Billionaire's Contract Engagement(34)

"You said there was a fatality. What happened exactly?" He rose from his  chair, began pacing as the P.I. gave him what few details he had about  the crash. And it was bad. Worse than Ash could have ever imagined. "Is  Melody being held responsible?"

"Fortunately, no. The police filed it as an accident. That doesn't mean there won't be a civil suit, though."

They would deal with that when and if the time came. "How is Melody? Do you have any details on her condition?"

"All the hospital would say is that she's stable. They'll only give  details to family. When I asked to talk to her, they said she wasn't  taking phone calls. That usually means that for whatever reason, the  patient is unable to speak. My best guess would be she's unconscious."

Since Melody left him, Ash had been counting the hours until she came  crawling back to ask forgiveness, to say that she'd made a mistake. At  least now he knew why she hadn't. Although that wasn't much of a  consolation. And he would be damned if anyone was going to stop him from  learning the truth. "I guess I'll just have to be family."

"You going to say she's your long-lost sister or something?" the P.I. asked.

"Of course not." He needed something a bit more believable. Something he could easily prove.

Melody was his fiancée.

The next morning Ash caught the earliest flight to the Dallas/Fort Worth  airport, then rented a car and made the two-and-a-half-hour drive to  Abilene. He had called ahead the afternoon before, setting up a meeting  with the doctor in charge of her care. They told him that Melody was  conscious and out of the woods, but that was the most they would say  over the phone.

Once he got to the hospital he strode right past the registration desk.  He'd learned a long time ago that if he looked as though he belonged  somewhere, showed he was in charge, people naturally followed along, and  no one tried to stop him as he stepped onto the elevator. He got off on  the third floor, surprised to realize that he was actually nervous.  What if Melody didn't want to come back to him?

Of course she would, he assured himself. Her leaving had obviously been a  great error in judgment, and it would have only been a matter of time  before she realized how much she missed him. Besides, where else would  she go while she healed from her injuries? She needed him.

He stopped at the nurses' station and they paged a Dr. Nelson. He appeared less than five minutes later.

"Mr. Williams?" he said, shaking Ash's hand. The department on his name  badge was neurology, which likely meant that Melody had suffered some  sort of brain injury. Which explained why she would have been  unconscious. But did it mean her injuries were even more serious than he  could have imagined? What if she never made a full recovery?

"Where is my fiancée?" Ash asked, surprised by the note of panic in his  voice. He needed to hold it together. Barging in and making demands  would only make this more difficult. Especially if Melody told them he  actually wasn't her fiancé. He took a second to collect himself and  asked, in a much calmer tone, "Can I see her?"         

     



 

"Of course, but why don't we have a talk first."

He wanted to see Melody now, but he followed the doctor to a small  family waiting room by the elevator. The room was empty, but for a  television in the corner playing some daytime game show. He sat and  gestured for Ash to join him.

"How much do you know about the accident?" the doctor asked.

"I was told that the car rolled, and there was one fatality."

"Your fiancée is a very lucky woman, Mr. Williams. She was driving on a  back road when the crash occurred and it was several hours before  someone drove past and discovered her there. She was airlifted here for  treatment, but if the local EMS team hadn't worked so quickly, you would  be having this conversation with the coroner."

A knot twisted his insides. It was surreal to imagine that he had come  so close to losing Melody for good, and the thought of her lying trapped  and alone, not knowing if she would live or die, made him sick to his  stomach. He may have been angry that she left him, but he still cared  deeply for her. "What was the extent of her injuries?"

"She suffered a subdural hematoma."

"A brain injury?"

He nodded. "Until two days ago she's been in a drug-induced coma."

"But she'll recover?"

"We expect her to make a full recovery."

Ash's relief was so intense, his body went limp. If he hadn't already  been sitting, he was sure his legs would have given out from under him.

"Although," the doctor added, his expression darkening, "there were a few  …  complications."

Ash frowned. "What complications?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you that she lost the baby."

"Baby?" he asked, the doctor's words not making any sense. Melody wasn't having a baby.

The doctor blinked. "I'm sorry, I just assumed you knew that she was pregnant."

Why would Ash even suspect such a thing when the radiation from  childhood cancer had rendered him sterile? It had to be a mistake.  "You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

The only explanation, Ash realized, was that Melody had been cheating on  him. The knot in his gut twisted tighter, making it difficult to take a  full breath. Is that where Melody had been going when she left him? To  be with her lover? The father of her child?

And like a love-sick fool Ash had been chasing after her, prepared to  convince her to come home. She had betrayed him, after all that he had  done for her, and he hadn't suspected a damned thing.

His first reaction was to get up, walk out of the hospital and never  look back, but his body refused to cooperate. He needed to see her, just  one last time. He needed to know why the hell she would do this to him,  when he had given her everything she had ever asked for, everything she  could have ever needed. She could have at least had the decency, and  the courage, to be honest with him.

He could see that the doctor was curious to know why, as her fiancé, Ash  hadn't known about the pregnancy, but Ash didn't feel he owed him or  anyone else an explanation. "How far along was she?" he asked.

"Around fourteen weeks, we think."

"You think? Didn't she say?"

"We haven't mentioned the miscarriage. We think it would be too upsetting at this point in her recovery."

"So she believes she's still pregnant?"

"She has no idea that she was pregnant when she was in the accident."

Ash frowned. That made no sense. "How could she not know?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Williams, but your fiancée has amnesia."

The gripping fingers of a relentless headache squeezed Melody's brain. A  dull, insistent throb, as though a vice was being cranked tighter and  tighter against her skull.

"Time for your pain ameds," her nurse chirped, materializing at the side  of the bed as though Melody had summoned her by sheer will.

Or had she hit the call button? She honestly couldn't remember. Things  were still a bit fuzzy, but the doctor told her that was perfectly  normal. She just needed time for the anesthesia to leave her system.

The nurse held out a small plastic cup of pills and a glass of water. "Can you swallow these for me, hon?"

Yes, she could, she thought, swallowing gingerly, the cool water feeling  good on her scratchy throat. She knew how to swallow pills, and brush  her teeth, and control the television remote. She could use a fork and a  knife and she'd had no trouble reading the gossip rags the nurse had  brought for her.

So why, she wondered, did she not recognize her own name?

She couldn't recall a single thing about her life, not even the auto  accident that was apparently responsible for her current condition. As  for her life before the accident, it was as if someone had reached  inside her head and wiped her memory slate clean.         

     



 

Post-traumatic amnesia, the neurologist called it, and when she'd asked  how long it would last, his answer hadn't been encouraging.

"The brain is a mysterious organ. One we still know so little about,"  he'd told her. "Your condition could last a week, or a month. Or there's  a possibility that it could be permanent. We'll just have to wait and  see."

She didn't want to wait. She wanted answers now. Everyone kept telling  her how lucky she'd been. Other than the head injury, she had escaped  the accident relatively unscathed. A few bumps and bruises mostly. No  broken bones or serious lacerations. No permanent physical scars.  However, as she flipped through the television channels, knowing she  must have favorite programs but seeing only unfamiliar faces, or as she  picked at the food on her meal tray, clueless as to her likes and  dislikes, she didn't feel very lucky. In fact, she felt cursed. As  though God was punishing her for some horrible thing that she couldn't  even remember doing.