In Love with a Stranger (4 page)

His eyes exploded wider, and he looked over at Camille, who took in her brother's shaking form.

"Are you alright?" Carter asked. "I'm sorry. I'm just very protective of her. She had a very difficult time when she woke up, literally with nothing and no one. She couldn't even remember why she’d been in New York. For all intents and purposes, I do consider her my sister. She has been for the past seven years."

"Seven years?" William choked out. "When…when did this happen?" he asked. The poor guy looked like he was about to faint, which was really odd.

I looked at him confused. "Seven years ago August, I found her in an alley late one morning, when I was out shopping. She woke up the following February."

CAMILLE

William sounded like he was choking for moment.

I was at his side. "Maybe we should go. I don't think he's feeling well," I said, as I wrapped my arm around my pale brother.

"It was nice to see you again. I'm sorry if you're not feeling well, William," Ophelia said politely then turned to me. "Are we still on for coffee tomorrow, Camille?"

"Yes, that’d be lovely," I said, passing William to Duncan, who led him toward the door.

Ophelia slipped one of Hannah's business cards to me. "Great, we're meeting at Hannah's shop at ten o'clock, then."

Duncan quickly helped William out of the house, and he commenced puking in the bushes the minute he cleared the porch.

"Is he going to be okay? Should we get him to a doctor?" Ophelia asked Duncan, and William shook his head no.

"Just…just take me back to the hotel," William croaked.

"Camille, let me know if you need to cancel, and I can get you the name of a doctor, too, if he needs one," Ophelia added.

"Thanks, Ophelia, I'll be in touch," I called over my shoulder, as I hurried toward the hired car.

Something strange was going on here, and I had a feeling my brother had some explaining to do.

Chapter 5 - Dirty Minds

HANNAH

I was standing at my stovetop, making Penelope's favorite dinner of macaroni and cheese, when I had a memory of my lover in the kitchen…a kitchen.

It was white with black accents. I was cooking some sort of sauce. It was nearly ready. I heard him come in. "Honey, I'm home," he teased.

"
Well, it's about time. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

His arm wrapped around my waist, and his other hand grabbed my butt. "Look at you being all domestic," he mumbled against my neck while kissing it. I was instantly covered in goose bumps. I didn't know why I’d even bothered cooking dinner. I should’ve waited. He was insatiable, and so was I. I sagged heavily into his chest. "I promise to thank you properly after dinner. For now, though, you'll just have to settle for me setting the table." I glanced back at him, admiring his backside, while he pulled the dishes from the cabinet. I wanted him.

Just like the other memories, his face still wasn't revealed, just another piece of his amazing body. I didn't know him, but I wanted him.

WILLIAM

I sat silent, thinking over everything I’d heard tonight. Hannah had been hurt. It was my fault she’d been out alone in New York in the first place. I’d told her never to go out on her own. The stubborn girl wouldn't listen. I should've taken her with me. I could've hidden the ring from her, even if she’d been there with me. I’d been so stupid to leave her behind. It would only have been another month until she had her passport. I should’ve waited until then.

Just the thought of her being injured made my stomach twist. She’d been badly hurt, enough so that it’d put her in a coma for six months!

Oh God, what if she’d been raped? Would they have told me if she had been? She’d been a virgin when we’d gotten together. I knew I’d been her first. Had I gotten her pregnant? Did she really not remember me? If not, why would she name her daughter Penelope? Was her daughter mine?

My chest ached. I hoped she was my daughter and that Hannah hadn’t been raped. I suddenly realized I might be a father.

I was sharing a two-room suite with Camille, and Duncan had a room across the hall. Duncan and Camille helped me to my room, and then Duncan left to go to his. Camille stood there looking at me.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" she asked.

My stinging eyes met hers, and I spoke in a soft whisper, since my throat was raw from vomiting.

"Do you remember when I lived in New York?" Camille tapped her chin, and I continued. "It was during your last year in school, I think."

"Yes, of course, that was the year you and dad got into a huge fight. What was that about?"

"Hannah."

She looked at me confused and shocked. "What?"

"I think it's her. I could be wrong. It's been so many years. It could be a different Hannah, they never did tell us her last name, but it’d all fit. It’d explain why she’d disappeared and never tried to find me. That year, after Christmas, dad said he was calling off the search for her, and he and I got into it.

