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Billionaire's Contract Engagement(36)

By:Maya Banks


Of course, one quick thwack with the ax and it would easily be his again.

She cringed and chastised herself for the gruesome thought.

"Maybe you should hang on to it for now, just to be safe," she told him.

"No. I don't care if you believe me or not." He rose from his chair and  reached for her hand, and it took everything in her not to flinch. "This  belongs to you."

The ring slid with ease on her finger. A perfect fit. Could it just be a  coincidence? It was becoming increasingly difficult not to believe him.

"I have these, too," he said, leaning down to take a stack of photos  from the inside of his jacket. He gave them to her, then sat back down.

The pictures were indeed of her and this Asher person. She skimmed them,  and in each and every one they were either smiling or laughing or  …  oh,  my  …  some were rather racy in nature.

Her cheeks blushed brightly and a grin quirked up the corner of his  mouth. "I included a few from our personal collection, so there wouldn't  be any doubt."

In one of the shots Asher wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and  the sight of all that lean muscle and smooth skin caused an unexpected  jab of longing that she felt deep inside her belly. A memory, maybe, or  just a natural female reaction to the sight of an attractive man.

"I have video, as well," he said. She was going to ask what kind of  video, but his expression said it all. The look in his eyes was so  steamy it nearly melted her. "Due to their scandalous nature, I felt it  best to leave them at home," he added.

Melody couldn't imagine she was the type of woman who would let herself  be photographed, or even worse videotaped, in a compromising position  with a man she didn't trust completely.

Maybe Asher Williams really was her fiancé.

Ash's first suspicion, when the doctor told him Melody had amnesia, was  that she was faking it. But then he asked himself, why would she? What  logical reason did she have to pretend that she didn't know him?  Besides, he doubted that anyone in her physical condition could  convincingly fabricate the look of bewildered shock she wore when the  doctor told her Ash was her fiancé.

Of course, she had managed to keep the baby she was carrying a secret,  and the affair she'd been having. After the initial shock of her  betrayal had worn off, he'd felt nothing but seething, bone-deep anger.  After all he had done for her-paying her living expenses and college  tuition, giving her credit cards to purchase everything her greedy heart  had desired, taking care of her for three years-how could she so  callously betray him?

Coincidentally, just like his ex-wife. He hadn't had a clue then either.  One would think he'd have learned his lesson the first time. And though  his first instinct had been to walk out the door and never look back,  he'd had an even better idea.

This time he would get revenge.

He would keep up the ruse of their engagement and take Melody home. He  would make her fall in love with him, depend on him, then he would  betray her, just as cold-heartedly and callously as she had him. And he  wouldn't lose a single night's sleep over it.

"What was I doing in Texas alone?" Melody asked him, still not totally convinced.

Ash had anticipated this question and had an answer already prepared. "A research trip."

"Research for what?"

"A paper you were working on for school."

She looked puzzled. "I go to school?"

"You're in law school."

"I am?" she asked, looking stunned.

"You have a year to go before you take the bar exam."

Her brow furrowed and she reached up to rub her temple. "Not if I can't remember anything I've learned."

"I don't care what the doctors say," he told her, taking her hand, and  this time she didn't flinch. "You'll get your memory back."

Her grateful smile almost filled him with guilt. Almost.

"So you just let me go on this trip, no questions asked?"

He gave her hand a squeeze. "I trust you, Mel."

The comment hit its mark, and the really pathetic thing was that it used  to be true. He never would have guessed that Melody would do something  like this to him.

"How long was I gone?"

"A few weeks," he lied. "I began to worry when you stopped answering  your phone. I tried to find you myself, but that went nowhere fast. I  was beside myself with worry, Mel. I thought something terrible had  happened. I thought  …  I thought that you were dead. That I would never  see you again." The fabricated emotion in his voice sounded genuine,  even to his own ears, and Melody was eating it up. "The police were no  help, so I hired a private detective."         

     



 

"And here you are."

