The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress (The Anetakis Tycoons #1)(10)

Four

T he next morning, Marley sat across from Chrysander as he watched her eat breakfast. He nodded approvingly when she managed to finish the omelet he’d prepared, and he urged her to drink the glass of juice in front of her.

Despite her anxiety and uncertainty, it felt good to be taken care of by this man. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure of her place in his world. He was solicitous of her, but at the same time he seemed distant. She wasn’t sure if it was out of deference to her memory loss, and he had no wish to frighten her, or if this was simply the normal course of their relationship.She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled absently. The idea that this could be ordinary bothered her. Surely she hadn’t desired marriage with someone who treated her so politely, as though she were a stranger.

And yet, for all intents and purposes, they were strangers. At least he was to her. A flood of sympathy rolled through her. How awful it had to be for him to have his fiancée, a woman he loved and planned to marry, just forget him, as though he never existed. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes.

He’d watched her closely through breakfast, and she knew she must be broadcasting her unease, but he said nothing until he’d cleared their dishes away and taken her into the living room. He settled her on the couch and then sat next to her, his stare probing.

“What is concerning you this morning, Marley?” Chrysander asked.

His gaze passed over her face, and his expression left her faintly breathless.

“I was just thinking how perfectly rotten this whole thing must be for you.”

One eyebrow rose, and he tilted his head questioningly. He looked surprised, as though it were the last thing he’d expected her to say.

“What do you mean?”

She looked down, suddenly shy and even more uncertain. He reached over and touched his fingers to her chin. He slid them further underneath and tugged until she met his gaze.

“Tell me why things are so horrible for me.”

When put like that, it sounded ridiculous. Here was a man who could have, and probably did have, anything he wanted. Power, wealth, respect. And yet she presumed to think it was so terrible that his mousy fiancée couldn’t remember him. It would have been enough to make her laugh if she hadn’t felt so forlorn.

“I was trying to imagine myself in your place,” she said sadly. “What it feels like when someone you love forgets you.” His thumb rubbed over her lips, and a peculiar tingling raced down her spine. “I think I would feel…rejected.”

“You’re worried that I feel rejected?” Faint amusement flickered in his eyes, and a smile hovered near the corners of his mouth.

“You don’t?” she asked. And did it matter? She hated this lack of confidence. Not only was her memory of this man stolen, but any faith she had in who she was to him had been erased, as well. She hated the idea that she couldn’t speak of their relationship frankly because she worried that she might make errant assumptions and look a fool.

Embarrassment crept over her cheeks, leaving them tight and heated as he continued to stare at her.

“You cannot help what happened to you, Marley. I don’t blame you, and neither do I harbor resentment. It would be petty of me.”

No, she couldn’t see him as petty. Dangerous. A little frightening. But not petty. Was she afraid of him? She shivered lightly. No, it wasn’t him she was afraid of. It was the idea that she could have been so intimate with a man such as him and not remember it. She couldn’t imagine ever forgetting such an experience.

“What happened to me, Chrysander?” A note of pleading crept into her voice. Her hands shook, and she clenched them together to disguise her unease.

He sighed. “You had…an accident, pedhaki mou. The doctor assures me your memory loss is only temporary and that it’s imperative for you not to overtax yourself.”

“Was I in a car accident?” Even as she asked, she glanced down, searching for signs of injury, bruising. But she had no muscle soreness, no stiffness. Just an overwhelming fatigue and a wariness she couldn’t explain.

His eyes flickered away for the briefest of moments. “Yes.”

“Oh. Was it very serious?” She raised a hand to her head, feeling for a wound.

He gently took her hand and lowered it to her lap, but he didn’t relinquish his hold. “No. Not serious.”

“Then why…how did I lose my memory? Did I suffer a concussion? My head doesn’t hurt that way.”

“I’m very glad your head doesn’t pain you, but a head injury isn’t what causes memory loss.”

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him in puzzlement. “Then how?”

“The physician explained that this is your way of coping with the trauma of your accident. It’s a protective instinct. One meant to shield you from harmful memories.”

Her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows came together. She pressed, trying to struggle through the thick cloak of black in her mind. Surely there had to be something, some spark of a memory.

“Yet I wasn’t harmed,” she said in disbelief.

“A fact I’m very grateful for,” Chrysander said. “Still, it must have been very frightening.”

A sudden thought came to her, and her hand flew from his in alarm. “Was anyone else hurt?”