Читать книгу Claiming His Runaway Bride / High-Stakes Passion - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 15

The next morning Belinda awoke feeling more rested than she had in ages. But with the fresh light of the morning, and the cool empty sheets beside her, anxiety had reasserted itself once more.

Where had the trepidation she’d felt when she’d first seen him at the hospital gone? She’d been forced into close contact with him yesterday—a close contact she hadn’t questioned and which, to be totally honest, had felt right. Was this how victims of Stockholm Syndrome felt? Had that been Luc’s intention all along—to make her completely reliant on him so far away from what little familiarity she had?

Aside from the obvious, the fact she couldn’t remember what was a very important part of her life, why did she still feel as though there was something more overshadowing her mind’s refusal to recall her memories. Even now, as she approached Luc at the dining table, where he sat reading a paper over breakfast, she sensed a closed door deep inside of him, a part of him that lay deep in shadow, and she wanted to know what was behind that door.

The only way she would find out was to keep going. He was her husband. She owed it to them both. Belinda painted a smile on her face and forced herself not to smooth the short-sleeved top she’d pulled on over designer jeans one more time as Luc looked up.

“Good morning,” Luc said, folding his paper neatly and putting it to one side. “You slept well?”

“Very well.” A faint rush of heat bloomed across her cheeks as she recalled how his enveloping arms had held her against him, how her body had reacted to his touch.

“Good.” Luc gave a nod of satisfaction. “Since we’re technically working from tomorrow, I’ve planned some fun for us today.”

“Fun? That sounds intriguing. What have you got in mind?”

Belinda reached for the coffee carafe and poured Luc another cup. She was halfway through pouring when her hand suddenly shook.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted another.” She stopped pouring and rested the carafe on a place mat on the table.

Luc gave her a searching look. “I always have two cups at breakfast.”

The ramifications of Luc’s reply echoed through her mind. She instinctively remembered that, but she didn’t remember him? How labyrinthine could the mind get? Her neurologist had spoken to her at length about the voids in her memory and how simple everyday matters could appear, as this one had this morning. Being here—being with Luc—obviously stimulated the part of her mind that held her memory captive.

Luc placed his hand over hers, where it rested on the handle of the carafe. She fought not to flinch from his touch, from the spark of physical recognition that relentlessly spiralled through her every time he was near.

“You remembered that without trying. Don’t over analyse it. Just let it come.”

“How can I do that when I don’t know the difference between remembering and not?” Her voice shook slightly.

“We’ll find a balance. Don’t worry. Who knows what might happen today.”

He let go of her hand, took a swig of his coffee, then rose from the table.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d take a trip around parts of the estate today. Play hooky.” He gave her a smile. “Are you up for it?”

A sensation, not unlike fear, snaked along her spine. She couldn’t help but feel he had a hidden agenda to his suggestion.

“Just the two of us?” she asked.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me. Should it?” She forced her lips into a smile.

Luc’s eyes narrowed as her question hung on the air. “If you’d rather stay here at the lodge today, that’s okay.”

“No, no! Going out today would be fabulous.”

“Well, if it assuages your fears any, Manu will be driving us.” He rose to his feet and snatched his cane up from by the table.

“I could drive,” Belinda offered.

Luc halted midstride. His face paled measurably and he gave her a searching look that made her heart stutter in her chest. What had she said wrong?

“Or not.” She attempted to lighten the air that had suddenly frozen between them with glacial coolness.

“I think not. Not yet, anyway.” Luc appeared to have recovered his equilibrium and his skin recovered its usual hue. “How soon can you be ready?”

Belinda flicked a glance at the clock above the kitchen stove. “Give me ten minutes, then I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” Luc’s voice deepened and Belinda was suddenly swept with an uneasy sense of déjà vu.

She put out a hand and grasped a chair back to steady herself. Tiny black dots danced before her eyes. She forced herself to breathe, drawing air into her lungs and expelling it again with careful deliberation. She felt Luc’s hand at her back—a reassurance that lent her much-needed strength.

“You okay?” His breath stirred the hair at her nape.

“Yeah,” she said on shaky breath. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go and get ready.”

“Make sure you grab a jacket in case it gets cool later, and wear comfortable walking shoes, okay?”

“We’ll be out all day?”

“If you’re up for it.”

She let go of the chair and stepped out of his reach. “I’m up for it.”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

By the time she’d splashed her face and reapplied her makeup, she was heading closer to fifteen minutes than the ten she’d promised, but as she joined Luc at the front door she had at least regained most of her equilibrium. It niggled at her that he hadn’t been keen for her to drive. She’d held her licence since her late teens and had always been a good driver, but he’d looked sick to his stomach at the prospect.