He nodded. "Here I am. And I would really like to hold my fiancée. If she would let me."

Melody bit her lip, and with gratitude in her eyes, held her arms out.  She bought his bull-hook, line and sinker. This was almost too easy.

Ash rose from his chair and sat on the edge of her bed, and when he took  her in his arms and she melted against him, soft and warm and a little  fragile, he had a flash of something that felt like relief, or maybe  satisfaction, then he reminded himself exactly what it was that brought  them to this place. How deeply she had betrayed him. His first instinct  was to push her away, but he had to play the role of the loving fiancé.

She let her head rest on his shoulder and her arms slipped around his  back. The contour of her body felt so familiar to him, and he couldn't  help wondering what it must have been like for her, holding a stranger.  Some deep place inside him wanted to feel sympathy, but she had brought  this on herself. If she hadn't cheated on him, hadn't stolen away like a  criminal, she never would have been in the accident and everything  would be normal.

As her arms tightened around him, he did notice that she felt frailer  than before, as though not only had she lost pounds, but muscle mass.  Their building had an exercise room and as long as Ash had known her,  Melody had been almost fanatical about staying in shape. He wondered if  this would be a blow to her ego.

But how could it be if she didn't even remember she had an ego? Or maybe that was something that was inborn.

Under the circumstances Ash didn't expect the embrace to last long, and  he kept waiting for her to pull away. Instead she moved closer, held him  tighter, and after a moment he realized that she was trembling.

"Are you okay?" he asked, lifting a hand to stroke her hair.

"I'm scared," she said, her voice small and soft. Melody wasn't a  crier-in three years together he could recall only two times he'd even  seen the sheen of moisture in her eyes-but he could swear that now he  heard tears in her voice.

"What are you scared of?" he asked, stroking her hair and her back,  pretending to comfort her, when in reality he felt that she was getting  exactly what she deserved.

"Everything," she said. "I'm afraid of all I don't know, and everything I  need to learn. What if I'm never." She shook her head against his  chest.

He held her away from him, so he could see her face. Melody was a  fighter. Much like himself, when she wanted something, she went after it  with all pistons firing. It was what had drawn him to her in the first  place. But right now, he couldn't recall ever seeing her look more pale  and distraught, and he actually had to harden his heart to keep from  feeling sorry for her.

She had brought this on herself.

"If you never what?" he asked.

Her eyes were full of uncertainty. "What if I can't be the person I was  before? What if the accident changed me? What will I do with my life?  Who will I be?"

Not the heartless betrayer she had been before the accident. Not if he  had anything to do with it. He would break her spirit, so no other man  would have to suffer the same humiliation he had.

A tear spilled over onto her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb,  cradling her cheek in his palm. "Why don't you concentrate on getting  better? Everything will work out. I promise."

Looking as though she desperately wanted to believe him, she leaned her  head back down and sighed against his shoulder. And maybe she did  believe him, because she was no longer shaking.

"I'm getting sleepy," she said.

"I'm not surprised. You've had an eventful morning. Why don't you lie down?"

He helped her lie back against the pillows. She did look exhausted. Mentally and physically.

He pulled the covers up and tucked them around her, much the way his  mother had for him when he was a boy. When he'd been sick, and weakened  by the radiation, she'd somehow managed to be there every evening to  kiss him goodnight, despite working two, and sometimes three jobs at a  time to keep their heads above water. Until she'd literally worked  herself to death.

Though Ash was declared cancer free by his thirteenth birthday, the  medical bills had mounted. His father had been too lazy and most times  too drunk to hold down a job, so the responsibility of taking care of  them had fallen solely on his mother. And due to their debt, annual  trips to the doctor for preventative care that wasn't covered by their  insurance had been a luxury she couldn't afford. By the time she'd begun  getting symptoms and the cancer was discovered, it had already  metastasized and spread to most of her major organs. The news had sent  his father into a downward spiral, and it was left up to Ash to take  care of her.