1 CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Her name was Olivia, but it wasn’t her real name. She couldn’t remember her own name.  It was the name that was given to her by the nurses who treated her after the car accident that took her memory.  She couldn’t remember anything at all, no matter how hard she tried. She felt lost and adrift, knowing no-one and recognizing nothing.

 

Olivia’s medical care was administered by the Chesapeake Medical Center in Annapolis, Maryland, not far from Washington D.C., or Baltimore Maryland.

 

She spent three months in the hospital and was now ready to go home. But where was home? It could be a trailer park or it might be a mansion. It was the not knowing where she truly belonged that left her so very vulnerable and completely insecure. What she did have was the many new friends that were now looking after her; the nurses who cared for her now rounded together to present her with some clothes and toiletries they put together in a makeshift accessory bag. The paramedics that the nurses so often supported were happy to donate to the cause of Olivia. She almost wept at their kindness. Just before she left she was given the address of a women’s shelter, a card with the name of an eminent psychiatrist on it and the date and time of an appointment. The nurse looked at the card, whistled with a little too much vigor and followed with an even more unsavory call out to those she had treated in the hospital whose memory was lost and tucked away somewhere hidden.

 

“You’re going to see Dr. Mason? Wow! What I wouldn’t give for a session on HIS couch – if you know what I mean!” She winked. “Good luck, love.”

 

The women’s shelter that she now called home was one of those places, which determinedly tried to look like a home away from home but failed dismally. Olivia was given a single bed with a faded duvet on it and the surroundings felt like a crowded dormitory. The other inhabitants looked drab and street-worn, some of them with track marks on their arms, most with bruises and all with the careworn look of those who had lost hope. Beyond greeting each one of them pleasantly, Olivia said nothing, retreating behind a trashy paperback thriller that she found on the one and only bookshelf.

 

“Note to self,” she thought wryly, “first thing tomorrow, join the library!” What she wouldn’t give for a Stephen King novel right then! There was a memory! She felt heartened. Maybe it was the beginning of something.

 

Dinner was tomato soup out of a can, bread and some sort of unidentifiable pasta followed by dark grey coffee, which she couldn't drink. She told herself to be thankful to have a roof over her head and something to eat, but it didn't help much.  Eventually, she fell asleep on the hard narrow bed. She dreamt that night, which was amazing because in the last three months she didn't remember dreaming at all.

 

Someone was chasing her along a dark and dirty street, but she couldn’t see who it was because he was wearing a black hoodie. She had the impression that it was a man, though. She was running as fast as she could but he was catching up. The street seemed to go on for miles but there was a light ahead. There was help there… she knew it instinctively. But she didn’t make it. Her pursuer caught up with her and raised something above his head. It looked like a tire iron and it was heading straight for her – then she woke up with a start, realizing that the noise that awakened her was her very own scream. She sat trembling, covered in icy sweat for what seemed like ages, and then sank back onto the bed again. Strangely, she fell back asleep. Her own fatigue conquered her fear. She slept as soon as her head hit the pillow again.

 

*****

 

 

Dr. Nick Mason leaned back in his chair, rotated his neck and rolled his shoulders back to ease the kinks in his muscles. It had been a long day of listening and advising, wiping up tears and soothing irrational fears. Sometimes he just wanted to run away.

 

There were no dates and no attractive women hanging on his every word anymore and he had very little in the way of a social life. He was the most eligible bachelor in his social circle, but he was still single, for one simple reason. Up till two years ago, he had lived for his profession as a psychiatrist, and then in one single moment his life changed forever. He knew the day. He knew the moment. He relived it at least ten times a day, and he thought of it now with a shudder before pushing it way in the back of his mind where it belonged.