Ah, well, she sighed, at least this way she’d get to enjoy the countryside a bit more than if she had to concentrate on the roads.

She was surprised when Luc sat in the back beside her as they headed off, and said as much. Luc responded by linking his fingers through hers and answering, “I’ve been forced to be apart from you for too long already. Why wouldn’t I want to be by my wife’s side?”

There was an intensity to his words that both soothed and unnerved her. She gave herself an internal shake. What was wrong with her? Everything she felt at the moment was a contradiction to what she’d felt only a moment ago. And underlying it all was the insidious awareness that something wasn’t right, that somehow she was living the wrong life. Maybe she should have let Luc call the doctor yesterday. This weird sense of displacement, the inherent sense of wrongness couldn’t be normal.

Luc dragged her attention to the land that spread out before them and described the extent of the estate’s farming and forestry operations, as they followed the road down the side of the hill, going deeper into the valley with every kilometre. As far as she could see in any direction the land was entailed in Tautara Estate. She started to get a new appreciation of how vast her husband’s business interest here was and how many staff he employed.

“And Luc is being modest,” Manu interrupted as he negotiated a hairpin bend in the road. “We offer some of the best fishing and hunting grounds in the whole of New Zealand, and for the adventurous they can go rafting, too.”

“Sounds like you offer it all,” Belinda commented.

“Yeah, well, we aim to please, don’t we, mate?” Manu’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkled with the smile that wreathed his face.

“We do at that,” Luc answered enigmatically, and gave Belinda’s hand a gentle squeeze.

After just over an hour they reached a clearing and Manu pulled the four-wheel-drive vehicle in and parked, leaping down to open Belinda’s door for her before she could alight.

“Here you are. I’ll head on as we discussed this morning, okay?”

“Thanks, Manu,” Luc answered.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” There was a note of concern in the other man’s voice that alerted Belinda he was not entirely happy to be leaving them here.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Besides, I’ve got this and I’ve got the two-way.” Luc lifted his cane slightly with one hand and patted the small radio clipped to his belt with the other. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Make sure he does.” Manu turned to Belinda, the serious light in his eyes telling her unreservedly that he wasn’t kidding. “I mean it, if he looks like he’s in any pain at all, call me.”

“Stop fussing, Manu.” Irritation laced Luc’s words with acerbity.

“You call being sensible, fussing? Her with her blackout yesterday, you with your hip, both of you just out of hospital and now me leaving you both in the wilderness. I need my head read is what.”

Though he tried to inject some humour into his voice Belinda could see he was genuinely worried. She put her hand out to him, gripping his forearm and meeting his worried gaze full-on.

“I will look after him, don’t worry. And if I feel like I can’t manage, either him or myself, Luc will call you. Okay?”

“S’pose it’ll have to be. Right, then, catch you later.”

Still muttering, Manu climbed back into the four-by-four and wheeled back out onto the private road, heading off in the same direction they’d been travelling.

“He has a point.” Belinda turned to Luc. “We pretty much are the walking wounded.”

“Are you worried?” He gave her a searching look.

“No, not at all. In fact it’s great to be out in the fresh air. Away from walls.”

“I know what you mean. If you want to head back at any stage just tell me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said with emphasis on the “I,” and left unsaid the query as to whether he could manage. It was clear his strength was an issue of pride; she didn’t want to aggravate him with her concern any more than Manu already had.

“We’ll both be fine. The walk is level and there are plenty of rest stops on the way. C’mon.”

Luc took her by the hand and led her along a welltrodden trail that wound alongside a bubbling river. All around them the sounds of bird life and the ever-present hum of cicadas filled the air. The air was warm and a soft breeze played in the trees. She was glad they’d left their jackets in the car. Despite her earlier fears, Belinda felt herself begin to relax. They took their time, and Luc paused every fifteen minutes or so to point out items of interest—a particular indigenous plant he knew she’d delight in, or the movement of fish in the water.

At one point Luc pulled her down to sit with him on a large fallen tree.

“Let’s rest awhile,” Luc said, rubbing absently at his hip as he propped his cane beside him.

“Is your leg bothering you?” Belinda wondered just how much pain he was in.

“A little,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine after a bit of a rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Besides, it never hurts to stop and just enjoy the scenery from time to time.”

Belinda’s cheeks flushed under the heat in his gaze. Judging by his intensely focused look, he wasn’t talking about the riverbank or its surroundings. Luc lifted a hand to smooth her hair away from her face, and his fingers slid along her scalp to cup the back of her head.

“Tell me you don’t want me to do this.”

His face drew closer, his lips parted ever so slightly. The air around them thickened. Sound retreated. The distance between them closed. Even if she’d been capable of denying him she very much doubted she would.

