Claiming His Runaway Bride / High-Stakes Passion: Claiming His Runaway Bride / High-Stakes Passion

“I thought you might have been in bed already,” he commented, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

So he’d recognised her sudden fear. He knew her better than she gave him credit for, but then, of course he would. Right now he knew her better than she knew herself. Sudden tears of frustration sprang to her eyes.

Luc stopped brushing, his hands settling on her shoulders.

“Belinda?”

She blinked away the burning moisture, breaking eye contact with him. He saw far too much.

“I’m okay. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Understandable. It’s been a full day, for both of us.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Go to bed. I’ll be along in a while.”

She couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed that he wasn’t coming to bed now.

“Aren’t you tired, too?” she asked.

“Yes, but something’s come up. Guests we weren’t expecting until late next week have brought their trip forward to the day after tomorrow. Manu and I have some contingency plans to lay in place.”

“Guests? Already?”

“It’s not ideal, but they can’t be put off. They should only be here a couple of nights.”

“They’re regulars?”

“After a fashion, yes.”

“Then they’ll have certain expectations. We must meet them. You can’t give them less than that. You wouldn’t under normal circumstances,” she said carefully.

Right now Belinda couldn’t think of anything worse, but this was Luc’s business. The fact he’d cancelled out six weeks of patronage for their honeymoon—six weeks they’d lost—meant he would have to get back to business. Besides, the sooner she resumed life as she’d known it, the sooner she might start to remember.

“Spoken like a true hotelier’s daughter. We’ll worry about it in the morning. Now, go to bed.”

He dropped a fleeting kiss on her forehead and turned her toward the bedroom, following close on her heels. When she was settled in the bed, he switched off the lamp nearest her. Belinda suddenly reached out and held his arm.

“Please, leave the other light on until you come to bed?”

“It won’t disturb you?”

“No. I grew used to a light in the hospital.” She stifled a yawn. “Besides, I doubt anything could keep me awake now.”

Challenging heat flared in Luc’s eyes and Belinda felt an answering response in her body. The elasticized bodice of her nightwear felt too small as her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric.

Well, maybe there was one thing. As wrong as this all felt to her she couldn’t deny there was a powerful magnetic pull between them. Luc straightened and trailed his hand over her shoulder and down her arm, leaving her skin tingling beneath his fleeting touch.

She barely heard the click of the door as it closed behind him. A near overwhelming desire to call him back choked in her throat as Belinda silently admitted she’d never felt so completely lost and alone in her entire life.

The meeting with Manu had been productive, and Luc let himself back into their suite with a tired sigh of relief. Their guests would arrive the day after tomorrow around lunchtime, in time for drinks followed by an al fresco luncheon on the deck. Then, if Belinda was up to it, she’d accompany the female member of the party to Taupo by helicopter for a couple of hours’ shopping while he and Manu took her husband fly-fishing in one of the rivers that ran through the property.

The female member.

Luc clenched his jaw against the curse that fought to rip from his throat. He had no doubt that Demi Le Clerc had trouble up her sleeve when she’d had her assistant phone the estate to change her booking. His unease had magnified when Manu reported he’d tried to contact the award-winning jazz singer to inform her that the booking couldn’t be altered but apparently she and her new fiancé were “in transit” and therefore unavailable. With modern communication being what it was, Luc very much doubted she was unreachable, rather that she’d informed her staff of her intention to be that way. How she’d found out so quickly that he’d returned home said a great deal for her spy network.

Manu had already agreed to check amongst the staff to find out if that particular spy network had been fed by one of their own. Confidentiality and loyalty were sacrosanct. If anyone had abused either, they were in breach of their employment contract and would be dispensed with immediately.

Luc swallowed against the bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of Demi and Belinda meeting. He was reluctant to expose her to Belinda while his wife was still in such a vulnerable position, but then, it may well work to his advantage. What harm could Demi possibly do when Belinda remembered nothing of their time together? Belinda had no idea their marriage had been the catalyst that had seen Demi break tabloid records with the speed of her engagement to aging billionaire oilman Hank Walker.

