“Oh my God.” I press my hands to my face. “Oh my God, what did I do?”
“You married me.”
“You’re my boss.” I’m standing now, pacing. “I’m married to my boss, and I don’t even remember it.”
“Technically, I own Volkov Industries, which owns Kryla Holdings. So yes, I’m your boss.”
I want to laugh. Or cry. Or both. “This is insane. This is—I need to sit down.” I sink back into the chair before my legs give out.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says quietly. “For three weeks. You left while I was sleeping. Left the ring behind. I tore Vegas apart trying to find you, and then I searched every database, every social media platform. You’re good at staying hidden.”
“I’m not hiding. I just don’t post my life online.”
“I noticed.” He leans forward, hands on the table. “Savannah, I remember everything. If you let me, I can help you remember too.”
“I married you on purpose,” I whisper. “I knew I’d forget, and I did it anyway.”
“Yes.”
I look at him. The silver hair. The sharp jaw. The tattoos peeking out from his cuffs. He’s beautiful and dangerous and completely out of my league.
And apparently, he’s my husband.
More fragments surface. Dancing. His hands on my waist. Kissing on a dance floor. A white dress. A ring.
A hotel room.
My face burns. “Did we…did we have sex?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God.”
“It was incredible, if that helps.”
It doesn’t help. Nothing helps. I’m married to a man I don’t remember, working for a company he owns, and my entire life is a disaster.
He stands and moves around the table. When he’s in front of me, he reaches out like he’s going to touch my face.
I jerk back fast. “Don’t.”
He freezes. “Savannah?—”
“Don’t touch me. Please.” I’m shaking now, the panic medication doing nothing to stop the spiral. “I can’t—I can’t handle this. I’m married to you. You’re my boss. I don’t remember any of it. This is a nightmare.”
“It’s not a nightmare.”
“It is for me!” My voice cracks. “Do you know how terrifying this is? To find out you did something this huge and have zero memory of it?”
His expression softens. “I do, actually. I know what it’s like to lose pieces of yourself. To wake up and not know what happened while you were gone.”
“Then you understand why I need you to stay away from me.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my wife.” He says it simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’ve been looking for you for three weeks. I’m not walking away now.”
