She’s desperate to remember…and he’s desperate to forget.

The Renaldis, Book 3
As one of the heads of his family’s well-respected fashion house, Vincenzo Renaldi is used to

living life at light speed. His relationship with Amber, a successful model, was the definition of “jet-
set”, from whirlwind romance to quickie wedding. Now, at the rate these two workaholics are going,
they may as well live in two different worlds.

Determined to recapture the magic that drew them together, Vince flies to New York to confront his

wife. And only succeeds in chasing her away—straight into the path of a moving car.

When Amber awakens in the hospital, she’s overjoyed to see her husband by her side. Yet there’s

something behind the relief in his tired eyes. And something behind his determination to treat her like
a queen. Something that lurks just beyond the shadows of her missing memories.

And when the truth re-emerges, the pain could be a sign of healing…or the final straw that tears

them apart once and for all.

Warning: The last of the Renaldi brothers finally gets his story. Which means a hot and possessive

Italian man is on the menu, determined to show his beautiful wife just how much he loves her. In
every sizzling, sexy way he can.

Falling for Her Husband

Karen Erickson

Dedication

To all the readers who’ve been patiently waiting for Vince Renaldi’s story, thank you. I couldn’t

do this without you!

Chapter One

Once upon a time there was a woman who fell madly in love. She met the man who would quickly

become her husband, and she knew without doubt that he was the man for her. He would be the only
man for her.

She married him in a brief ceremony at City Hall in downtown Manhattan. No fanfare, no party, no

gorgeous fairytale gown. Just her and him and the official who declared them man and wife and a few
witnesses.

It had been a beautiful, magical courtship. A whirlwind that still made her head spin when she

thought about it. How sweet he’d been, how attentive. She loved the way he smiled at her, spoke to
her in that low, slightly accented, sexy voice of his, all of the tumultuous emotions he felt for her
shining in his dark brown eyes.

She knew then she was incredibly lucky to have found the attention of such a man.
Now, though? Sometimes, late at night, when she was all alone, usually in the hushed quiet of yet

another nondescript hotel room in some unknown, glamorous city that was glamorous for everyone but
her, she had an overwhelming feeling of deep, confusing…

Regret.
Amber Hall Renaldi sat in an airplane at this very moment, jetting from yet another foreign

location, but now on the return flight to New York. Her sort of newly adopted hometown, though she
had no place of her own to live.

Well, that was a lie. Her husband kept an apartment in the city, but she refused to stay there as of

late. And there was her husband’s home in Milan, Italy, but she hadn’t been there in months.

She hadn’t seen her husband in months either. And she missed him terribly.
Along with missing him came the avalanche of regret again. Regret she hated to linger over. She

was young. In her early twenties and with a modeling career that had kept her busy, focused and
making consistent money since she was fifteen years old. She’d done a lot, seen a lot and was in many
ways a jaded, tired soul.

Overdramatic, but true.
“Why you looking so blue, love?” Her agent Debbie Kaye nudged Amber’s side with a gentle

elbow. “If you keep frowning like that your mouth will never smile again.”

Amber couldn’t help but let a smile break out on her face at Debbie’s words. “That’s one of the

oldest lies in the book.”

“How about this? You keep up that frown and you’ll have wrinkles on your face.” Debbie tapped

Amber’s shoulder. “You know that’s true.”

A sigh escaped Amber and she shook her head, kept her eyes focused on the tiny window she sat

beside, but all she could see was the fluffy white clouds the plane was currently flying through. “I
need to make a few important decisions soon. And I’m not looking forward to what might happen.”

“Are you talking about your husband?”
Amber turned to meet Debbie’s steady gaze. How did she know? Of course, Amber shouldn’t

question anything Debbie knew. The woman had to be psychic. She could figure out anyone’s moods
to such accuracy it was almost scary. Though there were other things she was considering as well…
such as her career. “Yes.”

Debbie nodded once. “You’ll do the right thing.”

“How do you know? How can you just…say that when I haven’t done a damn thing yet?” Worry

clawed at Amber’s throat, making it hard to breathe. She knew she needed to speak with Vince and
express her concerns, but both of them were so busy, it was hard to make that connection. To make the
time.

