But now he’d swear she was barely aware of his presence.
‘Why are you here, Alexa?’
Slowly she turned her head. Her features were curiously blank. ‘That’s just it. I don’t know. I don’t remember.’
She saw his head rear back and his mouth draw in a straight, flat line.
Why was he so set on rejecting the truth? Why wouldn’t he believe her?
To her horror, her mouth crumpled and she swung back to face the huge window. Emotion bubbled in her chest, making it tight and heavy with distress, a good match for her dully throbbing head.
She’d been so numbed by shock and pain before, and overwhelmed by the effort of answering the doctor’s questions, that things hadn’t sunk in. It was only now that she realised how small her world was, consisting merely of what she could see, touch, taste, hear and smell. Everything else was hidden by the misty nothingness that blurred her brain.
Her memory was a blank space. So blank it terrified her. Every time she groped for some snippet of the past it slid away.
She blinked and stared at the view of white-capped waves and lowering dark clouds billowing and scudding across the sky. The seascape was stunning, terrible yet strangely beautiful through the lashing rain.
Like the man standing beside the bed, silently seething. His impatience was like static prickling her skin and charging the air in the big, luxurious bedroom.
His stark disapproval matched the storm outside. As if he were a pagan weather god, living on a craggy hilltop, creating terrible storms when his mood turned sour.
If he smiled, would the sun come out?
She couldn’t imagine that happening. He looked too dour. Besides, she suspected he’d be too dangerously attractive if he smiled.
She blinked, her thoughts circling back to her predicament. How could she distract herself with such absurd ideas when she was in a crisis?
Because it’s easier than dwelling on the mess you’re in. No memory. In a place you’re clearly not wanted. With a man who loathes you.
She swallowed. Why should he loathe her? Maybe she was dreaming. All this, from the storm thundering outside to her companion who looked like the hero of some gothic romance, could be a nightmare.
‘What are you doing?’
She sighed and released the skin of her forearm that she’d pinched between her fingers. ‘Just checking I wasn’t dreaming this.’ She turned and met his dark gaze, relieved to find the banked anger had been replaced by curiosity. ‘You’resuremy name is Alexa?’
He nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
She bit her lip, letting herself sink back against the pillows he’d provided. Sitting up straight had taken too much energy when every muscle felt as if it had been strung tight for too long.
‘It doesn’t sound familiar.’ Panic stirred. ‘Surely it should if I’ve answered to the name for...’ Her breath caught on a hiccup.
‘What is it?’
He wasn’t exuding sympathy but there was no one else to help her and she needed, urgently, to understand what was happening.
Grimly she told herself this must be a temporary thing, caused by her accident. Yet that didn’t stop fear eddying deep inside. What if this lack of memory was permanent? Was it possible?
‘I don’t even know how old I am.’
For a second she didn’t think he’d respond. His face was set in stern lines as if he battled the impulse to walk away.
Cravenly she hoped he’d stay. Despite his attitude, he knew her. He could explain who she was and why she was here.
‘You admitted to twenty-three when I knew you, but that was five years ago.’
He looked at her from beneath lowered brows in a stare that was part accusation and part restlessness. Stoically she ignored his mood, silently rejoicing in the fact she was in her twenties, not the several decades older she felt at this moment with her aching body and muzzy head.
‘Admitted? There was some doubt?’