Shoving to his feet, he was across the room and at her side. Picking up her shoes and setting them neatly by the kitchen island, he reached to steady her arm.
“I’m sorry, Caroline.” He smoothed a touch along her shoulder, remembering the feel of her lips against his the day before. “I should have given you a warning.”
“No need.” She waved off the apology, her high ponytail brushing her shoulder when she moved away. “You live here. I’m the newcomer.” She tipped the cell phone in her hand to show him. “I’m on hold with the local police department. I’m trying to speak to the officers you mentioned yesterday.”
“I thought they were going to call you when they went on duty?” He had been with her when they’d left a message at the station the day before.
“Shift change is at seven a.m. I thought I’d try to reach them before they head out for the day.” Her attention shifted to the call and she tucked the phone against her cheek. “Yes, I’m here. I’m holding for Officer Downey.”
Damon watched her pace the kitchen, her outfit a swirl of rich colors reflected in stainless steel appliances. She must have been transferred to the officer she wanted because she gave her name and the details of why she was calling, checking notes that she pulled from her purse to read him approximate dates Damon had given her yesterday.
Having his story checked was a strange sensation. Long before he’d dreamed up the idea for Transparent, he’d been a successful businessman. In Martinique, where he and his brothers owned a marina and a historic plantation home available for private parties and corporate retreats, he had a reputation for being a fair employer and a generous contributor to local causes. In Silicon Valley, he was a man people listened to. He filled lecture halls when he spoke at prestigious universities about digital progress.
But the woman he’d given his heart to had to verify his story with the police. Was that normal for amnesia sufferers? He added it to the list of things to ask the specialist, who’d made time to see her today when he called in a favor from a friend.
For now, he distracted himself by making a fresh pot of coffee for Caroline while she quizzed the cop on the other end of the phone.
“Thank you so much,” she finally said, her brown eyes darting Damon’s way. “I appreciate knowing more about what my father said.” She seemed to hesitate as she listened to the officer. She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “No,” she finally said. “Not yet. But I will contact you as soon as I’m ready to come in to give a statement.”
Caroline thumbed the off button and tucked her phone in her bag. Was it his imagination or did she take her time? The suspense was killing him.
“You need to give a statement?” he asked after a moment.
She slid the purse strap off her shoulder and laid the bag on the gray granite counter of the island. Licking her lips, she eyed him warily, ignoring the coffee mug he’d set out for her.
“I suffered amnesia, Damon.” Her chin was tilted, her posture defensive. “But I’ve recovered more memories than I led you to believe when I showed up here two days ago.”
That…was not what he’d expected.
Two days ago, he’d been sure she’d only come to see him to obtain a divorce. He braced himself for that news now, his whole body tensing.
“Why would you do that? Mislead me into thinking you didn’t remember what happened between us?” He hated that he hadn’t been a better husband. That he’d allowed her father to come between them when he’d known from the start that Stephan Degraff only wanted to get his hands on Transparent.
He couldn’t believe that Caroline had been a part of her father’s plan to usurp him all along. Refused to believe it.
“I needed to know why you didn’t report me missing.” The hurt in her eyes seemed real enough. “It didn’t make any sense. Besides, my father told me—”
“Your father?” His worse fears were confirmed. She’d been talking to that bastard all along.
Cold filled the hollow pit in his gut.
“He found me in Mexico. Helped me to locate a doctor to treat my amnesia—”
“When?” Damon regretted the harshness of his tone, but it was as though his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. Forcing his voice lower, he took a steadying breath. “Exactly how long have you and your father been playing me, Caroline? For two days? Or from the very beginning?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Caroline closed her eyes for a moment, giving herself a chance to think about her child. If Damon had truly loved her at one time, she owed it to Lucas to find out. Those photos from the honeymoon had filled her dreams the night before, stirring the slimmest hope that she and Damon could find some kind of happiness again.