Of course, he was her husband and she was his wife. If they really cared about each other, they

would find a way to make the time. That they hadn’t, Amber couldn’t help but take as a sign.

“You’re not a stupid girl.” Debbie leaned her shoulder against Amber’s in a reassuring gesture.

“You’ve always made really smart decisions.”

“When it comes to business,” Amber retorted. When it came to her love life, though? She’d always

been what one would call…impulsive. Her mother used to give her endless grief about it. She knew
her parents had waited breathlessly for her to finally come clean and admit some jerk had gotten her
pregnant. But she never had, thank goodness.

She’d been on a constant search for love since she was in her early teens. She’d wanted it but

could never find it with the right guy. Being young and foolish and with way more freedom than any
teenage girl should’ve ever had, she’d gone from one guy to the next, all of them older, every one of
them trying their best to keep her, but they didn’t make her happy. They didn’t fulfill her like she was
looking for.

Until Vince. He’d swept her off her feet with promises of love and a partnership. He vowed he

would take care of her and said and did all the right things. The passionate sex between them couldn’t
be denied. He gave her so many orgasms she swore she was addicted to him, as if he were the most
consuming drug. She’d believed him to be the perfect man for her.

Amber still wanted to believe Vince was the perfect man for her. But she was finally coming to

realize that maybe…that wasn’t the case. She had an obligation to her family still. They needed her
money and she didn’t want them to be Vince’s burden. She loved him, but her family came first.

They always would.
“So you tend to rush into your relationships, so what? Who can hold that against you when you live

like you do?” Debbie said.

“How do I live?” Amber asked, confused.
“Balls to the wall.” At Amber’s colored cheeks and mortified squawk of protest, Debbie laughed.

“I’m serious! I’ve never seen someone as brave as you. You do whatever you want, whenever you
want. So many of the girls admire you, Amber. As do I.”

Amber’s cheeks heated further. She figured the girls—the other models at her agency—all looked

up to her because she was one of the older ones and had been in the business so long. “I don’t like
living life with regrets,” she said simply, shrugging. It had always been her motto, as corny as it
sounded. If she wanted something, she went after it. What’s the worst they could say?

No.
And she was rarely told no.
“That sort of attitude will get you far.” Debbie smiled reassuringly. “Talk to your husband. Find

out how he feels. Dig for what he wants. He’s a busy man, just as busy as you. I’m sure he misses you
terribly.”

He never acted like it. He said all the right things but he was so brusque with her. Sometimes he

even seemed…angry. And she hated that. The more time they spent apart, the more their relationship
seemed to disintegrate.

It was time for her to do something about it. And once she got her personal relationship in order, it

was time for her to seriously consider her next move with her career. She had enough money saved

and invested. She’d taken care of her family as long as her father tried to fly right for once in his life
and stop becoming such a financial and emotional burden. Knowing they were mostly taken care of
made her consider…ending it. Retire.

Not something she was prepared to talk about with anyone yet, least of all Debbie.

“You’re here, she’s there. Of course your marriage seems like a joke.” Rafe threw his arms up in

the air in frustration, as he was often wont to do. Vincenzo Renaldi’s older brother had a flair for the
dramatics—he always had.

“At least I don’t kidnap my wife in order to make our relationship better,” Vince returned, feeling

like a jerk the minute the words left his mouth.

They were talking about his utter failure of a marriage. He had no right criticizing Rafe’s

relationship.

“It worked, didn’t it?” The pleased grin on Rafe’s face couldn’t be denied. The man was blissfully

in love with his wife, Cat, and had no problems letting everyone know his feelings. Once upon a time,
this had been him. He’d met and fallen madly in love with Amber and promptly made her his wife.

Sometimes he wondered if that promptness had been more of a rash decision. Especially lately,

what with the way she ignored him.

And Amber definitely ignored him. Constantly. He wasn’t one to be ignored, and she knew it.
Life was about to change, though. He was going to do something about it. Hell, he already had.

Thank God his family had been in agreement with his plans. They understood this was important to
him. That Amber was important to him, the most important thing in his life. He loved her. Maybe he’d
forgotten that in the last few months, but no longer. He needed to prove to her that they belonged
together still.

His plan was about to be put into action. She could protest all she wanted, but it was no use. He

was determined. Stubborn.