Without conscious thought she closed the distance between them. His lips were firm and dry as they captured hers, and her senses leaped to sudden and demanding life. When Luc’s fingers tightened on the back of her head, she sank into him, her arms snaking around his waist, her breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest.

Whatever uncertainties plagued her she couldn’t deny the absolute synchronicity of their physical sense of belonging. Belinda gave herself over to sensation as Luc deepened their kiss. A flame of want kindled deep inside her, pressing her closer against him, welcoming his touch and taste with a sense of homecoming that was as fundamental in its origin as the rising sun each morning.

When Luc pulled away, his breathing was rapid and his eyes shone with the burning clarity of desire. She should feel intimidated by that look, Belinda told herself. She should be telling him “no more.” Instead, her body clamored for his touch, her lips ached for more of the fierce pressure of his lips. She was surprised when he pushed up to his feet and stood, with his hands planted on his hips, and looked out over the river, away from her.

When he turned he was back under control. The light in his eyes had dulled, his breathing returned to normal.

“Shall we go on?”

Confused, Belinda stood and brushed the remnants of bark from the seat of her jeans before answering. “Sure. Let’s go.” What had made him pull back like that? She could have sworn he was as lost in their kiss as she’d been.

Again Luc took her hand, and as they continued on the path, she noticed he leaned more heavily on the cane than he had before.

“Is it much further?” she asked.

“Just around the next bend in the river,” Luc replied, his words clipped.

Belinda stopped in her tracks. “What is it? Why are you angry?” She was talking to his back as he doggedly kept walking.

“It’s nothing. Let’s carry on.”

“Is it your leg? Because I don’t mind resting a bit longer before we carry on. It’s been a long time since I’ve exerted myself this much, and I could do with the rest.”

He stopped and turned to face her, his expression raw with something she couldn’t quite define.

“No, it’s not my leg.”

“Then what is it? Was it the kiss? Did you want me to say no?”

“It wasn’t that. It’s nothing you can do anything about in your current state. Just leave it.” He turned back and started walking again.

Belinda huffed in exasperation. He’d closed up as effectively as a bank vault under siege. There was nothing else for it but to follow him, but instead she stayed right where she was, chewing over his words as she did so. “In her current state.” What the heck had he meant by that? Obviously her amnesia was as frustrating to him as to her, but he had the advantage of remembering their life together—of remembering their love.

For her the only thing she knew was that she desired him, and that was terrifying enough. She’d never been the type to embark on a frivolous relationship, and took the physical side of a relationship very seriously.

If she listened to her body, they would already be lovers again—even though he was a stranger to her. It went against everything she believed in, but she couldn’t deny the truth—not when her blood raced hot and demanding through her body and her core ached with an emptiness she knew only he could fill.

Her cheeks coloured as she remembered again his rejection of her last night. She kicked a stone off the path and watched it tumble down the bank and into the river and sighed helplessly.

“I’m sorry.”

Luc’s voice from close behind her made her jump and turn. He placed his forefinger on her lips, preventing her from speaking.

“Yes, I am sore. Yes, it was that kiss. And yes, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted you before. But I know what our marriage meant to you. I want that back. I want it all back before I make love with you again. That’s why I’m in a foul mood.”

Belinda’s anger melted in the face of his honesty. It was clear how much it had cost him to bare his emotions like that. Sharp lines bracketed his mouth, his eyebrows were drawn in a harsh straight line, his fist clenched on the top of his cane.

“I’m sorry, too. I forget that I’m not the only one who’s lost something here,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.

She slipped an arm around his waist and together they strolled in silence along the path. As they came into another clearing Belinda gasped in surprise. Ahead of them a green-and-white-striped canvas canopy had been erected over a wooden table and two matching chairs. An ice bucket, with a bottle of champagne cooling within it, sat in the centre and was surrounded by a series of covered dishes. A long-stemmed rosebud, this time an intense coral colour, stood in a bud vase next to the ice bucket. Beside the table a sumptuous collection of pillows and fine cotton throws adorned the grass.

“You planned this all along?”

“You like it?”

“I love it. It seems so…decadent.”

“It’s what we specialise in. Decadence. Privacy.”

Luc watched Belinda carefully. Walking away from her earlier, knowing exactly what awaited them around the corner, had been one of the hardest things he’d had to do since he’d collected her from the hospital yesterday. While he’d recuperated in hospital, he’d thought waiting patiently for her memories to return would be easy, but he was not in the mood to be patient anymore. With luck, this planned seduction, the mirror of their first time together, would be the trigger that would restore his life to the way it should have been all along. Perhaps, he dared hope, even better than before.