Sleeping Love (13 page)

It must be an internal call. Perhaps, Francine wants to ask me something.

‘Sabrina.’

She knew the minute the man said her name that it was him. The man who took her from her home, raped her and held her captive somewhere dark for endless days and beat her when she tried to escape. It was a disguised voice, but she knew it was him. The memories clouded her mind making her head spin and her legs turn to jelly. The pain and fear were almost too much to remember, but she steadied her voice.

‘You really can’t remember. That’s good. It will make it all the easier for me to take you away again. And this time, Sabrina, I won’t ever let you leave me again.’

‘I’m not afraid of you. Who are you? Why are you doing this?’

‘You should be afraid of me, and if you aren’t, I will make you.’

The line went dead and a terrified Sabrina could hardly put the phone down for shaking. She didn’t have to, Raoul was taking it from her trembling hand. He held her arms, his eyes searching her face for comprehension.

‘Who was that on the phone? It was him wasn’t it?’

She nodded.

‘I can’t remember who it is. But that voice. I feel sick. That was an internal line. It means he is somewhere in the house,’ she said frantically.

Raoul guided her to the bed and sat her down, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

‘I know, my love. I am very sure he is one of our guests. This is the only way I can find out who he is and protect you from him. I want you to stay close by my side,’ Raoul’s voice was gentle but urgent.

Sabrina looked at him shocked.

‘And when were you going to tell me about your plan? I don’t believe this . . . Don’t you think I had a right to know . . .’ she protested fearfully, her temper rising.

‘Sabrina, hush. There is a police officer in the house and the Chateau is being watched by them. Security is tight, I can assure you. I am sorry I have to put you through this, my love, but it is the only way I can protect you from this monster. Now listen to me, I want you by my side all of the time and on this I expect to be obeyed without question. Do you understand me?’ he fiercely demanded.

Sabrina stared unable to find the words to retaliate. Fear had overtaken her temper. Knowing the man was here in the house terrified her to the core. His disturbing presence made her feel vulnerable, helpless. She hated admitting it but she didn’t want Raoul to leave her side despite her angry feminist indignation. Her need for protection from Raoul won the battle out right. Ashamed of her fear she found herself nodding obediently in agreement.

‘He says he is going to take me back,’ she continued, ‘I remember what he did to me the night I disappeared, Raoul. I remember what he did. He raped me in the study, then he dragged me out of the house and pushed me in the boot. I’m sure there was somebody else with him in the car. He took me somewhere miles from here. I think it was to a house somewhere in the country. He kept me locked up in the cellar. It was so cold and dark. My food would come through a hole in the door. Sometimes I spent days sitting there in the dark, then he would come back and force me to . . . It feels as though it was just yesterday and not seven years ago. I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to remember.’

She stopped. Raoul’s face wore a mixture of horror and anger. He stopped rubbing her arms and stared. He was hanging on every word. It made her shake all the more as she worried how he was taking what she told him.

‘I tried to escape several times, but he kept getting me back. He hit me so much and forced himself on me.’

She began to cry. Raoul pulled her into the safety of his arms and held her tight against him, brushing his fingertips against her cheek to wipe her tears and soothe her fear. She felt him tremble with anger against her as she carried on narrating her story.

‘I eventually escaped. I don’t remember how at the moment, just that I did. I remember running through the fields. I must have planned it well because I somehow had money. I must have stolen it from him. I managed to get myself on a ferry. We were so close to the channel. I don’t know why I just didn’t go to the police. I was so injured. I started bleeding, and I knew I had to go to the hospital when I reached London. I collapsed when I went to hospital reception. I don’t remember any more after that.’

‘He won’t touch you or take you away,’ he told her calmly, deeply, yet she could hear the thunder of fury rumbling under his words. ‘Trust me Sabrina. Trust me as your husband.’ Raoul’s arms tightened protectively around her. ‘This time I won’t let you down. I will be there for you.’

Instinctively, she pressed her face against his chest allowing herself the indulgence of seeking his warmth and protection. Somewhere a part of her had to trust him. Once more confused by her conflicting feelings she listened to him whisper French words of endearment. She felt him stroke the softness of her hair and kiss it. In that brief moment she allowed herself to feel safe, warm and loved.

‘There is someone downstairs who is dying to see you again and can’t wait until dinner. I think it will be good for you to talk to her now,’ Raoul spoke softly, carefully, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

He slowly let go of her and rose to his feet. When he did finally look at her, his eyes were cold, distant and swollen with pain. His movement was precise and formal as though he was in the room with a stranger. She looked at him with confusion, feeling empty and abandoned. She bent her head as he picked up the phone to call down stairs. She was embarrassed and hurt. She’d made the mistake of letting her guard down, allowing him a glimpse of her vulnerability.