Fine Renaldi traits. All Renaldi men got what they wanted…eventually.
And what Vince wanted was his wife back.
“Well, my plan will work too,” Vince said determinedly. “Yes, I’ve sat idle for far too long. I

won’t argue with you. No longer. Moving to be with Amber is the right choice.”

“Shouldn’t she be the one who moves for you?” Rafe asked.
“You sound like an old man.”
Rafe shrugged. “So I prefer traditional roles between a man and woman, what can I say?”
That was a kind way of saying he was a macho ass. Hell, Vince was one himself. He had to let go

of those traits to try to accommodate his wife as best he could.

So here he was. Changing everything in his life to be with her. If she rejected him, he wasn’t sure

what he might do.

His mind refused to let him go there.
“Have you talked to our mother?” Rafe asked.
“Yes.” And she wasn’t pleased with his changes either. Mama was more of a traditionalist. The

entire Renaldi family was rather traditional, and that was a kind way of calling them old-fashioned.

“A woman goes to her man and stays with him,” Mama had said to him on the phone just last

evening. “The man does not go to her. I don’t approve of your leaving, Vincenzo, but if you believe
she’s worth it, then I cannot stop you.”

Spoken like a mother who wants to be supportive but can’t help but display her disapproval.
“I’m sure she doesn’t like what you’re doing,” Rafe continued.

“She doesn’t have a say in the matter. My marriage is my business,” Vince said firmly. He believed

that one hundred percent. They could all get in his business as much as they want, but he would make
up his own mind. He would do what he wanted and damn what anyone else thought.

“So you leave in the morning?” Rafe asked. He’d come over to say goodbye. Their eldest brother,

Matteo, had stopped by earlier, voicing his concerns as well. Vince appreciated their support, but he
was a grown man.

He knew what he was doing.
“I leave late tonight. Taking a red eye to New York.” He’d probably be too keyed up to sleep, but

he’d try. It was the best he could do.

“I wish you luck, my brother.” Rafe reached out and clapped Vince on the shoulder, then pulled

him in for a brief hug. “I believe you’re going to need it.”

Not long after Rafe left, Vince exited his house for the last time. He’d leased it to a young family

who’d just had twins. His mother thought him crazy for leasing it when he could’ve left it empty, but
he believed in giving himself a reason not to return to Italy.

Having nowhere to live in his home country meant that he had no choice but to stay in New York

and work on his marriage.

He arranged for a hired car to take him to the airport, and when he arrived, he checked his luggage

in at curbside. With less than an hour until boarding time he knew he couldn’t sit idle at one of the
airport coffee shops, sipping an espresso. He’d never fall asleep.

Instead, he’d wandered around one of the many gift shops, staring at the display of magazines and

books that ran the entire length of the back wall. There were numerous fashion magazines, his gaze
tripping over one after the other until it finally snagged on one magazine in particular.

There, with thick, coal black circling her eyes and an almost mean glare on that otherwise angelic

face, was his wife staring back at him on the cover of Vogue Italia.

He plucked the magazine from the stand and flipped through it, stopping on the layout within that

featured her. The latest in couture wear, the article said. Amber was in a variety of strange poses,
her makeup harsh, the photography in stark black and white. She was gorgeous despite the odd shoot,
her long, lean body contorted in a myriad of poses. Studying the photos, he remembered what she felt
like beneath his hands. Her skin so soft, her body lean and athletic. She had long limbs, legs that went
on for what seemed like miles and gentle, tempting curves.

His heart squeezed and he snapped the magazine shut, clutching it tight in his fist as he went to the

cash register. He slapped the magazine onto the counter with a loud thwack and paid for it, not caring
that the cashier gave him an odd stare as she handed him his change.

It didn’t matter what anyone thought. Seeing his wife in a magazine both made him proud and

infuriated him. She was gorgeous, but gorgeous for someone else. Spending time with someone else.
Living her life without him.

And that’s what he hated most of all.

Chapter Two

“I’m in town,” Vince said, gazing out the window, taking in the cityscape as his hired car drove

over the bridge leading into the city. “And I want to see you.”

“Hold on, Vince. They’re calling me.” A muffled sound—no doubt Amber was putting her hand

over the receiver so he couldn’t hear what was said.

