Her Forgotten Husband. Anne Ha
back.
Had she known? Had she willingly settled for a one-way marriage in order to be with her childhood crush? Or had she thought their feelings were mutual? Maybe she’d found out he didn’t love her, and that was what they’d fought about, what had made her such a terrible driver the night of her accident.
Maybe he’d let her think he loved her to get her to have a fling, but then it had backfired when she’d gotten pregnant.
She considered Garrick as he helped her into his dark green sedan, his touch warm and reassuring on her arm. He radiated confidence, strength and purpose. He didn’t seem like the devious type, she thought, the type to take advantage of a young girl’s crush.
Which left a distressing alternative. Maybe she’d taken advantage of him.
Samantha watched Garrick circle to the driver’s side, his dark hair lifting in the wind. Today he wore a blue chambray shirt and casual khaki chinos. He looked every bit as sexy as he had last night, and again she felt the pull of attraction and desire. He was an incredibly handsome man.
Could she have done it?
She didn’t want to face the possibility, but she couldn’t ignore it: she was pregnant, and he’d admitted that had something to do with their marriage. So had she set out to seduce him? Had she planned to get pregnant to entrap him?
If she had, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to regain her memory.
Garrick pulled out of the hospital complex and joined the flow of traffic down the hill. “Feeling okay?” he asked her. “Does it upset you to be in a car?”
Samantha shook her head, unable to voice her troubled thoughts. Deliberately she smiled and relaxed her grip on her purse. “I’m fine,” she said. “The car doesn’t bother me at all.”
It was true, too. Garrick’s car felt comfortable, solid and sturdy, and he drove with competent ease. She wondered how many times she’d ridden in it with him.
Reaching the bottom of the hill, they drove along a few city streets and then uphill again on a steep, curvy road. The trees arching over the roadway were thick with spring leaves, and warm air swept in through the open window. They passed large houses set back from the road.
Nothing was familiar.
“Have I been on this road before?”
He glanced over at her. “It’s the quickest route from your old apartment to the house. You probably drove it when you came to visit Jenny.”
“Oh. Where was my apartment?”
“Across the river, about fifteen minutes from here.”
“Did I live there until we got married?”
He nodded. “We can go see it sometime, if you’d like. Maybe it will spark a memory.”
And maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe her previous life would always remain a total blank, the good memories gone along with the bad.
She wondered suddenly where they’d made love that first time, when she’d seduced him. Had she lured him back to her apartment under false pretenses, or had she brazenly invited herself into his bed? Maybe she’d attacked him at his office, or in a dumpy motel room. She wondered whether she had good memories of that hour in his arms, or bad.
Looking at Garrick’s virile male form on the leather seat beside her, at his capable hands on the steering wheel, Samantha was pretty sure the memories were good. At least the ones of their lovemaking.
“Samantha?”
She flushed. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just thinking. We can go by the apartment tomorrow if you think it would help.”
“Why don’t we see how you’re feeling? You may need a few days’ rest.”
Rest wasn’t high on Samantha’s list of priorities, even though she knew her body needed it. She didn’t want to spend long hours alone in a house she didn’t remember, surrounded by possessions that didn’t rekindle any of her lost memories. She couldn’t imagine anything more lonely.
It would be better to get a good night’s sleep and go to work in the morning, even though Dr. Hernandez had said she shouldn’t.
She caught herself. How could she go to work? She didn’t know where she worked, much less what she did. And how would she remember what to do? For that matter, she couldn’t even be sure she was employed!
“Do I have a job?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What do I do?”
“You’re the assistant marketing director of an office supply firm.”
“Oh.” Samantha took a moment to digest this. What did such a position entail? It sounded strange and intimidating, as if she were hearing about someone else’s job rather than her own.
She took stock of her clothes—a pair of wheatcolored jeans and a plain white T-shirt, which Garrick had brought her that morning. It didn’t look like the sort of outfit an assistant marketing director would wear.
“Are you sure I don’t deliver pizzas or rent out movies at the video store?”
He smiled. “No, you’re definitely in marketing, and you’re very good at your job.”
“I don’t remember anything about it.”
“You will,” he replied. “In any case, they’ve got you covered. You’d planned an extended maternity leave, and they’d already started to prepare for your absence. This is a little sooner than expected, of course, but there’s no rush to get back before your memory returns.”
“If it ever does,” she muttered.
Garrick took a hand from the steering wheel and placed it on her knee. The gesture was meant to comfort, she knew, but its effect was less than soothing. The warmth of him burned through the fabric of her jeans, shooting sparks of awareness up her body.
Disturbed she could be so affected by a man she knew didn’t love her, Samantha wanted to pull away.
Garrick spared her the effort. He lifted his hand quickly, frowning as if he, too, was bothered by the casual contact.
“Don’t worry,” he said after a moment. “Whatever happens, you’ll be able to deal with it. You’ve always been levelheaded, Samantha.”
For some reason this disappointed her. The way he said it made her sound almost boring. “Always?”
He studied her for a long moment. “No, not always… I wouldn’t have married you if you didn’t have an adventurous streak.”
Garrick’s meaning was clear enough. He might as well have said straight out that he’d only married her because she’d gotten pregnant. The only surprising thing was that his voice wasn’t bitter. It was almost as if he didn’t mind being trapped into marrying her.
She must have misinterpreted his tone, she decided. Perhaps her concussion had affected her perception. Or perhaps it was the effects of carrying the baby.
The baby. Samantha gazed down at her abdomen.
Garrick had said he wanted the baby, and she believed him. But would he love her or him, even though he didn’t love Samantha? A child needed a lot of attention and nurturing, and if Garrick acted simply out of a sense of duty, surely the child would know. And worse, if he treated his offspring as some sort of unwelcome houseguest, a burden that had been thrust on him by a conniving mother, she wouldn’t be able to stand it.
“So,” she said, eager to distract herself from her unpleasant thoughts, “I’m in marketing. What do you do?”
“I’m the president of an office supply firm.”
She looked over at him. “The same firm?”
Garrick