He came to tower over her as she sat on the bed now unable to meet his eyes for fear of what she might see. Hurriedly she wiped at her eyes. He was keeping the distance she requested earlier that day, the space between them she did not want anymore. He was acting as though she was infected, a leper. The thought slashed across her mind creating a painfully bleeding wound. But the anger that followed gave her the strength to protect herself and slam down the shields. Her eyes dried, and she folded her arms defensively across her chest as she felt him look down at her. He started to speak, but a frantic knock at the door cut his speech short.

‘Amelia.’ He forced a smile. ‘She is so eager to see you, she must have run up those stairs.’

He opened the door to reveal a tall, elegant blonde woman. She was dressed in a black bustier and flared evening trousers slit just past the ankles. Her black and white sandals were high and complemented the white and black patterned motif on the bottoms of the trousers and across the top of the bustier. It was a simple outfit but stunning, showing the woman’s long legs off to perfection. Her chocolate eyes danced with excitement as if she was a small child who had just got her hands in the cookie jar. But she said nothing, her full sensuous peach lips clamped tightly shut as if to prevent any errant words from escaping. She glanced at Raoul with impatience, waiting for his introduction.

‘Sabrina, this is your best friend Amelia Newman.’

Sabrina quickly looked away from him trying to stop her bottom lip from trembling and formed her lips into a shaky smile. It was the last thing she felt like doing. The woman rushed at her throwing her arms around Sabrina’s body.

‘Sabrina, I really can’t believe it’s you. Let me look at you. I don’t believe it, we almost have the same hairstyle.’ Her eyes turned serious. ‘That’s good, I never liked that long bob.’

Raoul shook his head. ‘I’ll leave you to get re-acquainted.’ He caught Amelia’s eye. ‘Take your time to catch up and talk.’

Amelia gave him a gentle nod of understanding. He left without even complementing Sabrina on the dress that he’d bought for her to wear.

‘Close? We were like sisters and still are I hope. I never gave up thinking you were alive and that you would come back one day. I figured it had to be something like losing your memory that prevented you from making your contact. Just like in the movies. It was never your style to walk away from anything.’

‘I know, he told me. Where did we meet?’

‘We met at boarding school in England. My father was the English Ambassador in Paris. We went right through school and University together. This is weird. It’s like I’m filling in the blanks, Sabrina. Anyway, you chose law and became a professional. I on the other hand decided to spend my life loafing around on my father’s money.’

She gave a wicked grin.

‘And I still am. You came to work in Paris and I followed. That’s when you met Raoul. You were suing his company on behalf of a client.’

Maybe Raoul’s affair with Cressida?

‘You arranged a meeting between your client, Raoul and his lawyer over some business dispute. I forget what it was, you know that stuff bores me.’

She smoothed her palms down the tops of her trousers. Nervous habit. Sabrina smiled reassuringly and asked her to continue, more than interested to know how Raoul supposedly fell in love with her and more so, how she could have fallen for such a gorgeous but domineering man.

‘No one envied you taking him on. The most feared and revered predator of the business world was not an opponent to be taking lightly, and you were just a new lawyer trying to make your mark on the world. He could have destroyed you. But you said he was only a man.’

Sabrina gave a small laugh.

‘Yes, that sounds just like what I would have said.’

Amelia shook her head and smiled. ‘Yes, that is you all right. Always walking where, angels fear to tread.’ She slipped her hand into her pocket and took out a silver cigarette case and a lighter before continuing.

‘I was worried. When I told my father about it, he shook his head. He thought you should just get your client to settle for the offer Raoul had already made for an out of court settlement. It was well known that if you made an enemy of Raoul, you would be made to regret it.’

Amelia stood up opening the case and took out a cigarette. She tapped it on top of the case.

‘I know you hate me smoking, but I didn’t expect to be so nervous around you. Do you mind if . . .’

She gestured at the French doors that led out to a wide balcony. Sabrina nodded and stood up to follow her. Amelia opened the doors on to the cold air.

‘It’s bloody freezing. Look at the snow. Doesn’t the place look picturesque?’ she said lighting her cigarette and giving a shiver.

‘Yes it does.’ Sabrina felt impatience to know what happened, gnaw at her. The woman loved to take her time telling a story. ‘Here let me get you something to wear or you will freeze to death.’

Sabrina rummaged around in one of the drawers and eventually found where Francine had put her cardigan all neatly folded up. She draped it around her friend’s shoulders then reached for the bed throw to cover her own shoulders as Amelia nodded thanks, ‘You always did look after me.’