He’d been a fool to ever let Demi think there was more to their relationship than casual friendship. He’d never once entertained the idea of marrying her, despite her attempts to entice him into commitment. They’d made love just the once—a coupling that provided physical release only, with little else to recommend it.

Luc moved restlessly toward his piano in the dimly lit room. He was too wound up to sleep. He closed his eyes and let his fingers drift gently across the keys, the haunting quality of the music he played flowed over him—relaxing his muscles and his mind.

Playing had always had that effect on him, even back in his teens, although he was never the kind of teenager who’d have admitted to this particular skill. No, hotwiring cars and breaking and entering were more his style then. It had been during a B&E that he’d been sprung by the owner of the house—an elderly gentleman who’d seen right through Luc’s attitude and invited him back, through the front door next time. It had taken six weeks but Luc had found his feet retracing the path to Mr. Hensen’s home. The retired pianist had sensed Luc needed an outlet, a change of direction in his path of self-destruction. He’d insisted on giving Luc lessons—lessons that had been emphatically refused until the threat of going to the police was coolly raised.

It had been ages since Luc had thought about Mr. Hensen. Ages since he’d allowed himself to miss the old man in a way he’d never missed his parents after their deaths.

As the final note hung on the air, Luc let his eyes open again. Belinda sat opposite him on one of the large cream sofas, her feet curled under her. His eyes raked over her barely clad body, his pulse leaping to instant life. It had been torture to leave her in bed, her body gilded by the bedside lamp, her hair a glorious fan across the fine linen of her pillowcase. He’d wanted to make love with her with a physical ache that had almost driven him to his knees—to imprint himself back in her mind and her body in a way she would never forget again.

He dragged his wayward thoughts under disciplined restraint. Luc Tanner hadn’t gotten where he was today by giving in to impulse. No, everything about his life was about control. He’d learned the hard way what a lack of power did to a person, how it demeaned them—rendered them helpless victims. The helpless had no respect in this world. Pity, yes. But he’d had his fill of pity and well-meaning intentions. Now he commanded respect in all walks of his life.

“You play beautifully,” Belinda said, her voice hesitant, as if she sensed the power play going on inside him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I guess I’m too used to the disruptions and noise of the hospital. The quiet, of all things, woke me. A bit later I heard you on the piano. Did your meeting with Manu go well?”

“Yes, everything’s organised. Are you sure you’re okay with this? I can have them rerouted to another property if necessary.”

“Luc, when I couldn’t get back to sleep I started to think about a few things, and to be honest, as terrifying as it is, I have to get back into my old life if I’m going to move forward. I can’t turn back time and see what happened before, but I can’t stay stagnant like this, either. It’s driving me crazy. Everything around me—” she waved her arm to encapsulate the room “—it’s all new, yet sometimes familiar at the same time. Even the music you played. I know you’ve played it for me before, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

Luc swallowed. Yes, he’d played it for her before. The last time had been the night he’d proposed. They’d spent a day out on the estate together, made love together for the first time on the riverbank during a picnic—his body tightened in remembrance of her welcoming embrace, at how she’d uninhibitedly given herself fully to him. He’d instantly become addicted to her in a way he’d never imagined possible.

He’d never wanted anyone or anything in his life as much as he wanted her. The truth had frightened him until he’d persuaded himself it was because she was the perfect accompaniment to the world he’d built. He couldn’t have been thinking of anything else. By the time they’d driven back to the house, he’d decided to step up his plans and propose to her earlier than he’d anticipated. He still remembered the surge of triumph when she’d said yes.

They’d fallen to the floor, right here in this sitting room, and made love again to seal their betrothal. All she’d worn for the next twenty-four hours had been the blue diamond engagement ring he’d had made for her months earlier.

“Will you play something else for me now?” Belinda’s voice dragged him back from the past.

“Another time,” he said, rising from the piano bench and grabbing his cane.

