Did You Say...Wife?. Judith McWilliams
wonder is that you’ve come out of this in one piece.”
She shuddered as the memory of his crumpled body lying on the pavement flashed through her mind.
“Except for the minor fact that I can’t remember anything,” he said dryly.
“Your memory will come back.” The surgeon had assured them of it when he’d released Lucas from the hospital that morning.
“It’d better be soon. You’re sure my vice president is competent to run my company?”
“Positive, and like I told you, Christmas is a slack time at work. Everyone has other things on their minds.”
Including me, she thought. Especially me. Jocelyn took a deep breath to try to control the emotions churning through her. Ever since they’d left the hospital, she’d felt as if she’d wandered into that old television show called Fantasy Island. It was as if some powerful wizard had arranged to give her a taste of what she wanted more than anything else in the world. To be Lucas’s wife. But that same wizard had included a nasty wild card in the mix—the knowledge that Lucas might regain his memory at any minute and turn her dream into a nightmare.
Jocelyn nervously chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated Lucas’s reaction to her deception. She could probably make him understand why she’d pretended to be his wife in the first place. Making sure that he received the proper medical attention as soon as possible made sense and could be easily defended. Where it was going to get tricky would be trying to explain why she had continued her impersonation once he was out of danger. Maybe she could tell him that she had been afraid the hospital would contact his half brother to provide care, and she had been worried about what Bill might do?
It had the distinct advantage of being the truth, just not all the truth. But Lucas might not realize that.
But whether he believed her or not, she had to stop worrying about the future or she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the present.
She’d never spent Christmas with someone she loved before, and she was determined to savor this one as long as and as hard as she could.
“Why so serious?” Lucas studied the deserted country road in front of them. “Are you tired after the flight? I can drive for a while. I must know how.”
Jocelyn gave a gurgle of laughter.
She had the most enchanting laugh, he thought. It made him feel warm and happy. As if something wonderful were about to happen.
“Thanks, anyway, but I’ll drive. Finding out how much you remember about driving is not something I want to try on a snowy mountain road.”
“I guess not,” Lucas muttered absently as an image of skiing over the snow briefly flashed through his mind. He could almost feel the icy snow hitting his face and the warmth of the afternoon sun on his back.
“Did you remember something?” Jocelyn noticed his abstracted expression and felt a sudden flash of fear.
Lucas caught the tension in her voice. Clearly his loss of memory bothered her a great deal. Which was hardly surprising, he conceded. Being married to someone who didn’t remember you must be stressful in the extreme. It was no wonder she seemed on edge every time his amnesia was mentioned. It would probably be easier on her nerves if he didn’t mention his disconcerting flashes of memory.
“No, but I’m working on it.” He made his voice purposefully cheerful. “Did we spend last Christmas at this ski lodge we’re going to?”
Jocelyn briefly weighed lying and saying yes, but then decided that the fewer lies she told, the fewer lies she’d have to remember. And apologize for later.
“We weren’t married last Christmas.”
“When did we get married?”
Wildly Jocelyn searched her memory, trying to come up with a date that would be easy to remember. Halloween, she decided. This whole affair had a distinct flavor of trick or treat to it.
“October thirty-first,” she said.
“And what kind of wedding was it? Formal?” He waited hopefully for a flash of memory. For an image, however brief, of Jocelyn in a long, white, flowing dress, her face hidden by a white veil, walking down the aisle toward him. To his disappointment his mind remained a blank.
“No. We just got a license and were married by a justice of the peace,” she said shortly. “Are you sure your head isn’t bothering you? Maybe you ought to try to rest a minute.”
And quit asking her questions that she didn’t want to answer, Lucas drew the obvious conclusion. But why didn’t she want to talk about their wedding? Unless she resented the fact that they had gotten married in what sounded like a hole-in-the-corner affair? But if she had disliked being married by a justice of the peace, why had she agreed to it? A woman as gorgeous and intelligent as Jocelyn was could have her pick of husbands. And she’d picked him. The sense of pride and satisfaction that filled him was quickly followed by a rush of doubt. Why had she picked him?
Drop it, Forester, he told himself. You’re only going to upset her by pushing.
“Maybe a rest is a good idea,” Lucas said, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes to shut out the glare from the bright afternoon sun.
To his surprise he drifted into a light sleep that lasted until Jocelyn turned sharply, and the deeply rutted driveway proved a challenge to the suspension system of the Mercedes they’d rented at the airport.
Lucas opened his eyes and looked around curiously. In front of them was a small, one-story house covered in grayed cedar shakes. It seemed to have grown out of the hillside. But despite the bleak color, the house seemed to exude a welcoming air. As if it had been patiently waiting for him to return, he thought fancifully, and then blinked as he got a flash of a crackling fire blazing merrily in a fieldstone fireplace.
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