“We’ve been discussing your marriage to Bridget Smirnoff,” Roscoe said.
“Hinky,” Mikhail muttered.
He had that right.
“When did you get married to Bridget?”Edwina asked, and every word was a knife to her heart.They weren’t married.They couldn’t be.She knew this, yet apprehension slid through her.
Mikhail’s brow furrowed, but neither she nor Roscoe pushed him to hurry his answer.Mikhail was obviously in pain and having trouble stitching his thoughts together.
Edwina made a mental note to ask the healer about a sleeping draft—something natural that hopefully wouldn’t react with the drugs Smirnoff had pumped into him.
“Bridget?Dunno.”Mikhail slumped in his chair, his face almost colliding with the wooden desktop.
“You need to rest,” Edwina said, standing in her concern.
“No.No!Answers,” Mikhail said.
“You want answers about what?”Roscoe asked.
Mikhail grimaced and ran an unsteady hand over his head.The tugging of his fingers disordered his hair, and he no longer resembled her well-groomed husband.He appeared vulnerable, and her heart twisted at his obvious pain.
“Uh.”Mikhail lifted his right hand, flashing an unhelpful gesture.“Not right,” he said finally.
“Let’s get you back to bed.Roscoe and I will find answers for you.Right now, your job is to sleep and heal.”
“Heal?”His focus was absolute, as if this was the only information he could trust.
“Yes, sleep is an excellent healer,” Edwina said.“You must sleep at least for an hour.I’ll come to check on you and bring you something to eat.How does that sound?”
Mikhail’s frown didn’t reduce, and frustration rose off him in palpable waves.
In the end, Roscoe had to help her get Mikhail back to his room.
“I’ll get you more water,” she said, noting the empty glass.Liquids might help to flush the drug from his system.“Here, drink this.”
After he drank the water, she refilled the glass again.
“Need answers,” Mikhail insisted.“Girl with green eyes, help.”
Edwina stilled, her hope rising.Had he remembered what they were to each other?“I promise Roscoe and I will help you learn the truth.Your job is to rest and sleep.”She hoped Mikhail understood because he seemed confused.She’d expected the longer he went without the drug, the better his memory would become, but that wasn’t happening.
“If you need one of us, we’ll be around.All you need to do is shout, and someone will come,” Roscoe said.
“I’ll check in on you in an hour.”Edwina infused cheerfulness into her voice when the emotion had packed up and gone on holiday.The situation bore an irony that wasn’t lost on her.She hadn’t wanted marriage, and Mikhail had wished to wed her merely as a smokescreen.Now she was fighting for their relationship, and Mikhail had no clue.
The phone summoned Roscoe, and he headed to his office while Edwina hovered until Mikhail dropped off to sleep.She finally crept from the room and searched for a cup of tea.She’d barely taken her first sip when Ivan called.
“Sasha has left.I had to fill her in on part of the story.I informed her Mikhail’s grandfather had enticed Mikhail to meet with Smirnoff.Then, I told her we were still piecing together the rest but didn’t believe Mikhail had married Bridget.”Ivan paused long enough for Edwina to slip in a question.
“Do you think she believed you?And what about Mikhail’s grandmother?She helped to engineer my meeting with Mikhail.”
“I don’t think Sasha knew.You donotwant to see Mikhail’s mother in a temper.”
“How did you get her to leave?”
“I told her Smirnoff wants Mikhail to run his business, so her son was safe for now.”
“The Smirnoff family is offering a reward for information leading to Mikhail’s return.”