“It’d been nearly six months, and there was no sign of her anywhere, no bank accounts, no credit cards, no rental agreements, nothing. It was as if she'd fallen off the face of the earth. When I contacted her father, he threatened to charge me with kidnapping and murder. It was why I’d had to move back to England. I was convinced it was me she was hiding from and used her father to put me off. If what they're saying is true, Camille, then she doesn't remember me." Tears swelled in my eyes.

“Maybe it’s a different Hannah.” She pulled out the business card Ophelia had handed her. “Her name is Hannah Madison.”

I fell forward, gripping my knees, letting out a strangled wail. “William?” Camille asked frantically, as she tried to hold on to me.

"It's her," I gasped out. "It's her, Camille! I should’ve known she'd never leave me."

Camille held me while I cried. I couldn't believe it, after all these years, I’d finally found her, only to have her not remember me. I was excited, hurt and scared. How was I going to tell her? How was I going to convince her to be with me? Ophelia had said she had no interest in relationships, and I really needed to have one with her.

HANNAH

I’d gotten Penelope ready for school and was about to step into the bathroom to take my shower. Just then, she came running in with her little fireman’s hat on that she’d gotten last month, when the fire marshal had done his latest inspection. "I need my fire engine, Mommy! I left it in here. I like to keep my fire engine clean, it’s a clean machine," she said, grabbing her fire truck and running out of the room.

Her words echoed in my head, and I settled on a memory, as I washed my hair…

He slipped into the shower behind me and pulled me back against his body. His hands roamed a little bit as he spoke. "Have you talked with your father yet?"

I stepped away from him, irritated, and started to lather my hair, ignoring the question.

"
You need to settle things with him, beautiful."

I shook my head at him, annoyed. "You don't get it. He's impossible. He doesn't understand what we have. He thinks I'm acting irrationally. He insists he knows what I'm feeling, because he felt that way with my mother. He thinks I just need to let you go, so my hormones will settle down."

He pulled me tight against him, as I fought off tears. "I'm sorry, beautiful. He's just worried you're gonna get hurt. That's just how dads are programmed."

"
That's how dads are programmed?" I sassed. "How would you know anything about being a dad?"

"
I'll be a dad someday, and if my daughter ran away across the country with a man she'd met just a few hours earlier, I’d lock her in a basement and have her treated at a mental health facility. Let's just pray our daughter doesn't give us the gray hairs you're giving your father."

"
Our daughter?" His words had me so worked up. I didn't know if I’d ever get used to the way we were. Everything in my world revolved around him, and I suspected it was the same for him. He revolved around me, always finding new ways to make me happy. He wanted babies with me, and I wanted to give them to him.

"
Our daughter will be just as beautiful as her mummy."

"
And what are we naming this daughter of ours?"

"
Easy, Penelope Lane, so we can call her Penny Lane. She
is
half English, after all," he grinned and then started singing the famous Beatle’s song, Penny Lane.

I reached back, smacking his butt. "You cheeky boy."

He started singing louder about a fireman keeping his engine clean, as he washed me seductively. I laughed, loving him so much. I wanted everything with him, and I knew he'd give it to me.

I was frustrated that I hadn’t seen his face again, but one thing troubled me, and it made me wonder if I was making up all these memories in my head. He’d spoken about my father, as if my dad had known a lot more about him. I just couldn’t fathom that I would’ve never told him more about him. My dad should've known more about my missing boyfriend, and he should’ve been able to tell me what I’d told him, when I’d first woken up from my coma. It just seemed like he should've been able to help me find him.

I was brought out of my musings by my phone ringing. I hopped out of the shower, drying off as I moved, and answered the phone.

"Hello, Ophelia."

"Hannah, I'm running a little late this morning, but Camille is going to meet you at the shop. It was easier to just give her a card with your address on it, instead of trying to look up the address of the coffee shop."

"That's fine."

"I don't know how long she'll want to stay. Her brother was sick last night. It's not uncommon to get sick when traveling, but this seemed different. Something is definitely up with him."

"I wouldn't get too worked up about it, Ophelia. Didn't Carter say they'd only be here for a week?"