Secrets. She always kept secrets from him, and it drove him crazy.
Vince ran his hand along his jaw, the two-day old growth of stubble sharp against his palm. His

patience was thin, especially with Amber. She avoided him on purpose. She had been for months.
Well, no more. He was here, in the same city as she, so close he could practically taste her.

And he hadn’t tasted his wife in a long time.
“Damn it, Amber, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you something,” he growled into the phone,

relieved when the muffled sound disappeared and he could hear her soft breathing over the line once
more.

“Now, what were you saying? I can’t talk long, though. They need me on the set, so make it quick.”

She sounded impatient, a normal mood for her. From the moment he first met her, she had little
tolerance when things took too long to happen. She wanted it here and now. Always.

They’d taken one look at each other from across a crowded room and the attraction sparked, lit to

full flame. She went after him with a determination that surprised and thrilled him. He’d been just as
taken with her. The passion between them had been off the charts, impossible to fight. They’d fallen
in love and married quickly, much to his family’s dismay.

And then her modeling career took off and it was like she forgot all about him.
Renaldis don’t like to be ignored, and he was quietly furious. His family grew concerned, but he

refused to talk about it. His marriage was none of their business, he told his brothers and mother.
Amber was a successful model. How could he put a stop to her career when he was just as driven?

So he threw himself into his work, but in the back of his mind, the neglect burned. Amber was his

wife. She was a Renaldi. His brothers’ wives remained by their husbands’ sides. It wasn’t right, how
much his wife avoided him. They should live together. He knew her career demanded she remain in
New York and his demanded that he stay in Italy, but he’d finally had enough and talked to his
brothers. Matteo and Rafe had been in agreement. Rafe and his wife had made the permanent move
back to Italy. Vince would work in New York.

If Amber wouldn’t come to him, he would go to her. He would make her his once more. They were

married. She belonged to him. They were in love. She owed him a second chance at the very least.

“Vince?” Her irritated tone interrupted his thoughts, and he scowled, gripping his hand into a fist

and pounding it softly on his knee.

“I’m here,” he bit out. “In Manhattan. Tell me what studio you’re at again?”
Stunned silence on her end carried over for so long, he could practically feel her shock. “You’re

here?” she finally squeaked.

“Yes. Considering you’ve been ignoring me for months, I decided to come to you.” Another pause,

and no answer from her yet again. “We need to talk, Amber.”

“What is there to talk about, Vince? I’m busy. I’m working.” She stressed the last word, her

exasperation clear. He didn’t give a damn. “You said you would never get in the way of my career
and by springing this surprise visit on me, you’re doing exactly that.”

“Is it such a burden, having your husband appear unexpectedly?” Jesus, he wished the driver would

hurry up. Traffic was hell, but he didn’t care. There were ways to sneak around and cut time.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” she said, her voice small.
“Why? So you could tell me to stay away? I won’t have it.” He lowered his tone. “You’re my wife.

Act like it for once.”

“The same could be said for you,” she retorted.
Someone called her name in the background and Vince closed his eyes, breathing deep. “Fine. Go.

But give me the studio address so I can come to you. We’re talking Amber, whether you want to or
not. You can’t run away from me this time.”

“Fine.” She rattled off the address quickly. “Know that I’m in the studio for the next six hours,

though. You’ll have to wait. This shoot is important.”

“They’re all important.” He grabbed the notepad and pen at his side and scribbled the address

down. “I need to stop by Renaldi for a few hours, so this works out perfect. I’ll see you soon.”

Amber didn’t bother saying goodbye. She simply hung up.
“Shit.” He threw the phone onto the empty seat beside him, watched as it bounced onto the floor.
From the moment he met her, he knew Amber was driven. Determined. Just as determined as he.

She’d revealed much of her past when they first met. How poor her family had been growing up and
how her good looks had brought income to her family that they never expected. A local photographer
had discovered her at the mall, the cliché of all cliché model stories. One minute they’d been
struggling to put food on the table and the next, Amber made enough money to keep her family fed and
clothed.

She’d always felt that obligation, and it made her work harder. Never again would her family go

hungry, she told Vince the first night they slept together, her lithe, naked body molded to his, sweat
from their vigorous lovemaking still sticking to their skin. Modeling was her career, her life. She
needed to make as much as possible so she would never have to worry about finances again.

