“I mean,” he said at last, each word deliberate, “that my memory is entirely gone.”
Diana felt her fingers tighten unconsciously around the folds of her skirt.
“My name, my house, my title,” he continued, his voice lowering slightly. “My own past. I woke with none of it.”
A cold ripple slid down her spine.
“Nothing at all?” she whispered.
Alexander’s expression hardened faintly, frustration stirring beneath the surface of his composure. He exhaled through his nose, as if steadying himself.
“My valet informed me of the particulars of my life a few moments ago,” he went on, his tone edged now with restrained impatience. “Without him, I would not even know that you are my wife.”
The words struck her like a blow. She searched his face desperately, hunting for the smallest flicker of deception, some hint that this was an elaborate cruelty, but his features remained steady.
“Well then… This is a curious predicament,” she mumbled, looking away for a moment.
As she returned her gaze to him, he looked her up and down, then, with raw hunger. His gaze lingered on the exposed curve of her throat, then dropped to the swell of her breasts before returning to her mouth.
“But I can certainly see why I married you, Diana. Looking at you now… it would not be difficult at all to imagine you beneath me, gasping my name.”
The sheer, arrogant carnality of his words sent a jolt of electricity straight down her spine. It was a crude declaration, and yet, her body responded with a liquid thrum of desire that horrified her. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, her lips, her entire skin.
She opened her mouth, a blistering retort perched on her tongue, ready to flay his arrogance, but the heavy oak door of the studio burst open.
“Your Grace! The physician has arrived!” The valet, a man who looked as though he had aged a decade in a week, hurried in, followed by a somber-looking man carrying a black leather bag.
Diana stepped back, pulling her dignity around her like a shroud. The physician introduced himself briefly as Dr. Arbuthnot, gave her a respectful nod, then dismissed her entirely to begin a rigorous examination of the Duke.
Her husband endured it with restless energy, his eyes never truly leaving Diana, even as the doctor checked his pulse and peered into his eyes.
“Physically, His Grace is in remarkable health,” Arbuthnot finally concluded, turning to Diana. “His strength is unimpaired, his reflexes are sharp. However, he has received some trauma to the cranium, and it has resulted in a profound case of memory loss.”
“Is it… permanent?” Diana asked, her fingers twisting the silk of her skirts.
“I cannot say, Your Grace. I have never seen a case quite so… focused.”
The Duke sat on the edge of the desk, his arms folded over his chest, looking every bit the dominant lord of the manor.
“Doctor, I have no intention of being paraded as a curiosity,” he said, his voice hard. “No one outside this room is to know of this… deficient condition.”
“You require stability, Your Grace,” Arbuthnot added, then turned his head to look pointedly at Diana. “Familiar surroundings and people. I suggest he remain here, under your care, Your Grace.”
Diana was almost speechless. “He is to stay? Here? With me?”
The Duke stood up, his height dwarfing the physician. He walked over to Diana, stopping close enough that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest. The cold, distant man who had lefther was gone; in his place was a husband who looked at her with a terrifying, awakened hunger.
“I shall remain in London,” the Duke announced, his voice low and certain, echoing through the studio. “I intend to never spend another moment away from you.”
He reached out, and this time, he didn’t miss. His fingers brushed the line of her jaw, a slow, possessive caress that made her breath catch.
“And until my memory returns,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with a promise that made her heart thunder in her throat, “I intend to begin exactly where I left off.”
CHAPTER 3
“Are you truly going to prune the roses yourself, Your Grace?” Lydia asked.
Diana did not look up from the hedge she had been viciously attacking for the past quarter hour.