"Yes, it sucks. I'm really having fun with Camille."

I couldn't help but snicker. "Yeah, I've noticed. You guys are two shopping peas in a pod. By the way, you're not dragging me along again today. You two are on your own."

"Fine, but you’d better make our coffee time count. I expect a few donuts to be consumed, along with a second drink to wash it down."

"You're silly, but I'll agree to your terms." I had to if I wanted to get her off the phone and get dressed.

Shawna knocked on the door and let me know she was taking Penelope downstairs to pick a book to share at school.

When I came down the steps into the shop, Mr. Greyson was looking at my little Penny with such worry that it unnerved me. I was ready for Shawna to take her to school and get her away from him. He caused such mixed reactions in me, it was insane. I felt compelled to be near him, but terrified by the way he looked at me and now my daughter. I didn't understand what was wrong with me. I wished my body would just make up its mind already.

WILLIAM

Camille's banging on my bedroom door woke me up from my restless sleep. I’d wanted to see Hannah immediately after I knew it was her for sure. I had to see her, but my sister pointed out that I didn't know her home address, and her little shop was closed.

"Up and at 'em, Brother, we're having coffee with the girls at eight thirty."

The prospect of seeing Hannah again was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. While I was in the shower, Camille laid out my clothes for me. I was surprised by what she'd chosen. It was very casual, jeans and a t-shirt. I put them on, a little confused. When Camille saw the look on my face, she smiled.

"I'm guessing that's the way you used to dress, it might jog her memory."

I hugged my sister. "Thanks, Camille."

She was surprised, when I insisted on stopping and buying flowers for Hannah. "They said she doesn't date. I have to make a good impression if I'm going to get her dating again."

I picked up a bouquet of hyacinths. They’d always been her favorite, and I wondered if they still were. As we walked up to her bookshop, my chest started to clench. What if she didn't want me anymore? Camille pushed me forward through the door. My eyes landed on the only two people in the little shop, a dark-haired woman and a little girl with curly copper hair.

"Come on, sweetie, pick a book already," she said.

I wondered if my daughter looked anything like this little girl. Her hair was the same color as mine back when I’d been little.
God, please let Hannah not have been raped,
I pleaded silently. Hannah came trotting down the stairs. She smiled at Camille and then looked uneasily at me, as I diverted my eyes from the little girl to her.

"Hey, Camille, it's good to see you again."

I felt panicked and feared I was going to be sick. Ophelia had told Hannah I wasn't feeling well last night, and she was looking at me as if she thought I just might be sick again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Greyson?"

I tried to draw air into my lungs, but I couldn't. I held up the flowers for her, and she smiled, but looked confused.

"Thank you, that was very kind of you." She turned to the dark-haired woman. "Shawna, could you put these in water for me?"

Shawna looked at the flowers and then at me and smiled widely.

"Penelope, have you picked your book yet?" Hannah asked the little girl, and I just about collapsed when she turned to Hannah. She had my striking violet eyes, and she looked just like me. She was without a doubt my daughter. The little girl ran up to her to show her mother a book.

"This one! I'll bet I can read it all by myself."

"Wonderful. Go put it in your backpack, and don't forget your piano book, too. You have lessons today at Uncle Carter's house, remember?"

Piano, she was taking piano lessons. I swelled with pride. My daughter took after me. I had to pull myself together if I was going to win over Hannah and get to help raise my daughter.

"So, Ophelia tells us your name is actually Hannah," I said, trying to engage her in conversation and steady myself.

She jumped at the sound of my voice, and her eyes flashed to me, as her face flooded with the beautiful blush I remembered. She looked at me for a moment, but then turned and shook her head, finding her voice again.

"Yes, Hannah Madison." She seemed to be trying to gather herself together enough to turn and look at me. When she did, a deep blush filled her cheeks again. Camille bumped me and looked curiously between the two of us.

"Will Ophelia be joining us?" Camille asked to distract her and give me a moment to check myself.

"Yes, she was running late and will be meeting us at the coffee shop. Wasn't there someone else with you as well?"

"Yes, Duncan, he and Carter are working this morning, William took off."

"Right, because you weren't feeling well. Are you sure you're up for going out?" she asked me nervously, almost as if she were hoping I’d back out. Not a chance.