CHAPTER 4

          Marry him? ‘Yes!’ Calleigh thought in a daze, looking up into his handsome face. Feeling his strong, rough hands against the softness of her skin, the warmth of his touch seared her, tracing down her neck to her breasts and lower still.

          How could any man be so masculine, so beautiful, so powerful all at once? So perfect? Gabriel was everything her tore, empty, frightened soul had desired. He would protect her. Love her. He would complete her life.

          ‘Yes, I will!’

          But even as the words rose to her lips, something stopped her. Something she couldn’t understand made her pull her face away from his touch.

“Marry you?” she whispered.

          Calleigh searched his dark eyes, her heartbeat quickening in her chest.

“I don’t even know you.”

          He blinked. She saw that Gabriel was surprised. Then his eyebrows lowered into a frown.

“You knew me well enough to conceive my child.”

          She swallowed hard.

“But I can’t remember you,” she replied. “It wouldn’t be right to take you as my husband.”

“I was raised without a father. I don’t intend to be a weekend father or an absentee one. I will give our baby a name. Don’t take this from me,” Gabriel said in one breath.

          Take this from him? How could any woman take away something from a man like Gabriel De León? Still, it didn’t feel right. With a deep breath, she turned away, glancing out at the passing scenery.

          It had changed since they’d left the outskirts of London, become soft and green beyond the rain-splattered windows. Trees had started to turn orange and yellow, rich autumnal colors between the green.

“Callie…”

          That name… She looked back at Gabriel. He was so darkly handsome and powerful, and at the moment his sensual mouth was pressed into a hard line. He was clearly determined to have his way. But something inside her made her resist him.

“Thank you for asking me to marry you,” she said awkwardly. “It was so nice of you. But my baby won’t be born for months…”

“Our baby,” Gabriel corrected her.

“Even so, I can’t be your wife when I can’t even remember you.”

“We’ll see,” he said softly.

          Silence fell on their drive as she watched the passing scenery. Finally, the car turned off the road to a smaller lane. She saw a redbrick Georgian mansion at the base of tree-covered hills, reflected in a wide gray lake.

“Is that my stepfather’s house?” Calleigh breathed in shock.

“Yes.”

          The car drove up the long lane through the park and woodlands then stopped in front of the entrance. As Gabriel opened the door and helped her from the car, Calleigh looked up with an intake of breath. Holding her hand over her eyes to block out the noon sunlight that had finally penetrated the clouds, she looked back at him.

“I lived here as a teenager?”

“And now it’s yours, along with a vast fortune.”

          Calleigh looked at him sharply.

“How do you know?”

“You knew it yourself yesterday when you attended the reading of the will.”

“Still, how do you know?” she insisted.

          Gabriel shrugged.

“I’ll make sure you get a copy of the will. Come now…”

          Taking her hand, Gabriel escorted her past the grand sweep of the front door. Inside the foyer, five servants waited to greet her, headed by the housekeeper.

“Oh, Miss Swanson,” the plump woman sniffed into her apron. “Your stepfather loved you so much. He would be so glad to see you’ve finally come home!”

          ‘Home?’ But it wasn’t her home. Apparently, she’d barely set foot in this place for years! But looking at the elderly housekeeper’s sad face, Calleigh felt a sympathetic pang. She put an arm around her.

“He was a good man, wasn’t he?” she said softly.

“Yes, Miss Swanson. The best. And he loved you as his own child. Even though you weren’t,” she added, wiping her eyes. “He’d be so happy you’ve finally come back after so long.”

          Calleigh paused delicately.

“Has it been so…?”

“Six, no, seven years. Mr. Swanson always invited you back for Christmas, but…”

          Her voice trailed off as she wiped tears with her apron.

“But I never came…” Calleigh added.

          The older woman shook her head wistfully. Calleigh swallowed. Apparently, she’d taken her stepfather’s money and let him pay her bills as she shopped and partied her way around the world, but hadn’t even had the grace to return for an occasional visit! And now he was dead.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered over the lump in her throat.

“Let me take you to your room. You’ll find it’s just as you left it last.”

          Shortly afterward, the quietly sobbing housekeeper left them in Calleigh’s old bedroom. In the darkness, with Gabriel behind her in the only light of the double doorway, Calleigh yanked back the black curtains, filling the room with gray light.

          Turning back to get a good look at her room, she choked back a gasp of dismay. Everything was red and black, down to the king-sized black bed. Dramatic. Modern. Sexy. Brassy.

          Gabriel leaned against the door frame as Calleigh looked through the room, desperate for something, anything that would tell her what she needed to know. She opened closet doors, running her hands idly over the designer clothes that hung there. The clothes were like the room, sexy and dramatic. Powerful clothes for a woman who desired attention and knew how to wield it.

          Calleigh shivered. She pulled open the shelves, touching each item lightly with her hands. Black stiletto heels… a Gucci handbag… a Louis Vuitton suitcase. Finding her passport, she thumbed through it, searching for answers that weren’t there. Zanzibar? Mumbai? Rio?

