Deceived 6 - Ultimate Deception (4 page)

Chapter 4

Chloe

Once my doctor spoke with Nina’s personal physician, he told me the two things I needed to do before I could leave the hospital. Unfortunately, one was eating something solid which meant that my celebration dinner consisted of an afternoon meal of rubbery hospital chicken, but it got me out of there, so I wasn’t going to complain. The second was I’d been given strict instructions not to walk any further than it took to stand up and move from a wheelchair to either the toilet or the bed. I didn’t even get to take showers. Sponge baths only until after Victoria made her appearance. While that sounded sexy in theory, I wasn’t looking forward to it. I hated feeling helpless.

Still, as the car pulled up to Nina’s fabulous mansion, I knew I’d rather endure months of bed-rest here with Patrick than spend another day at the hospital. At least I knew it wouldn’t be months, I reminded myself as I waited for Patrick to bring the wheelchair around to my door. Victoria was due next Saturday. Ten days. Since I was on bed-rest to prevent early labor, I doubted I’d be going past the due date. I was already making the schedule in my head.

If I went into labor on Saturday, even if I didn’t have Victoria until Sunday, the doctor wouldn’t keep us more than twenty-four hours unless there were complications. I wasn’t even going to consider that. I’d have to check with him about when I could fly, but if it was longer than a couple days, I was going to convince Patrick that we should drive home. Tears burned against my eyelids as I thought of our apartment. I’d been thinking of it a lot while confined to bed rest, and all the love that had gone into getting it ready to welcome our daughter home. I really didn’t want the first room my baby slept in outside the hospital to be a stranger’s. Nina was a good friend but it wasn’t the same.

“You okay?” Patrick asked as he helped me into the chair. “Are you in pain?”

“Yes, all the time.” I tried to make a joke to ward off the tears as I settled into the wheelchair. “Just missing home.”

He put his hand on my cheek and I leaned into his touch. His lips brushed against my forehead. “I miss the apartment, too, but you are my home.”

I didn’t try to explain it to him. In a way, I felt the same, but the nesting instinct that had prompted all of my decorating over the past few months now made me long for my bed, my blankets and my sheets.

As Patrick pushed me up the walkway to the front door, I blinked back the tears and focused on Nina’s...well, her mansion. I couldn’t exactly call it a house, not at that size. I didn’t remember seeing it before, but I was sure I’d been just as impressed then as I was now. I openly stared as we reached the door, partially because I was searching for something, anything, that would prompt a memory, but a good portion of it was because I was completely awestruck. Patrick and I were well-off and our apartment in the city was more than I’d ever dreamed I’d be able to afford, but this wasn’t even just wealthy. This was rich. Like never-having-to-work rich. I had to admit, that made me admire Nina a little more just because she wasn’t just sitting back and living off what she had, passing off the business dealings to employees. She actually got in there and did the work.

I stared up at the marble columns. The ones outside had been grand enough. The ones in the foyer were just...I couldn’t think of a word to describe them. “This place is amazing, Nina.”

I heard Patrick and Nina both laugh.

“What?” I looked at them, not getting the joke.

“That’s the same thing you said when you saw it the first time,” Patrick said.

“This is the first time,” I retorted. I smiled at him. “Besides, I think it’d still be impressive, no matter how many times I saw it.”

His eyes moved away from mine to watch where we were going and I watched as the humor faded from his face. I followed his gaze and saw what he was staring at. The staircase was massive and just as beautiful as everything else, but I folded my arms across my stomach in a protective gesture. I shivered, waiting for the memory of falling to come back to me.

Patrick stopped and leaned over me, his hands rubbing up and down my arms. “Are you remembering?”

I shook my head. “No, but just knowing what happened here...what could have happened...” I let my voice trail off, knowing I didn’t need to explain any more. Patrick’s hands stopped where my arms were on my stomach and I could feel the tension radiating off of him. He hadn’t said anything else since yesterday about how close he’d come to losing me and Victoria, but I knew it was still there, just under the surface. I could see it sometimes when he didn’t know I was watching him.

