Conquering Sabrina (8 page)

“I think you should wait until we see Dr Martine.”

“No. It’s the music. That’s what helped me remember. It was playing when the guests were arriving. Please, you have to help me.”

He gave her one of his famous stern looks and then smiled as he moved away from her to retrieve something from a concealed closet.

He sat on the floor crossing his long legs in front of him whilst he played with the combination on a safe. The towel tied precariously around his waist opened, threatening to expose more than she was ready for at that moment. She looked at him wistfully. Could this hunky, sexy man really belong to her? Maybe he didn’t; maybe it was all a dream and she was about to get a nasty wakeup call any minute. Maybe she did share him with that woman she saw in her memory. She felt her teeth close together and grit at the mere thought. But if he was by some miracle only hers, what could he possibly see in her? She was small and curved, not like all those super slim elegant French women. And he looked as though he should be kept on a leash; he was too sexy, too lethal for any woman’s good sense to be let out on his own. He must have had an affair, she decided. She turned back to the mirror, disappointment shining in eyes that blinked the colour of sapphires.

“You were wearing this, the night you disappeared. I found it on the floor of your study. I had it repaired for you coming home.”

He was standing behind her draping a necklace around her neck. It was made of beautiful droplet rubies surrounded by cut diamonds.

“Raoul, is this real?” she asked, taking a breath.

He looked affronted. He cupped her shoulders and stared at her in the mirror, surrounding her with his intoxicating scent of masculinity she appeared to have no defence against.

“It’s beautiful, Raoul. I can’t believe you bought me such an extravagant gift.”

It was gorgeous. She shuddered to think how much it cost. Thousands wouldn’t have been close. She twisted and turned her neck, watching the diamonds and the gemstones catch in the light. She looked at herself in the mirror disbelieving what she was hearing and seeing. It was like waking up to find out you were a crown princess in a fairy tale. Raoul was fast mending those walls of her imaginary wedded bliss.

Maybe the idea was for her to remember all the good bits and discard the rest, such as his affair. Yes, maybe the necklace had been another bribe. Her thoughts trailed off as she watched a hand reach out and snatch the necklace from her throat. She cried out with pain, flinching away. She was in her study trying to back away. A man’s tuxedoed arm reached out and pulled her towards him. His other hand reached out and slapped her face, knocking her to the floor. Her head hit the wooden floor with a thud, leaving her dazed. She tried to get up, but the man held both her arms and was pushing her back down, straddling her body. No matter how hard she fought him, his strength was too much for her own. She’d never felt fear like it, a fear of being raped. As she felt the skirt of the velvet dress being lifted, the memory shut down flat, a sudden blank calmness seeping into her mind.

“Sabrina, Sabrina, are you all right?”

She looked up to find Raoul cradling her in his arms on the floor. She was shaking uncontrollably. She rested her head against his bare chest and held on to him for dear life.

“You were having a flashback. Who hurt you, Sabrina, who was it? I need to know.”

He stroked her hair, rocking her in his arms to soothe the emotion, holding her tight and close as she told him what she’d seen.

“You didn’t see who attacked you?”

She put her hand to the necklace that suddenly felt heavy around her neck, the image of it being torn from her throat echoing again and again in her mind. She pushed her body closer to Raoul, hiding her face against the smooth taut muscle, shaking her head. It took several minutes for her fear to subside. He held her whispering gentle words of reassurance in French. His soft musical tone soothed her raw nerves.

Her thoughts asked a million questions, about her attacker, about Raoul, about the house. Her conscience was warning her about being close to anyone. She could not see her attacker’s face, but she was aware that she knew the man very well. Isn’t that what they said? You often knew your rapist. But Raoul’s arms held her so tightly, so protectively, she wanted to melt against him. She could feel his strength against her hand as she pushed at his chest to compose herself.

“I’m not sure I want to see him.”

