CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Twelve more days. Where before Colette couldn’t wait for the days to count down, she now found herself wishing each day would last forever.
No longer able to fool herself, she knew she had fallen in love with Hank. And she couldn’t help but believe that Hank had feelings for her, as well. Although he didn’t say anything, continued to hold on to his silly rules of no commitment, no promises, Colette saw promises in his eyes each time they made love. She’d tasted unspoken promises on his lips as they kissed. She didn’t know exactly what the future held, but she wanted Hank to be a part of hers.
She stretched languidly against the cotton sheets, knowing she should get up, but reluctant to leave the cocoon of the sheets that still held the residual scent of Hank’s cologne.
She knew Hank was probably already up. Although he’d remained in her room making love to her into the night, he’d slept alone in the second bedroom. She’d discovered he was a man who required little sleep, but had voracious appetites in all other areas.She smiled, her body still tingling with remembered sensations of his caresses.
They’d spent the day yesterday playing cards to pass the time. Unsurprisingly, she’d found him to be fiercely competitive. During the card games, he’d relaxed enough to talk, telling her stories of his youth that only deepened her feelings for him. He’d spoken of growing up a wild child who communed with horses and hunted pretend criminals with a wooden gun. He spoke lovingly of his mother, his eyes dark with pain when he talked of her death.
Colette got out of bed, suddenly eager to spend every minute of the day with him. She showered and dressed quickly, then seeing that Brook was still sleeping, she went into the kitchen.
Hank sat at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked up as she entered. “I spoke to the boss a little while ago. They’re sending out a doctor to talk to you this morning.”
“A doctor?” She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. “To try to get my memory back?”
He nodded and eyed her intently. “Scared?”
“A little.” She smiled gratefully as he reached out and touched her hand reassuringly. “I keep thinking there’s something bad in my memory…something besides the murder.”
He pulled his hand back and looked down into his coffee. “Whatever it is, it’s possible you’ll know soon.” He reared back in his chair, his eyes dark and enigmatic. “Before long this will all be behind you, nothing but a distant memory. You’ll go back to your life and find some nice man to marry.”
“Hank…”
“Don’t, Colette.” The front legs of his chair hit the floor and he held up a hand, as if he knew the words of love she wanted to blurt, those that burned to be said. “You know my rules. We’ve managed to make it through a lot together, and found an enjoyable way to pass the time.”
“An enjoyable way to pass the time?” Colette’s heart ached. She’d thought…she’d hoped…had she been so mistaken? No, she hadn’t imagined the tenderness in his gaze, the love that had flowed from him in unguarded moments.
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe that’s all it was for you. There’s more between us than that. I’m in your heart, Hank.”
He smiled, not a pleasant one, his eyes as cold as death. “That’s impossible, my sweet little coquette. It’s impossible because I don’t have a heart.” He stood. “I’m going to watch the news.” He disappeared into the living room and a moment later the sound of the portable television filled the house.
Colette remained at the table, her heart aching with his words. Funny, even this particular heart pain seemed familiar. Was it possible she’d experienced this same kind of thing with Brook’s father? Had she mistaken lust for love and he’d rejected her? Had she been a naive little fool not only with Hank, but with another man, as well?
She drew in a weary breath. Hopefully she’d have all the answers soon. Hopefully the doctor would be able to retrieve not only the memories the prosecution needed to put away Collier, but also the personal memories she needed to know.
She was working on her second cup of coffee when Hank stuck his head through the doorway. “The doctor is here,” he said.
Fear mingled with anticipation. She stood and smoothed her hands down the side of her sweatpants, nervous, scared…anxious of the answers she might receive, not only about the crime, but about the kind of woman she was. Taking a deep breath, she left the kitchen.
The doctor was a burly man with glasses that couldn’t hide his piercing, cold blue eyes. He shook Colette’s hand, introducing himself as Dr. Wallace, then turned and looked at Hank. “Perhaps you could get a breath of fresh air or take a walk. A patient generally relaxes more easily if it’s only the two of us working together.” Hank hesitated and Dr. Wallace smiled. “I’m a cop first, a therapist second.” He patted a bulge beneath his coat jacket. “She’ll be fine with me.”
Hank hesitated a long moment, then nodded and disappeared out the front door. Dr. Wallace turned to Colette and smiled, a gesture that did nothing to alleviate the cold harshness of his eyes. “Now, my dear, if you’ll have a seat right there on the sofa, we’ll get started.”
Colette sank down onto the sofa, her heart thudding with anxiety. “Are you going to hypnotize me?”
“No, my dear.” Dr. Wallace eased down into the chair across from where she sat. “At least not right now. For the moment we’re just going to talk.” He crossed his legs and pulled a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “Now, tell me any memoriesyou have about working at Cameron Collier’s law firm.”
“I don’t have any.”
Dr. Wallace frowned at her. “Close your eyes and think for a moment…the memories are there in your head, all you have to do is retrieve them.”
Dutifully Colette closed her eyes, wanting desperately to remember something, anything. She frowned, searching, digging, trying to pierce the black shroud that fogged her mind. Nothing. She opened her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything. But I’ve had some dreams,” she offered.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
It didn’t take long for her to relay what little information her recurring dream contained. “I know it’s not much,” she finished.