“This way,” Nina’s soft voice interrupted the moment.

Patrick began to push me again and we moved towards the far side of the foyer. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t supposed to be up and walking around, I thought, as we passed various doorways that appeared to lead to different parts of the vast building. We were moving slow enough for me to catch glimpses of the other rooms as well as admire the sculptures and artwork that filled the foyer. I knew Patrick was hoping that something would trigger a memory, but there was nothing. I tried not to let it bother me, reminding myself that maybe it was better that I didn’t remember what had happened, but I knew that a part of me wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d gotten my memory back.

As we moved past a large portrait in an ornate golden frame, I reached back and squeezed Patrick’s hand. He stopped.

“Chloe?”

I didn’t say anything, staring at the painting, something nagging at the back of my mind, like this was part of some puzzle I had to solve. It was of three girls, sisters that I recognized as the Brontes. I’d never been particularly fond of them as writers, so I couldn’t say why I’d felt compelled to stop here, but I kept looking, my eyes moving over the broad artist’s strokes like it held some sort of answer.

“What is it?” Nina asked.

“Did I see this before?” I gestured to the painting without looking away.

“I’m not sure,” Nina said.

“I don’t think so,” Patrick answered. “We weren’t really in this part of the house.”

“Hm.” I leaned back in the chair again, frowning.

“Did you remember something?” he asked.

“No, but there’s something...” I absently rubbed my hands over my belly. “Something about it makes me think...” My voice trailed off and no one said anything, letting me have the silence to try to figure things out. I rubbed my temples with my fingertips, closing my eyes as if that would help.

Was it something about writing? About their books? Had I done something stupid like tripped over a book? As weird as that sounded, at the moment, I wasn’t about to rule anything out. Maybe it had to do with sisters. I didn’t have any, but Elyse and I were almost that close, and I was starting to think of Nina that way. Was that why I was fixated on it? I knew that Elyse had been at the party even though I hadn’t talked to her since I’d woken up. Had she and Nina been with me when it had happened? Nina hadn’t said anything, but maybe that was because she felt guilty since it had happened in her house. I’d ask Elyse when I talked to her tomorrow.

“Babe.” Patrick’s gentle voice cut through my thoughts. “We need to get you into bed.”

I nodded and opened my eyes, sighing in frustration. “It’s like there’s something there but I just can’t touch it, you know?”

“Don’t stress yourself over it,” Patrick reminded me.

I didn’t respond. I knew I couldn’t put too much pressure on myself, but knowing it and doing it were two different things. I kept my eyes on my hands as we turned down a short hallway at the back of the house. I didn’t want anything to distract me from remembering the details of the painting. Once I was sure I hadn’t missed anything, I’d put aside the thought and let it simmer. Sometimes, when I was trying to remember something, it didn’t come to me until I stopped thinking about it. I just hoped that’d work here, too.

I looked up when we entered the guest room that Patrick and I would be calling home for the next several days. It was bigger than our bedroom in our penthouse – and that was saying something – but it was clearly a guest room. The paintings on the wall were beautiful but generic. There was a dresser and a matching set of tables on either side of a large, king-sized bed. All of them were expensive-looking and the entire room spoke of someone with impeccable taste. But the colors were soft, neutral beiges and mild darker browns, clearly chosen to show no preference for one particular color scheme over another.

“It’s lovely, Nina.” I forced a smile even as a wave of homesickness washed over me. “Thank you.”

“Your bathroom’s through there.” She pointed at the door across from where we were standing. Well, where they were standing and I was sitting. “I’ll leave you two to get settled in. If you get hungry, the kitchen’s across the foyer and two doors up. Help yourselves. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Patrick said as she left. He looked down at me. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

“You should eat something,” I protested.

“I’m not hungry.” He pushed me around to the side of the bed that was closer to the bathroom and then went back to our luggage. He opened up my suitcase and started sifting through the clothes. He frowned. “I’m going to have to go shopping. We didn’t bring much.”

“You’re going to buy me clothes?” I asked, letting my skepticism take on a teasing note.