“No, I can understand that. But I, we, the police need to know who hurt you so we can stop him from doing it again. He’s still out there. I want you safe, Sabrina. God knows I don’t want you to hurt like this. If I could swap places, make it all go away, I would. But we can’t and we have to face it. I will be with you every step of the way.”

Raoul swept his hand softly through her hair, a hundred emotions swirling in his eyes. Love, anger, protection, frustration all fighting for supremacy.

“Dr Martine is coming in an hour. He might be able to help you enlarge that memory.”

“I’ll get ready.”

Raoul stopped her from moving. His hands didn’t want to relinquish their possession.

“I’ll stay with you.” It was a statement rather than a suggestion.

“No, I’m fine, really.”

“You are so tense again.”

Raoul gestured for her to turn around. She closed her eyes as he kneaded the painful knots in her shoulders. She tried to ignore her conscience that demanded that she move away, urging caution, but her physical self was firmly in control, rejoicing with each careful and sensual touch of her body.

The phone rang, jerking her eyes open. His hands ceased their pleasurable movement and rested flat against her skin, simply holding her body still to prevent any escape. He sighed, deliberating whether or not to answer the persistent ring.

“I suggest you answer that. It could be important,” she said with dismay, reluctant to allow him to stop.

Raoul glanced at the offending object with a frown and got up.

“Dr Martine is here.”

Chapter Seven

“You have amnesia, Madame Valoire,” the consultant told her with a smile that did not sit easily on his face.

“Please call me Sabrina.”

As if she didn’t already know that. And if anyone called her Madame Valoire once more, she was going to hit them. She wanted to keep her own name. She caught sight of Raoul’s mouth curving into the briefest of smiles. Every time he did that it was another sign, another confirmation she was indeed his Sabrina. It was more evidence of the identity she’d lost. It frightened her more than ever that she really didn’t know who she was and to some extent was living a lie. Even worse was the fact that Raoul and many others possessed the advantage of knowing more about herself than she did. She felt out of control, incredibly vulnerable, and totally dependent on Raoul to help her recover her lost life.

The consultant moved from his position next to the roaring fire and sat down. Sabrina glanced at Raoul. There was sympathy etched into his features and he covered her hand that gripped the arm of the brown leather chair. She could feel his strength and support seeping inside, warming her heart.

“You experienced a severe emotional trauma and your mind shut down, subconsciously burying emotional and physical pain. It is the mind’s way of protecting itself.”

“But why did I forget who I am?”

“In severe cases it happens. Your mind has made you believe that those events happened to someone else and has created a new identity for you to live in.”

He sighed and stood again to lean against the fireplace, running his hand through the bristly grey beard covering his chin.

“Patients with this condition may leave and relocate, function normally, but without knowing their past.”

“So what about recovery? How long will it take for Sabrina to regain her memory?” Raoul asked, the impatience and eagerness in his voice unmistakable.

“It can happen all of a sudden or may take a while. It depends on the individual or she may not remember everything.”

Sabrina watched a frown crease Raoul’s smooth brow as he considered the possibility of her never knowing him. But it readily disappeared to be replaced by avid determination. The grip on her hand tightened positively. She got the feeling it was not an outcome he was prepared to tolerate. She gave him a nervous look. He was never going to give up and deep inside she was relieved.

“But this type of dissociative amnesia is usually reversible. The best course of action, Madame, is to move back to your home and get back into a normal routine as soon as possible.”

“But my life. I have so much going on in it.”

Feelings of frustration consumed her. She couldn’t be expected to just dump the life she’d spent years building up to make her feel safe.

“I live in London now. I’m a doctor of history, a lecturer. I’m in the middle of writing my second book. I have a dog and a fish, for heaven’s sake.”

Raoul laughed. It was the wrong thing to do and his face turned serious when she glared at him. So he thought she would just give up her life and run back home. He had another think coming. There must be a good reason she chose to forget him. She quickly stood, yanking her hand from his hold and folded her arms across her chest, taking the floor as if holding a lecture.