It didn’t matter that he married her and told her his family’s wealth was now hers. She couldn’t

give up her career. She refused to.

He tried his best to understand, but as the months went by, it grew difficult. Vince missed her. His

wife belonged with him. She had nothing to worry about—there should be no fear in her heart of ever
going hungry again. If he wanted to, he could write a check to her parents that would take care of them
and her siblings for the rest of their lives. Hell, she could write a check like that. He knew what sort
of money she made.

But she refused to. If she was too stubborn to sacrifice for him, then he would do it for her. It didn’t

matter that his brothers and sister thought he was being ridiculous. It didn’t matter that his mother
gave him a nearly two-hour-long speech regarding the sanctity of marriage, the roles that a man and
woman must fulfill to each other. His mother was old-fashioned, she didn’t understand. No one
understood.

He loved her. Vince was madly in love with his wife and would do anything he could to make her

see it. Did it matter that he was the one running to her?

According to his entire family, yes. It did.
But according to him? No. He would do anything for Amber.
Anything.

Nerves ate at her gut as Amber stared at herself in the mirror, watching the hairstylist take out all

the bobby pins from her hair. Her long, golden blonde hair had been styled elaborately to showcase

the simplicity of the clothes. A fashion shoot for Marie Claire magazine, this one had paid well.
Would help give her even more visibility.

She’d been a model for years, but finally, finally she felt as if she was at the pinnacle of her

success. She’d landed a few foreign covers, but she wanted the Holy Grail of all of them. The one
that was near impossible to get since the magazine still featured mostly celebrities on its cover.

Vogue.
Yes, she’d been on the British Vogue cover and most recently the Italian Vogue, but nothing beat

the original. Despite her thoughts of retirement, she still wanted that cover.

Desperately.
“You were fabulous today, sweetie.” The stylist, Anton, flashed a quick smile at her as he brushed

out her hair. “Like a perfect little doll.”

She smiled in return, her gaze going to Anton’s in the mirror. “Thanks.” Her lids lowered as he

continued to brush, the sensation soothing. She desperately needed to be soothed. Her husband was
set to show up at any minute, and she wasn’t ready.

When it came to Vince, she was never ready.
He had a presence that was overwhelming, unnerving. He entered a room and he sucked all the life

out of it until he was all that she could see. All she could hear and taste and smell. That was how she
felt when she first saw him. Breathless. Overwhelmed. The connection had been fierce. Intense. The
sex, delicious. Mind-blowing. She’d fallen head over heels in love…

With a macho, traditional Italian man who tried his best to tolerate her career. And he’d done so

for a while. Tried his best to understand since he was a career man himself. She’d told him her entire
story. Her early years and the poverty they’d suffered. The fear of the electricity, the phone or the
water being shut off at any given moment because her parents couldn’t pay the bill. The lack of food.

She’d gone hungry. Everyone in her family had gone hungry at one point or another. She’d worn

shoes until there were holes in the soles. She’d worn jeans that hit her almost mid-calf and they hadn’t
been originally designed as cropped pants.

She’d been tall and gangly through junior high until she blossomed the summer before her

sophomore year in high school. That’s when it all changed for her. When she became a working
model.

Vince had been sympathetic and promised her the world, which she’d never felt comfortable

taking. Wealth that didn’t belong to her made her nervous. And the vast wealth that the Renaldi family
had was something she never believed possible.

But look at her now, successful in her own right. Driving her husband crazy because she was

addicted to her work. Scared. What if she took fewer jobs? What if she cut back to part-time? What if
—worse—she flat out quit? That would make Vince happy, but not her. Her career could disappear,
and that frightened her more than anything. Her marriage was already tense. She couldn’t give up
everything for Vince, could she?

No.
The moment of reckoning had finally come. Amber had waited for it with a sense of dread that

always lingered in the back of her mind. Her husband had arrived in New York to demand she come
home with him. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to give up everything for their marriage, for
their future, for him.

She wasn’t sure if she was prepared. Worse, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be. Vince deserved

more.

Her husband deserved better. Better than her.

“Honey, you are jittery.” Anton shook his head when she gave a little jerk at his words. “Too much

Red Bull or what?”

“Probably.” She laughed, but it sounded fake so she stopped. “A little frazzled after the shoot, I

guess.”

