Chapter 14

Elspeth

I was still full from the late lunch Pierre had whipped up and the thing I wanted most was to be left alone. Mary had apparently taken up residence in one of the other bedrooms, so I was constantly under surveillance. Everyone was listening, watching, waiting for some innocent slip to prove that I was lying about my memory. I knew that’s what they were looking for. The spy who broke the code would get a prize, and Finn would reward them handsomely. After all, he was royalty, right? He owned this building, this condo, his businesses, and must have many connections in high places. Wasn’t this building with that enormous lake out the window proof of that? Yet, he was the only one I trusted. Why is that? I knew why. He wanted my body, and I’d already shared it with him—twice!

Why had I done that? Was that who I was? A whore who rode men like horses to earn her keep? God, I hoped not, but where was the proof to the contrary? There I was, like a princess in a tower, surrounded by peasants whose livelihood came from waiting on me, literally hand and foot.

I looked down at my pink nails. Now, there was a clue. The manicurist had filed, polished, trimmed cuticles, and painted them. That made it obvious I hadn’t kept them up in what I had now begun to think of as “my former life.” Why was that? My hair had needed trimming. At least the color was natural, as was the arch of my brows and the white of my teeth. I knew my breasts were naturally full—no clue there. I couldn’t have made much of a whore without using some sort of female artifice.

It was as if I had awakened one morning like a complete human being—aware, healthy, apparently educated, opinionated, and well-mannered, but void of that kernel of magic that makes us individuals—a life with memories. Was that a curse, or a blessing? That, in a nutshell, was what I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. That was what the one man who was protecting me from the fates wanted to know the most.

Since my new life had begun, Finn had rescued me from a certain death, kept me warm with his own body—okay so maybe that wasn’t entirely selfless—fed and clothed me, lavished gifts and servants to see to my needs and yet I was put off by this nurturing. Obviously, a normal woman would have eaten it up with a spoon. Why wasn’t I feeling that way? My instincts, now that the crisis had passed, were surfacing. These would tell me who I’d been. These were the markers that couldn’t be faked or driven into submission. These were who I was.

I needed to be myself. As long as I kept up this game with Finn, being a Barbie doll he could dress and bend her legs into whatever position he wanted, I could never find the real me.

There was a tap on the doorway and I looked up to see Finn, his muscular legs spread and his hands on his slim hips. He had a territorial look in his eye, and rightfully so. Everything in his field of vision belonged to him, and that included me.

“Hello,” I greeted him calmly. “Is your work done for the day?”

He traveled the steps between us, bent and kissed me on the forehead and then sat down on the sofa at the opposite end. “It is. How has your day been?”

I knew his words were code for “Have you remembered anything?” I recognized at that moment what was in this for him. I was a challenge, a puzzle, a game. Call it what you will, but Finn Tremaine was motivated by that which he could not have. It wasn’t that he didn’t own me, but that he couldn’t. Of course! It was illustrated all around me. He owned anything he wanted to own, but me—the real me—he could not have because it remained undefined. I was his enigma, and it was making him crazy.

The problem was, it was also making me crazy.

“My day has been busy,” I said, holding out my pink nails for his inspection.

“Very pretty,” he complimented me, and I wondered why. Sure, they were my nails, but the pretty part, he had paid for.

“Have you eaten? I’m sure Pierre would love to make you something. He’s very good at that.” I heard my voice, the almost bitchy tone.

Finn heard it, too, and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t like Pierre?” He leaned closer—his body coiled and ready to spring into action—to banish the horrible Pierre if I shook my head. I felt like the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. One nod from me and the culprits of my dissatisfaction would lose their heads.

“Pierre is wonderfully talented. He’s also very friendly. He’s been asking me questions all afternoon,” I commented, letting him know that I knew Pierre’s role was more than chef.

I could see I’d hit home. Finn had been so busy planting spies, he hadn’t considered that I might notice what he was doing, or worse yet, object. He leaned back, calculating his next move with the consideration of a chess master. “And Mary?” he asked, wanting to know whether she was a game piece still on the board.

“Mary has been very helpful,” I answered, leaving him to wonder whether that was a double entendre.

Whether it was the conversation that pitted our wits against one another or the fact that I felt ungrateful for all he had done for me, I knew this game of cat and mouse was not me. One more aspect of the real me I’d discovered.

“Finn…” I began tentatively, if only because what I was about to say had just popped into my head and I’d had no time to deliberate its merit.

“Yes, Elspeth, is something wrong?”

“Actually, there is. Look, this isn’t right—all you’re doing for me.”

“Stop. It takes no effort,” he said quickly, shutting down what he and I both knew was coming.

I shook my head and sat up straighter to gain a more assertive vantage. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me and I think you’re an incredible man, but I need to go. I need to be on my own.”

“Why?” His question was simple and fully understandable. I was asking myself the same question.

I took the suicide plunge, the one that would lead to my making a feeble protest of independence, even though I knew the odds were stacked against me. I took a stab at it, anyway.

“I think I need to head back to Michigan, to be on my own. I can’t remember where I was going or who I was if I’m not where I lost that memory. There aren’t any clues here.”