“You weren’t kidding,” she said slowly. “I do travel constantly. Especially for the last three months.”

          When he didn’t reply, Calleigh turned back to face him. His face seemed carefully expressionless.

“Yes,” was all Gabriel said. “I know.”

          She tossed the passport into her suitcase with the sexy clothes and shoes as if they belonged to someone else. Leaning against the modern black four-poster bed, she looked around her with a heavy sigh.

“There’s nothing here…”

“I told you, Calleigh.”

          Desolately, she went to the bookshelf. It held only faded fashion magazines, years out of date, and a few slender volumes on etiquette and charm. She picked up the book on top, a splashy pop-culture book, and read the title out loud in dismay.

“‘How to Get Your Man?’ Really?”

“That’s never been your problem, querida.”

          There was a distinct sarcasm in his tone. Her heart was breaking, and he was making jokes? She made a huffing sound and chucked the book in his general direction. He caught it midair.

“Let it be, Calleigh,” he said evenly. “None of this matter.”

“Well… It does matter. These things tell me who I am!”

          She jabbed her finger toward the closet.

“I’ve just found out I was the kind of girl who only cared about her looks, who ignored a stepfather who loved me, and who never bothered to come home for Christmas.”

          Tears rushed into her eyes.

“And I let him die alone,” Calleigh whispered. “How could I have been so cruel to him?”

          Inconsolably, she picked up a dusty photo in a gilded frame. She saw the image of a man giving a cheeky wink, his arm around a beautiful dark-haired woman who was laughing with joy. Between them was a plump little girl with a big beaming smile and two missing front teeth.

          She stared at the adults in the photo for a very long time, but no memories came back to her. They had to be her parents, but she couldn’t remember them. Was she really that heartless? Did she truly have no soul?

“What did you find?”

“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t help.”

          Calleigh threw the photograph across the room, where it bounced softly against her bed. She covered her face with her hands.

“Why can’t I remember them? Or you?”

          Crossing the bedroom in three long strides, Gabriel took her by the shoulders.

“I barely knew my parents, but it hasn’t hurt me.”

“It’s not just the past, Gabriel,” she whispered. “It’s all this…” she whispered pointing at everything around her. “You shouldn’t want to marry a soulless, heartless person like me… Or want to be around me…”

          Gabriel didn’t answer.

“I can’t tell him how sorry I am,” she said over the lump in her throat. “I’ve lost my only family. I have no home.”

“Your home is with me, querida,” Gabriel said in a low voice.

          She looked up at him. The sunlight from the tall windows gently caressed his face, illuminating floating dust motes like tiny stars all around them in the red-and-black bedroom.

“Let me show you.”

          He slowly stroked up her bare arms, his fingers light against her skin.

“Marry me, cariño.”

          Electricity spread up her arms and down her body. She fought the urge to step closer to him, to press her body against his chest.  

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Why?” he growled.

“Because I don’t want you to marry me out of pity!”

          His hands suddenly moved around her, caressing her back through her dress, causing the black silk to slide deliciously over her body with his featherlight touch.

“Pity is the last thing I feel for you.”

          Calleigh closed her eyes, leaning forward, wanting more of his touch. Wanting to feel his warmth. His heat. Gabriel pulled her more deeply into his arms. She felt the scent of him, the heat of his body through his clothes.

“Come away with me,” he whispered into her hair. “Come to Marbella and be my bride.”

          She felt the hardness of his body against hers, the strength of his arms around her. He was so much taller and powerful than she was. His hands ran softly along the edges of her hips, up the length of her back as her breasts crushed against his chest.

          Calleigh swallowed, trembling. She licked her lips, moving her cheek against his shirt as she looked up at him.

“I can’t just run away,” she sighed. “I need my memory back, Gabriel. I can’t just walk this world not knowing who I am. I can’t marry a virtual stranger, even if you’re the father of my child…”

“So, I’ll take you to the place where we first met. To where we began.”

          She felt his dark gaze fall upon her mouth as he added slowly.

“I’ll show you the place where I first kissed you.”

          Her bones turned to liquid. Calleigh looked up at him, her heart pounding as she licked her lips involuntarily.

“Where is that?”

          His eyes were hot and dark.

“In Venice.”

“Venice,” she repeated, and the word was a wistful sigh.

          Calleigh looked up at him with yearning, knowing she should refuse. Knowing she should stay in London and see the specialist Dr. Levi had recommended. But her refusal caught in her throat. Caught by her romantic dreams. Caught by him.

          Gabriel reached down to stroke her tender bottom lip with his thumb, caressing her face with his powerful hands.

“Come to Venice, cariño,” he said darkly. “I will show you everything.”

          He cupped her face with both hands, holding her hard against his body as he looked down at her, commanding her with his gaze.

“And then,” Gabriel whispered, “you will marry me.”