“Why? You were beautiful, baby doll. Gorgeous. The photographer loved you and when he acts

that way over one of you girls, all drooly and obsessed and stuff, they usually end up becoming his
muse.” Anton leaned in close to her, his hands gripping her shoulders. “And when he finds a muse, he
puts that girl straight to work. Isn’t that what you want, Sleeping Beauty? Don’t you want to wake up
and find your face in every magazine?”

Excitement fizzled in her veins, shook and popped in her mind like a bottle of freshly opened

champagne. She’d worked with Anton before and knew he wasn’t one for exaggeration. He told it like
it was. And he was expert enough to know the behavior of the photographer she just worked with.

“Do you really think he liked me?” Amber asked, her voice hushed, her eyes wide. She looked like

an ingénue, all fresh faced and innocent expression despite the ton of makeup she still had on her face.
She was only twenty-three. She’d married Vince so young, too young. But she’d been in the business
forever, since she was fifteen. Had fully supported her family since she was seventeen.

The wide-eyed ingénue thing was a total act, a figment of her looks and nothing more. Inside, she

felt like she’d lived a complete life already.

She was both tired and amped. Ready for more yet exhausted at all the work that lay ahead of her.

More than anything, she was a complete contradiction. No wonder she confused her husband.

Amber did a damn good job of confusing herself.
“I know he loved you.” Anton gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before he moved away from her.

“You’re done. Go meet that man who was yelling at you on the phone earlier.”

Turning in her chair, she gave Anton an evil scowl. “No man was yelling at me on the phone

earlier.”

“Oh yes, he was. I heard him.” Anton laughed and shook his head. “It’s okay, baby. I won’t hold it

against you. I bet you have fifty men yelling at you at any given time. They all want a piece of you.
You could have any man in the world, couldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t allow any other man to touch her, since she belongs to me.”
Amber went completely still at the sound of that familiar deep voice. She’d heard it in her dreams,

velvety smooth and with a hint of an Italian accent. She’d heard it earlier on the phone when he’d
demanded that she see him, that they talk.

“Damn.” Anton’s brows rose so high they nearly met his hairline. His gaze cut to Amber’s. “Who’s

the ultra hot possessive guy?”

She parted her lips, just about to answer when Vince interrupted her.
“I’m Amber’s husband. Who the hell are you?”

Chapter Three

“That was totally uncalled for,” Amber tossed over her shoulder as she exited the building, her

husband following directly behind her. She’d given him the cold shoulder from the moment he’d
appeared at the studio, all determined, overbearing husband in full effect. Without a word, she’d
hugged Anton goodbye, gathered her things and left, with Vince following right behind her.

His mere presence was a living, breathing thing, meant to entice her. Drive her crazy. She wanted

to both push him away and pull him closer.

The man—and her feelings for him— completely confused her.
“What are you talking about? The way I talked to that man who was hanging all over you?” Vince

grabbed hold of her elbow, forcing her to stop. “He had his hands on you. You’re my wife.”

She turned to face him, wishing she could take a step back when she saw the anger flashing in his

dark brown eyes. But she needed to stand firm and hold her ground. “He’s the hairstylist. Of course
he has to put his hands on me.”

“He was overly familiar with you.”
“Anton is a friend.” She rolled her eyes.
Vince’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like you having friends like him.”
“He has zero interest in me, trust me.” Amber laughed and Vince shook her a little, his expression

going even darker. The laughter died in her throat. “He’s gay, Vince. He wouldn’t touch me with a ten
foot pole.”

Her husband gentled his grip on her but didn’t let go. His expression turned contrite. “My

apologies. It’s just…it’s been so long since I’ve seen you and when I finally do lay eyes on you,
another man is laughing and touching my wife and I lost my head. I wasn’t paying attention to him.
Only you.”

Lost his head and his temper, though she guessed she could forgive him. Especially when he looked

so handsome with his apology. No one could deny that her husband was attractive. The thick dark hair
that had a tendency to curl at his neck, those chocolate brown eyes, his burnished skin, harsh nose,
strong jaw and sensuous lips. Lips that knew just how to kiss her, smile at her, scowl at her.

“I’m in a business where there are tons of people who touch me all the time,” she said gently,

stepping closer to him. “You have to understand that.”

