She gasped aloud at the size and beauty of the stone.
“Did…did I choose this?”
Luc’s dark brows pulled together, making him appear even more formidable than before. “You don’t remember this, either? For a moment I thought you did.”
Somehow he’d sensed her flash of memory when he’d put on her wedding band. The implication of how well he understood her was unnerving, more unnerving perhaps than even the knowledge that she couldn’t remember a single thing about him.
“No,” she replied on a whisper. “I remember nothing.”
“I commissioned the ring for you the day I met you.”
“The day we met? But how…?” Belinda looked up at him in surprise.
Luc’s gaze held hers. “I knew from that day you would be my wife.”
Her laugh sounded forced, even to her ears. “And did I have any say in the matter?”
“Belinda.” He pronounced each syllable of her name with care, making it sound like a caress. “You loved me before. You will love me again.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. His lips were surprisingly cool and an unexpected quiver of longing spread through her. What would it feel like if he kissed her? Would that unlock their past, the memories entrapped within her mind?
Luc drew her to his side, the imprint of his body heat seeped through her light clothing and deeper, to her skin. She pulled away, just enough to break the unnerving contact that had already sent her pulse into an erratic beat. His body felt unfamiliar, yet she was drawn to him at the same time. Surely if they had been married, been intimate together, she would have some physical memory imprinted in her psyche?
“The helicopter is waiting. We can’t obstruct the hospital helipad for any longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Helicopter? We aren’t driving? Just how far are we going?”
“Tautara Estate is southeast of Lake Taupo. Perhaps being back there will assist in triggering a memory for you.”
“Lake Taupo, but that’s almost a four-hour drive from here. What if…?” Her voice trailed away helplessly. What if, indeed? There’d be no one there to help her if the fears that plagued the edge of her consciousness became more than she could bear.
“What if…?” Luc prompted, his lips a thin implacable line across his face.
“Nothing.” Belinda dropped her head slightly, allowing the fullness of her hair to cover her face, to hide the sudden tears that stung her eyes. Everything inside her screamed that this was wrong, but she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why. The doctors had told her her memory should return in time, that she should stop trying to force things, but right now the black void in her mind threatened to overwhelm her.
“Then let’s go.”
Belinda walked two steps with Luc then halted, her sudden stop sending him slightly off balance. She noticed he used the cane to regain his stability. Was he fully recovered himself? She already sensed it was a question she couldn’t ask, sensed he was too proud to admit to physical failure or weakness. Pulling from Luc’s hold, she turned to her father, holding her arms out for a hug.
“I’ll see you later, then, Dad. You’ll give my love to Mum?” She searched his face once more for any inkling of why she felt as if she’d been shucked off like last year’s haute couture, but he refused to fully meet her gaze. Instead he wrapped her in his arms and held her as if he’d never let her go.
“Yes, I will. She wasn’t up to today’s visit but we will see you soon,” Baxter Wallace said, his voice thick.
“Baxter.” Luc’s voice cut through the air with the precision of fine steel, and her father’s arms dropped to his side.
“Go on, darling, everything will be all right. Just wait and see,” he urged.
“Of course everything will be all right. Why wouldn’t it be?” Luc tucked Belinda’s arm in the crook of his and guided her out the door.
Later, as the helicopter lifted from the pad, Belinda tried to remember why she’d been so excited when the doctor had told her she’d be discharged this afternoon. Now she felt anything but. She had nothing with her but the clothes on her back and the rings on her finger—rings that felt as foreign to her as the man who was her husband. She didn’t even have so much as a pair of sunglasses to ward off the sharp late-summer-afternoon light.
She cast a glance forward to her husband who sat next to the pilot in the cockpit. Her husband. No matter what they said, he was a stranger, and deep in her heart she knew he’d remain that way for a long, long time.
You loved me before. You will love me again.
His words echoed in her mind and as they did it occurred to her he’d said nothing of his feelings for her. Not one word of love had passed his lips from the moment she’d set eyes on him. The realisation sat like a cold ball of lead in the pit of stomach.
Relief poured through Luc’s aching bones as his Eurocopter Squirrel neared Tautara Estate—so named because of its position on the hilltop overlooking a small tributary river to New Zealand’s largest lake. He consciously fought to stop himself from rubbing his hip to ease the ache of sitting in the confines of the cockpit of the helicopter. He’d accepted he was unable, at this time anyway, to pilot the craft himself. His recovery from the broken hip and torn spleen had taken longer than expected when a bone infection had delayed his rehabilitation.
The knowledge that his wife lay only a couple of floors away from him, locked in a coma that had baffled her doctors, had done much to hasten his recuperation. Her emergence from the coma had come just as he commenced intensive physical therapy and had begun to welcome the challenge of restoring his body to its customary strength. He’d had no desire to appear as a cripple the first time she saw him after the accident. He’d pushed himself hard this past fortnight, but it had been worth it. He was nearly home.
With her.
The chopper followed the path of one of the lake’s tributaries, where he often hosted trout fishing expeditions for his celebrity guests, and Luc took comfort in the familiar landscape, the energy of the land below reaching out to him. Yes, he’d heal more quickly here, in charge of his own progress. In charge of his life. The way it should be.
He cast a look backward to where Belinda sat staring out the side window. A fierce wave of possession swept through him. She was his. Lost memory or not, things would return to the way they should have been all along—before the accident.
Her misty blue-grey eyes were serious as she gazed at her surroundings, her face pale, her hands curled into tight fists in her lap. She’d barely moved for the duration of the flight. Frozen in the past he supposed. She didn’t remember meeting him, their courtship or their wedding. She didn’t remember the crash. A part of him hoped she never would.
As the helicopter gained height, then circled over Tautara Estate, Luc allowed a smile of satisfaction to play across his lips. The estate was a monument to his success and power and was renowned worldwide amongst the wealthy, the famous—even royalty—for its facilities and attractions. And it was home in a way he’d never had a home before.