He offered her his hand to pull her to her feet, and they went through to the bedroom together. By the time he’d undressed and was ready for bed she was curled on her side of the bed, her eyes closed, her breathing even.

She’d fallen asleep after all. But as he slid between the cool cotton of the sheets, she rolled over to face him, her blue-grey eyes massive in her heart-shaped face.

“Luc?”

He lifted a hand to smooth away a strand of her hair that fell across her cheek. “Hmmm?”

“What I said before…” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “What I said before about getting back into my old life—I meant every aspect of my old life. Obviously we’re not strangers to each other. Whenever I look at you my body tells me that.”

So she still felt the same inexorable pull between them. Luc suppressed the smile of satisfaction that threatened to spread across his face at her words.

He watched as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly choosing her next words carefully.

“Well, what I mean is…if you want to…y’know. Maybe it’ll help.” Her words faded away into the expanding silence of the room.

Luc traced the curve of her brow, then the sweep of her cheekbone with one finger, before bringing it to rest at the cupid’s bow of her lips. He’d wanted her to come to him willingly and now she had. Something foreign warmed and bloomed deep inside him.

“No,” he said quietly, his negative response surprising even himself.

“You don’t want me?” She sounded hurt and relieved at the same time.

“Oh, I want you. When the time is right we will make love again. But tonight isn’t that time. When we make love it won’t be because you want to remember, but because you do.”

Was that relief in her eyes or disappointment? He leaned forward and took her lips gently with his own, holding back the beast that clawed within him to plunder their generous softness. As much as it tormented him, he would wait.

She sighed softly against his lips. “Good night, Luc.”

She rolled over to her other side, and Luc curved his arm around her, pulling her in close against the hardness of his body. He felt her stiffen as the evidence of his arousal nestled along the crease of her buttocks, then felt her relax into him as the truth of his obvious desire for her sank in, secure in the knowledge his rejection of her wasn’t because he didn’t want her.

He lay there for hours, his eyes burning in the dark as she slid into a deep sleep. Her body shaped to his. His instincts screamed to take her and brand her his once more. It would be the ultimate satisfaction, when she remembered everything, for her to know she hadn’t been able to resist him. But he’d meant what he’d said before. When she made love with him again it would be because she remembered what their lovemaking had been like, how it had become a compulsion neither of them could deny. How they’d both resented everything that had come between their opportunities to be alone together. If he could do anything in his power to encourage that memory, he would.

The intense satisfying physicality of their relationship had been an unexpected bonus. An indicator, of sorts, that he’d been right all along when he’d decided to make Belinda Wallace his wife and mistress of Tautara Lodge. His life—his plan—would carry on as before. The hiccup of their accident would fade into a minor blip on the radar of his success.

Six

The next morning Belinda awoke feeling more rested than she had in ages. But with the fresh light of the morning, and the cool empty sheets beside her, anxiety had reasserted itself once more.

Where had the trepidation she’d felt when she’d first seen him at the hospital gone? She’d been forced into close contact with him yesterday—a close contact she hadn’t questioned and which, to be totally honest, had felt right. Was this how victims of Stockholm Syndrome felt? Had that been Luc’s intention all along—to make her completely reliant on him so far away from what little familiarity she had?

Aside from the obvious, the fact she couldn’t remember what was a very important part of her life, why did she still feel as though there was something more overshadowing her mind’s refusal to recall her memories. Even now, as she approached Luc at the dining table, where he sat reading a paper over breakfast, she sensed a closed door deep inside of him, a part of him that lay deep in shadow, and she wanted to know what was behind that door.

The only way she would find out was to keep going. He was her husband. She owed it to them both. Belinda painted a smile on her face and forced herself not to smooth the short-sleeved top she’d pulled on over designer jeans one more time as Luc looked up.

“Good morning,” Luc said, folding his paper neatly and putting it to one side. “You slept well?”