He was exhausted, but before his day could end, there was one more patient for him to see, thank goodness; it was his pro bono case. No jogging or gym tonight; he was prescribing rest for himself – an early bedtime and a good book. Maybe it wasn’t the usual recipe for an exciting evening but for tonight it was perfect. He sighed, and called for the next patient. As the door opened, he froze. The woman who entered was quite simply the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

 

She wasn’t tall; she stood maybe five feet four or five inches tall. She was slim but shapely, with curvy hips and a generous breast line. She had long, wavy auburn hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and even from across his office he could see the amber-green color of her eyes. Her high cheekbones and full, ripe lips made her face strikingly lovely, but everything about her spoke of sadness. In his profession, he was trained to read people, but more than that, he had an innate gift of feeling the nature and character of a soul, he had always read character quickly and assessed the underpinnings of the driving mind. He let his pointed instincts lead him, because they never failed him. He knew that this woman was going to change his life; somehow, he could feel her steering a course toward him.

 

She was neatly dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a red woolen sweater, a denim jacket with clean white sneakers on her feet. She looked almost as helpless as a child and his heart swelled with pity.

 

He stood up and shook hands with her. They were icy cold and trembling.

 

"I'm Dr. Mason," he smiled at her. "You can call me Nick."

 

She nodded and sat down in the chair positioned behind her. He sat across from her and poured her a glass of water, then pushed a box of tissues across the table between them. Her eyes filled with tears, but she let them flow unchecked down her cheeks.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

 

She looked across at him. She was looking into a pair of blazing blue eyes set in a chiseled, high-boned face. He had a long nose, a generous mouth with a dimple right in the center of his chin. His jawline was firm and square, his hair thick, straight and glossed in a blue-black color from the light. He was around six feet two with a well-defined athletic body.

 

“My name is Olivia,” she began haltingly, “…and that’s all I know about anything. I can’t remember my past – any of it. They tell me I was in a car accident but managed to crawl away before the car blew up. I couldn’t remember my name. So, the nurses in the hospital called me Olivia. They asked me what my favorite name was and it’s what popped in my mind, so I went with it.”

 

Nick thought that picking one’s name on the consensus of a few nurses’ opinions was about the saddest thing he’d ever heard, but he withheld comment and waited for her to go on.

 

“Up till three months ago I can’t remember a thing,” she shrugged. “I just don’t have a clue,” she looked up at him helplessly. “I don’t even know how I can pay you. The nurses gave me these clothes and I just don’t know what to do about anything else.”

 

“I’m working pro bono,” he explained. “So don’t worry about me. We’ll sort out the rest soon. Now, about you – tell me what you can remember. Let’s start there.”

 

She shook her head mutely. She wasn’t ready to talk about her dream yet.

 

God, she’s gorgeous, he thought, out of nowhere.

 

He was trying and failing to keep his traitorous body in check. He had a rebellious erection that would not go away. He was trying desperately to keep a professional distance but despite his best efforts he wanted to grab her, hold her down and thrust himself inside her. It was terrifying: he had never felt anything like this before.

 

He chatted to her gently for the rest of the session, trying to calm her and establish a connection between them, which was pretty difficult considering that he felt anything but calm himself. 

 

At last, they both stood up. He held out his hand and gave her his card.

 

“Please call me if you need anything,” he said softly “I’m always available.”

 

“Can – can I ask you something?” She was looking up at him pleadingly, and it was all he could do not to kiss her. He wanted to, quite desperately.

 

“Nobody’s touched me in months. I just want – a hug.”

 

He put his arms around her and pulled her close.  She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. She was so small and fragile. His hands spread over her back, seemed huge. He could feel her heart beating. It was fast, faster than he would have expected. She was still nervous and fearful. She was clutching him tightly as if her life depended on it. When she drew away from him at last, he felt bereft. He had the strangest feeling that he needed her more than she needed him.

 

He heard her make an appointment for the same time the following week, and his heart leaped. He could hardly wait to see her again.

 

He was home now, back inside his spacious apartment with its view over the spreading, brightly lit city. He made himself coffee and went straight to bed. He couldn’t exercise, eat or sleep. She was all he could think about. He lay there with his book, trying to read. After he’d read the same page over three times without taking in a word, he gave up. He became more and more aroused as he thought of that slim body with its curving hips, tiny waist, and generous breasts. He began to touch himself, then held himself tighter, rubbing himself up and down, moaning with pleasure as he imagined her straddling him, her breasts touching his face as she leaned over him. As she went down on him he thrust into her and he climaxed. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he lay, gasping, for a while. It was a long time before sleep claimed him.