He grinned at me as he pulled out my favorite nightgown. “What, you don’t think I can buy clothes for my wife?”

“I think you’ll end up getting yourself in trouble if you try,” I countered. “I love you, but you should never be allowed to purchase women’s clothing without a chaperone.”

“I’ll ask Nina to help, how about that?”

I nodded my approval and held out my arms for him to help me up. My legs were shaky as I stood. I hadn’t been up much at all and my muscles were still adjusting. He held me steady as I slowly undressed myself. I knew if I’d let him, Patrick would’ve done it all for me, but I was determined to have as much independence as I could. The very least I could do was change my own clothes.

I let the maternity dress I’d worn out of the hospital drop to the floor. I’d assumed that had been what I’d intended to wear on the plane ride home, or I’d worn it down and Patrick had washed it. It was more about comfort than style, though it was still nicer than a lot of the maternity clothes I’d seen before Nina had come along. I debated whether or not to take off my bra as I looked down at my stomach. I’d been expecting to see bruises when I’d first seen myself naked, but there had been surprisingly few. The doctor’d said it had been because of the angles I’d hit and now that I’d actually seen the stairs, it was a good thing they had thick carpet on them. Too bad it ended at the last step where it met the marble flooring. I’d just taken it as another miracle and didn’t try to understand it.

Patrick reached out and placed his hand on my bare stomach. My heart gave a wild thump as heat spread out from where his palm touched me. I looked up at him, but he was staring at my belly. The complete adoration I saw on his face sent a flare of desire through me. It amazed me how much my love for this man continued to grow.

He raised his head so that our eyes met and I saw my desire mirrored there. The fact that he wanted me like this, just days short of my due date and not having had a proper shower in too long, made me want him even more. We both knew it wasn’t going to happen, not right now. Still, we basked in the moment, each of us knowing that the lack of sex had nothing to do with a lack of interest.

Without taking my eyes from his, I reached behind me and unsnapped my bra. I hated sleeping in it anyway. Patrick’s longing gaze flicked down and he groaned.

“Babe, you’re killing me.” He handed me my nightgown.

I smiled. “Just giving you something to think about so you don’t go running off to the thin, gorgeous woman upstairs.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get dressed before I’m tempted to disobey doctor’s orders.”

I obediently pulled my nightgown over my head. I knew he’d never do anything to endanger our daughter, or me, but it was nice to know how hard it was for him to keep his hands off me. I sat on the edge of the bed and brushed out my hair while Patrick got undressed. I let myself enjoy the view as he stripped down to his form-fitting boxers. There were men who were more muscular, ones who were taller, but I’d never wanted anyone other than him. I braided my hair, grimacing at the feel of it. Figuring out a way to thoroughly wash it was going to the top of my list of things to do tomorrow.

I pushed myself back on the bed, feeling a pinch in my side. I groaned from the dull ache that had erupted in the last few days. It felt like the baby had been kicking the same spot right up under my ribs. It was no wonder. Despite the fact that my stomach was huge, I imagined that the space inside was still cramped for the baby. I sighed as I settled against the massive collection of pillows. Who would have thought that lying in bed all day, waiting for a baby, would be so tiring?

Patrick walked around to the other side of the bed but didn’t climb in. He looked at me, concern on his face. “Maybe I should sleep on the floor.”

“What?” I stared at him in disbelief. One of the reasons I wanted to get out of that hospital bed, aside from my dislike of hospitals in general, was that I missed having Patrick lying next to me. It had been four nights without the comfort of feeling his arms around me, snuggled together in bed.

“What if I roll over in the middle of the night and I hurt you?” His hand fisted in the bedspread. “I don’t want to take that risk.”

I held out my hand. “Come to bed, love. Please. I can’t sleep without you next to me.”

I could see the decision warring on his face. After a moment, he climbed in, putting himself at the furthest edge he could manage. I rolled my eyes and laughed at my silly husband.

“Babe,” I said. “I’m not made of glass. You can touch me.” I let my voice drop. “I want you to touch me.”

He rolled over on his side so he was facing me, raising an eyebrow. “That’s just evil.”