“Very well.” A faint rush of heat bloomed across her cheeks as she recalled how his enveloping arms had held her against him, how her body had reacted to his touch.

“Good.” Luc gave a nod of satisfaction. “Since we’re technically working from tomorrow, I’ve planned some fun for us today.”

“Fun? That sounds intriguing. What have you got in mind?”

Belinda reached for the coffee carafe and poured Luc another cup. She was halfway through pouring when her hand suddenly shook.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted another.” She stopped pouring and rested the carafe on a place mat on the table.

Luc gave her a searching look. “I always have two cups at breakfast.”

The ramifications of Luc’s reply echoed through her mind. She instinctively remembered that, but she didn’t remember him? How labyrinthine could the mind get? Her neurologist had spoken to her at length about the voids in her memory and how simple everyday matters could appear, as this one had this morning. Being here—being with Luc—obviously stimulated the part of her mind that held her memory captive.

Luc placed his hand over hers, where it rested on the handle of the carafe. She fought not to flinch from his touch, from the spark of physical recognition that relentlessly spiralled through her every time he was near.

“You remembered that without trying. Don’t over analyse it. Just let it come.”

“How can I do that when I don’t know the difference between remembering and not?” Her voice shook slightly.

“We’ll find a balance. Don’t worry. Who knows what might happen today.”

He let go of her hand, took a swig of his coffee, then rose from the table.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d take a trip around parts of the estate today. Play hooky.” He gave her a smile. “Are you up for it?”

A sensation, not unlike fear, snaked along her spine. She couldn’t help but feel he had a hidden agenda to his suggestion.

“Just the two of us?” she asked.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me. Should it?” She forced her lips into a smile.

Luc’s eyes narrowed as her question hung on the air. “If you’d rather stay here at the lodge today, that’s okay.”

“No, no! Going out today would be fabulous.”

“Well, if it assuages your fears any, Manu will be driving us.” He rose to his feet and snatched his cane up from by the table.

“I could drive,” Belinda offered.

Luc halted midstride. His face paled measurably and he gave her a searching look that made her heart stutter in her chest. What had she said wrong?

“Or not.” She attempted to lighten the air that had suddenly frozen between them with glacial coolness.

“I think not. Not yet, anyway.” Luc appeared to have recovered his equilibrium and his skin recovered its usual hue. “How soon can you be ready?”

Belinda flicked a glance at the clock above the kitchen stove. “Give me ten minutes, then I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” Luc’s voice deepened and Belinda was suddenly swept with an uneasy sense of déjà vu.

She put out a hand and grasped a chair back to steady herself. Tiny black dots danced before her eyes. She forced herself to breathe, drawing air into her lungs and expelling it again with careful deliberation. She felt Luc’s hand at her back—a reassurance that lent her much-needed strength.

“You okay?” His breath stirred the hair at her nape.

“Yeah,” she said on shaky breath. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go and get ready.”

“Make sure you grab a jacket in case it gets cool later, and wear comfortable walking shoes, okay?”

“We’ll be out all day?”

“If you’re up for it.”

She let go of the chair and stepped out of his reach. “I’m up for it.”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

By the time she’d splashed her face and reapplied her makeup, she was heading closer to fifteen minutes than the ten she’d promised, but as she joined Luc at the front door she had at least regained most of her equilibrium. It niggled at her that he hadn’t been keen for her to drive. She’d held her licence since her late teens and had always been a good driver, but he’d looked sick to his stomach at the prospect.

Ah, well, she sighed, at least this way she’d get to enjoy the countryside a bit more than if she had to concentrate on the roads.

She was surprised when Luc sat in the back beside her as they headed off, and said as much. Luc responded by linking his fingers through hers and answering, “I’ve been forced to be apart from you for too long already. Why wouldn’t I want to be by my wife’s side?”

There was an intensity to his words that both soothed and unnerved her. She gave herself an internal shake. What was wrong with her? Everything she felt at the moment was a contradiction to what she’d felt only a moment ago. And underlying it all was the insidious awareness that something wasn’t right, that somehow she was living the wrong life. Maybe she should have let Luc call the doctor yesterday. This weird sense of displacement, the inherent sense of wrongness couldn’t be normal.