“I won’t be dictated to like this. I don’t want to give up who I am. I like who I am. What was I before? Your little woman who sat around looking pretty, letting you dictate and control her life?”

Raoul stood up quicker than she had done herself, a dark cloud of anger covering his face. She found herself taking two steps backward, feeling the fire from the fireplace right behind her legs.

“You are not a decorative part of our marriage.”

He took hold of her arms and pulled her towards him. His voice was angry but level.

“The Sabrina I knew and loved was an independent courageous woman. But she was also incredibly vulnerable and she needed me to look after her. There is no shame in that. She needed me as much as I needed her. It’s this vulnerability you are afraid of knowing again. You are frightened of being hurt. I won’t hurt you, Sabrina, and I will not allow anyone else to either. If you don’t try to recover the old Sabrina, you and I will always be incomplete.”

She stared at him hard, feeling her chest rising and falling with each agitated breath. There was no reply, he was right and she had to face it. She was frightened. Her new identity protected and shielded her insecurity. Sabrina pulled away, unable to find any words and quickly left the room.

* * *

She didn’t notice exactly when he entered their bedroom, but her small suitcase was nearly packed.

“What are you doing, Sabrina?” he asked, his reprimand cutting across the air like the crack of a whip.

“What do you think, genius? I’m packing. and don’t you dare try throwing me over your knee again. I will not be deterred, no matter what you do to me,” she challenged.

She picked up her army of creams and indulgent skin luxuries and tipped them into her vanity case. When she turned back with underwear from the drawer, he had removed the bottles and put them back on the dressing table, and was beginning to unpack her suitcase. She looked at him as though he had committed the crime of the century. Yet she offered no protest when he took the rest of the clothes from her hands and laid them on a chair. He took her hands in his and sat her down on the bed beside him, smoothing the gentle flicks of hair on her face as he talked.

“Sabrina, you do not have to be afraid. I am here for you. We are going to do this together.”

“You keep saying that, but I have to do this on my own. You are hell-bent on destroying who I’ve become to get back what you lost without even thinking about what I want.”

He eyed her with concern, reading the emotion in her eyes.

“I want both of you, the old and the new Sabrina. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

He cupped her chin and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Why are you so frightened of who you really are?” his voice lowered to a gentle caressing whisper.

She tried to lower her eyes, but his penetrating gaze was unavoidable.

“I don’t know. Yes, I suppose I am afraid of what I am finding out about myself. I am not sure I approve of what I have found out about my old life so far.”

“The old Sabrina isn’t the mild-mannered walk-over you take her for.” He gave Sabrina a gentle smile. “She is intelligent, very strong, and has a ferocious temper when riled. She has never been a walk-over in our marriage and I don’t want you to think of her like that. It’s unfair. You shouldn’t judge people you don’t know,” he laughed. She couldn’t help but smile with him. “But you like me to take the lead. Whether you approve of the old Sabrina or not, it is the way she wanted our relationship and it is the way you want it now. You have more than proved that to me.”

Sabrina blushed and lowered her eyes, feeling both pain and relief to acknowledge the truth he spoke. Raoul raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.

“God knows I don’t want you to relive the nightmare of being raped, but I need to know who hurt you and you need help. You have to confront what happened so you can move on. I will be with you every step of the way.”

Sabrina only noticed the force of her tears when they ran down her cheeks covering his fingers. Raoul reached up to wipe them away and then swept his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into the comforting shelter of his arms.

“I let you down, Sabrina. I wasn’t there to protect you. I won’t ever let anyone, any man hurt you like that again,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggled closer, the strong overwhelming emotion subsiding.

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect you, Sabrina, with or without your approval and I expect…”

She gave a small laugh through her tears.

“You expect me to do as I am told.”

“Yes, I expect your obedience. Remember your wedding vows, honour and obey.”

“I never vowed that,” she protested.

He grinned.