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She gasped, her fingers rising to touch her lips when he retreated almost immediately. ‘Wh-what was that for?’
He shrugged, a rich and fluent movement that was mesmerising and arousing in equal and shocking terms. ‘An experiment. Seeing if I can shake something loose.’
She took a step back. Then several. Pivoting, she headed determinedly for the phone on the bedside table.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Scheduling an appointment with your doctor like we discussed.’
Narrow-eyed displeasure feathered over his face. ‘I didn’t think it would be this soon.’
She paused. ‘You don’t want to be checked out immediately? You have amnesia!’
‘And what is the doctor going to do exactly? Give me a pill that miraculously restores my memories?’
‘I don’t know. That’s the whole point. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Surely you’ll want to know so you’ll know how to start getting better?’
His head canted to one side, a gesture she remembered well. It was a pre-taunt tell. Which should’ve adequately warned her what was coming. It didn’t. ‘Are you that opposed to kissing your husband that you’ll instigate medical intervention to avoid it?’
‘I...what? That’s absurd!’ She shook her head, to get common sense reinstated and the memory of how sizzlingly good his lips had felt on hers out of her mind. ‘This...your health should be our priority. Not...not...’ She stopped, took a deep breath, then cringed when she realised she was blushing.
‘Not discussing why my wife blushes crimson when I so much as look at her legs?’ He shrugged. ‘I’m intrigued by it all, truth be told. And I’d much rather delve into that than...’ His long fingers gestured at his head and he grimaced in distaste and frustration.
Slowly, she returned the receiver to its cradle. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Zeph didn’t want to find out exactly what was wrong with him. Which was absurd. And puzzling.
The ruthless shipping magnate who’d delivered ultimatum after ultimatum, turning a chillingly blind eye to all her pleas for mercy, wouldn’t have hesitated to get to the bottom of why he’d lost ten months of his life.
Ten months.
In which he’d been content to idle his life away on a fishing isle. Perhaps he truly didn’t want to know. But...if he didn’t, where did that leave her?
That softening feeling she’d had when he asked about his age and his parents andtheir childrenstill lingered. While she’d cautioned herself then that it was dangerous to let it, she hadn’t been able to help the swell of empathy. And then yearning. And that way lay her ruin, if she wasn’t careful.
She couldn’t flounder under his mercy for ever.
The three years they’d agreed to remain married was coming up in a little over a year. And come hell or high water, she would stick to her goals.
Pursing her lips, she snatched up the phone again.
CHAPTER THREE
FORTHETHREEhours her husband retreated to his stateroom, Immie remained on tenterhooks, her nerves stretching by the second. Questions and scenarios teemed and tumbled over in her mind.
He’d been without his memories for ten months. What if they never came back? What if it went beyond the three years she’d agreed to stay married to Zeph?
Was amnesia even curable? Or was it a throw of the dice as to what happened, when?
If he didn’t regain his memories soon, would there come a time in the next fifteen months when she’d have to come clean, if only to detach herself from this enforced bond so she could carry on with her plans to take back full autonomy of Callahan Shipping—the company she’d devoted most of her adult life to before Zeph and her father had thrown a marriage of convenience in her way—and reclaim her own life? And if she so chose, would this altered, seemingly considerate,smilingZeph Diamandis stand in her way?
Hadn’t she suffered enough living under the thumbs of powerful men?
Now, watching him stride across the third and largest deck on the yacht towards her, she willed, futilely it turned out, her every nerve ending not to shiver to awareness at the sight of him.
Dear God, had he always been this visually compelling? Or was it the mystery of his disappearance adding to the reluctant allure?
The question disintegrated under the force of his stare as he looked first into her eyes, then down her body with his fierce gaze. Every inch of her body strained against...somethingin his proximity. Until she wanted to scream. To throw herself in the plunge pool in the middle of the deck just to cool off.
‘Kalispera, glikia mou,’he drawled when he reached her.