Luc dragged her attention to the land that spread out before them and described the extent of the estate’s farming and forestry operations, as they followed the road down the side of the hill, going deeper into the valley with every kilometre. As far as she could see in any direction the land was entailed in Tautara Estate. She started to get a new appreciation of how vast her husband’s business interest here was and how many staff he employed.

“And Luc is being modest,” Manu interrupted as he negotiated a hairpin bend in the road. “We offer some of the best fishing and hunting grounds in the whole of New Zealand, and for the adventurous they can go rafting, too.”

“Sounds like you offer it all,” Belinda commented.

“Yeah, well, we aim to please, don’t we, mate?” Manu’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkled with the smile that wreathed his face.

“We do at that,” Luc answered enigmatically, and gave Belinda’s hand a gentle squeeze.

After just over an hour they reached a clearing and Manu pulled the four-wheel-drive vehicle in and parked, leaping down to open Belinda’s door for her before she could alight.

“Here you are. I’ll head on as we discussed this morning, okay?”

“Thanks, Manu,” Luc answered.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” There was a note of concern in the other man’s voice that alerted Belinda he was not entirely happy to be leaving them here.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Besides, I’ve got this and I’ve got the two-way.” Luc lifted his cane slightly with one hand and patted the small radio clipped to his belt with the other. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Make sure he does.” Manu turned to Belinda, the serious light in his eyes telling her unreservedly that he wasn’t kidding. “I mean it, if he looks like he’s in any pain at all, call me.”

“Stop fussing, Manu.” Irritation laced Luc’s words with acerbity.

“You call being sensible, fussing? Her with her blackout yesterday, you with your hip, both of you just out of hospital and now me leaving you both in the wilderness. I need my head read is what.”

Though he tried to inject some humour into his voice Belinda could see he was genuinely worried. She put her hand out to him, gripping his forearm and meeting his worried gaze full-on.

“I will look after him, don’t worry. And if I feel like I can’t manage, either him or myself, Luc will call you. Okay?”

“S’pose it’ll have to be. Right, then, catch you later.”

Still muttering, Manu climbed back into the four-by-four and wheeled back out onto the private road, heading off in the same direction they’d been travelling.

“He has a point.” Belinda turned to Luc. “We pretty much are the walking wounded.”

“Are you worried?” He gave her a searching look.

“No, not at all. In fact it’s great to be out in the fresh air. Away from walls.”

“I know what you mean. If you want to head back at any stage just tell me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said with emphasis on the “I,” and left unsaid the query as to whether he could manage. It was clear his strength was an issue of pride; she didn’t want to aggravate him with her concern any more than Manu already had.

“We’ll both be fine. The walk is level and there are plenty of rest stops on the way. C’mon.”

Luc took her by the hand and led her along a welltrodden trail that wound alongside a bubbling river. All around them the sounds of bird life and the ever-present hum of cicadas filled the air. The air was warm and a soft breeze played in the trees. She was glad they’d left their jackets in the car. Despite her earlier fears, Belinda felt herself begin to relax. They took their time, and Luc paused every fifteen minutes or so to point out items of interest—a particular indigenous plant he knew she’d delight in, or the movement of fish in the water.

At one point Luc pulled her down to sit with him on a large fallen tree.

“Let’s rest awhile,” Luc said, rubbing absently at his hip as he propped his cane beside him.

“Is your leg bothering you?” Belinda wondered just how much pain he was in.

“A little,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine after a bit of a rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Besides, it never hurts to stop and just enjoy the scenery from time to time.”

Belinda’s cheeks flushed under the heat in his gaze. Judging by his intensely focused look, he wasn’t talking about the riverbank or its surroundings. Luc lifted a hand to smooth her hair away from her face, and his fingers slid along her scalp to cup the back of her head.