He stared, unmoving and silent. I tried to plunge the knife into my chest again. “Finn, it’s obvious that this isn’t the life to which I was accustomed, as they say. Look at me. I was obviously not a pampered princess. Your manicurist had her work cut out for her today. My hair hadn’t been trimmed in some time and my clothes were off the discount store rack. I don’t feel stupid, but I don’t feel educated, either. I think I’m just an average, probably low-income person who was, by fate, given a chance to be more than she’d earned the right to be. You’ve given me that chance, but I can’t take it. I have to leave.”

There. I’d said it. There was no layer of subtlety left, nothing that we could both pretend was unsaid and therefore, not true. I’d laid it out there, and we were both forced to acknowledge it. I didn’t belong here.

Finn regarded me a long moment before he drew in a breath and then leaned forward, taking one of my pretty pink hands in his. “Is it my turn to talk?”

I felt myself blush and nodded.

“That was quite some speech.”

I nodded again.

“Do you feel better now? Having said it?”

I nodded a third time and looked down.

“Look at me, please?”

I raised my eyes to look into his and what I saw there made my heart stop. There was a tear in one corner.

“I’m trying to figure out how to say this without sounding… well, bad or sappy or whatever!” I could tell he was frustrated and felt that was probably not a normal feeling for him.

“First, let me say that what you’ve just said was probably the most honest, selfless thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m not used to that, you know. People meet me and are immediately on the prowl, hoping to come away with some sort of gain. It’s natural. I get it. I’d probably be the same way in their shoes. We’re a country—hell, a world—that worships money. And I have money, Elspeth, lots of it. Far more than what you see around you. But, that’s beside the point. Well, then again, maybe it isn’t.”

I wrinkled my forehead, surprised, and waiting for his explanation. I had to agree with him on one point—this was a very honest conversation.

He went on, “Okay, so I have everything a human could want. But, I don’t have everything a man could want. I don’t have that woman who challenges him, dares him to be better and maybe most of all, doesn’t give a shit about his money or who he knows. In short, unless I’m way off base, I don’t have someone like you.”

He let the words lie between us, taking on texture and a voluminous cloud of their own.

“Look… it doesn’t matter to me whether you had manicured nails, salon hair, or if I found you in silk and fur. In fact, I would have been far less impressed if I had. Maybe a little more curious, but certainly not impressed. There is something unique about you, and I’m not talking about the amnesia. I’m talking about your essence. You are pure and honest, and that doesn’t change whether you lose your memory. It’s instinctual—a part of your personal fabric. You are, in short, exactly what I have never found. You are genuine.”

I heard him and a part of me understood. I still had reservations about who I really was. Could I be genuine and still be a bank robber, I wondered? Nah, probably not.

He wasn’t done with his speech, and I suspected his was more rehearsed than mine had been. It had to be. It sounded better and was flattering to hear. “I understand your reluctance to be here. Yes, you’re right, I’ve surrounded you with people to watch and listen. You can’t really blame me for that, can you?”

“No, I suppose not. I’d do the same thing if a stranger was in my house… assuming I could afford a nurse, a chef, and a manicurist.”

“Don’t forget the doctor.”

I laughed and nodded. “Yes, and the doctor.”

“My point is this. We both know what’s going on here. You know I’m interested in you—the you who is sitting beside me right now. I get that you don’t want to take on a role for my pleasure, and believe it or not, I don’t want you to do that, either. That flies in the face of what I like the best about you. So, here’s what I propose. Don’t leave. Don’t work against me. Stay. Tomorrow there’s a shrink coming to talk with you. Maybe he can help you remember. If he can, and you don’t like what you remember, we’ll deal with that then. If you don’t, then as long as we both understand what we’re doing, there’s no harm in your staying with me. Not here. We’re going to my lake house on Friday night. You’ll probably like it there more than here. It’s private and quiet. I won’t bring anyone along, unless you want someone. Otherwise, we’ll look after ourselves. I won’t pressure you. We’ll have separate rooms, unless you want otherwise. But let me take you there. Let me give you a safe place where you can rediscover yourself, no matter how far back that discovery goes. I don’t want you to be alone if it all comes flooding back. That could be very traumatic. Have you considered that?”

I had to admit, I hadn’t. That was like asking a child if they’d considered a tummy ache before they ate too much chocolate cake. I was on auto-pilot. I shook my head and said nothing, waiting for him to make sense of our situation, so that I wouldn’t have to.

“Would it be so horrible? You’ll be free to come and go. I’ll even make sure you have a car available and cash. You can leave any time you like. But consider that maybe, just maybe, you won’t want to leave. Maybe we’ll find out that in a strange way, we need each other. You have nowhere to be right now, and I have the ability to be anywhere I want to. I choose to be with you. What do you say?”

I’d listened as he made his case and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t come up with anything negative to think about it. He was being extremely understanding and generous. He was also right. If I woke up one morning and the memories were all there, would I be prepared to deal with them? Here he was, literally offering to be my safety net and asking nothing in return. How could I turn that down?

I pulled my knees beneath me and propelled myself against him, throwing my arms around his neck. I kissed him on the cheek and whispered into his ear, “Yes. Thank you. You get it. No promises, right?”

He nodded and smiled. He’d won. “No promises, no leash, and no regrets.”

I couldn’t ask for anything more than that, except maybe one thing. “Can we leave the ice queen and the guy with the cleaver behind?”

He laughed aloud and kissed me, hard, on the lips. I knew that was a yes.