a second, alarm flashed in his eyes and his white-knuckled fingers gripped the back of the chair. But as quickly as it appeared, the expression went away.
He shrugged. “Not at all. You’ll be on your way soon enough.”
He was lying. She knew it with a certainty that filled her chest with indignation. Her presence in his house was a problem. A big one. She threw back the covers, panicked and agitated. “I’ll go.”
His frown blackened as he straightened the bedding. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in no shape to go anywhere tonight. Stay in my bed. But tomorrow, you’re history.”
The pain in her head bested her. That and a heart-pounding sense of foreboding. She clenched the edge of the sheet in her hands, fighting hysteria. “Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?” Now his expression was confused.
“Please tell me who I am.”
Two
Gareth narrowed his eyes, trying to disguise his shock. Here it was. The ploy. The act. Part one of whatever scam she was running. She couldn’t be for real… could she?
He kept his expression bland. “Amnesia? Really? We’re going to do the daytime soap opera thing?” He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll play along. I’m Gareth. Your name is Gracie Darlington. You’re from Savannah. Jacob and I checked your driver’s license.”
He watched her bottom lip quiver until she bit down on it… hard. She made an almost palpable effort to gather herself. A gifted actress could do as much. But the look of sheer terror in her painfully transparent gaze would be hard to manufacture. She sucked in a ragged breath. “How did I get here? Do I have a car outside?”
He shook his head. “As near as I can tell, you hiked up the mountain. Which is no small feat, by the way. There are no cleared trails at the bottom. Your arms and legs are all scratched.”
“Do I have a cell phone?”
He cocked his head, studying her face. “I’ll check.” The only item she’d had with her when she arrived was the pink carryall Jacob had examined earlier. Gareth rummaged in it without remorse and, in a zippered pocket, found a Droid phone. He turned it on and handed it to her, tossing the tote on the bed beside Gracie. Fortunately the battery seemed to be fully charged. Gracie pulled up the contact screen.
“Well, at least you remember how to do that.” His thick sarcasm made her wince, but she didn’t look at him. Instead she studied the list of names as if she were cramming for a test. Focused. Intent.
When she finally looked up, her beautiful eyes were shiny with tears. “None of these names mean a thing to me,” she whispered. One drop spilled over. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I remember?”
He took the phone from her, squashing a reluctant sympathy. Gareth Wolff was no pushover. Not anymore. “You whacked your head when you fell off my porch. Jacob’s a doctor. He says you’ll be fine.” But Jacob had left before the whole amnesia thing came to light. Damn it.
Gareth scrolled through the contact list himself, not sure what he was looking for. But then it hit him. There was an “I.C.E.” entry. In case of emergency. Edward Darlington… and the word Daddy.
He hit the call key and waited. A man on the other end answered. Gareth spoke calmly. “This is Gareth Wolff. Your daughter took a fall and has been injured. She’s been checked out by a doctor, and she’s going to be fine. But she’s suffering a temporary memory loss. It would be helpful if you could reassure her. I’ll put her on the line.”
Without waiting for an answer, Gareth handed the phone to Gracie.
She eased up into a half-sitting position, resting her back against the headboard. “Hello?”
Gareth sat down beside her, close enough to hear that the voice on the other end was amused. Close enough to catch snatches of conversation.
“Hot damn, my little Gracie. I didn’t think you had it in you. Faking an accident on Wolff property? Pretending to have amnesia? Good Lord, you’ve got him right where we want him. The whole family will be terrified we’ll sue. Phenomenal idea. Nothing like going after what you want whole hog. Brilliant, my girl. Sheer brilliance.”
Gracie interrupted the man’s euphoria. “Father… I don’t feel well at all. Can you please come pick me up and take me home?”
Darlington chortled. “He’s standing in the room with you, isn’t he? And you’ve got to play this out. Splendid. I’ll do my part. Sorry, Gracie. I’m headed for Europe in half an hour. Won’t be back for a week. And the house is a wreck. I told the contractor to go ahead with the remodel since we were both planning to be out of town. You’d have to stay in a hotel if you came back.”
“This isn’t funny,” she muttered. “I’m serious. I can’t stay here. They don’t want me. I’m a stranger.”
“Dredge up their guilt,” he insisted. “They owe it to you to be hospitable. Flirt with Gareth a little. Play on his sympathies. Damsel in distress and all that. Get him to agree to our proposal. We’ll talk next week. I’ve gotta run.”
“No, wait,” she said desperately. “At least tell me if I have a husband or a boyfriend. Anyone who’s missing me.”
Her father’s cackle of a laugh was so loud she had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Of course not. Lay it on thick. I’m loving this. Wish I could see his face. So long now.”
The line went dead. Gracie stared down at the phone, her composure in shreds. What kind of father did she have? Who could be so callous? So blasé about her injuries? Embarrassment and humiliation washed over her in waves, adding to her feeling of abandonment.
She laid the phone aside and managed a weak grimace. “How much of that did you hear?”
Gareth stood up and crossed to the window, his back to her. “Enough,” he said, disgusted with himself and with her. If he had any sense, he would boot her off the property ASAP.
Gracie’s voice wobbled. “He can’t come pick me up right now, because he’s on his way out of the country for a week. But if you’ll make travel arrangements for me, I’m sure he’ll reimburse you.”
Gareth Wolff turned to stare at her with a mixture of suspicion and pity. “He thinks you’re faking amnesia.”
Her cheeks flamed. “The whole conversation was confusing. I came to see you for a reason. But I don’t know what that is. Though he seems to.”
“And you really don’t have a clue?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave as soon as I can.”
“You’re not going anywhere at the moment.” Gareth’s jaw was clenched. “If you really do have memory loss, then I have to let Jacob know. The Wolff family doesn’t make a habit of throwing the injured out on the street. And believe me, Gracie, we’re not going to give you or your unbelievably unconcerned father any ammunition for a lawsuit.”
“We’re not going to sue you,” she said quietly. Depression depleted her last reserve of spunk. “I don’t