“Oh, I understand it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He exhaled loudly and ran his free hand over

his face. His frustration rang through his every action. “We need to talk, Amber. Now.”

She glanced around. They were standing on the sidewalk, pedestrians pushing past them, the

irritation clear on their faces. “We can’t talk here.”

“Of course we can’t. Come back with me to my apartment.”
Panic lit within her and she tried her best to fight it down. He’d get her into his luxurious penthouse

apartment and she’d fall straight into bed with him. When it came to Vince, she had no willpower.
And he knew it. “We won’t talk there and you know it.”

The wicked grin that curved his lips stole her breath. “That’s what I’m hoping.”
Slowly she shook her head, her gaze snagging on a storefront not far from where they stood. “Let’s

go to the coffee shop right there.” She pointed to its location a few doors down. That would be best,
having this discussion in public. That way he couldn’t charm her, kiss her, seduce her. She needed to
keep her wits about her.

She was about to break it off with her husband. Falling into bed with him would send the wrong

message.

“You want to discuss the state of our marriage in a Starbucks?” He sounded incredulous.
Lifting her chin, she sniffed, trying for indignant. She gently tugged her arm out of his hold and

started heading for the Starbucks. “What’s wrong with that?”

He kept up with her. “You want people to hear our personal business?”
“No one will pay us any mind.” She kept walking, her gaze locked on the front entrance of the

Starbucks, refusing to look at her husband. Keeping the discussion public would keep her safe. She
was bound and determined to do the right thing.

Staying married to Vince was definitely not the right thing.
“I’d rather we go to my place.” He paused. “Our place.”
“I’m sure you would.” She turned on him, stopping in front of the windows of the coffee shop.

“You’d love to get me into your bed. Where you can touch me and kiss me and say all the right things.
Next thing I know we’re both naked and panting and you’re inside of me, telling me how much you
love me and miss me.”

His gaze heated. Surely her words fueled his imagination. They’d fueled hers too. “And what’s so

wrong with that?”

“You say we need to talk. Well, then we should talk. And this is the best place for that, don’t you

think? In public where we have to be civil and keep our hands to ourselves? Where there are no
raised voices or passionate kisses to distract us?”

“Are you implying that you’re afraid to be alone with me?”
“I’m outright stating that I don’t trust myself when I’m alone with you.”
He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You say such things and I’m

confused. Since when did our marriage become such a burden to you?”

“Oh, Vince.” She shook her head, hating the cloak of sadness that settled over her, heavy and

foreboding. It was time she told him the truth. He was in a complete state of denial if he couldn’t see
what they shared wasn’t really working any longer. Had it ever? “It’s not a burden to me, it’s a
burden to you. I’m…I’m not what you want. Not really.”

“Don’t speak for me when you don’t know what I really want.” His voice was tight, his jaw

clenched as he glared at her. “I want you, Amber. You’re my wife. I love you.”

His words cracked her heart. “I love you too, but I can’t give you what you want. You know this.”
“What I want is for you to be with me. Truly. We need to have a real marriage where we see each

other every single day, we talk, we laugh, we fight, we make love, we make babies…” His voice
drifted, his expression swiftly turning tender. “Don’t you want children? Once upon a time, early in
our relationship, you said you did.”

Panic came back, quicker this time and she swallowed hard, trying to force it down.
“I know you’re young,” he continued. “I know you’re still very involved in your career, but you’ve

been at it for a long time. Isn’t it time to think about something else?”

“I can’t give up my career,” she said tightly. “Not yet. It’s important to me. You know this.”
“I’m not asking you to give it up, just scale back. I vow to work less if you can do the same. Our

relationship suffers at the hand of our work. I can’t stand it.”

“I can’t stand that I hurt you!” She breathed deep, trying to stop the tears that threatened to take

over. “I love you, Vince. But I don’t think it’s enough to make our marriage work. We’re at different
stages in our lives. We want different things.”

His expression darkened, and she took a step back, hating the unease that wrapped around her. “I’m

not about to let you go because you think it’s best. Have you asked me what I want? Have you ever
considered that maybe all I really want is you?”

She glared, hating how unsure his words made her feel. She preferred it when he went all macho

Italian asshole on her because at least then it gave her a reason for her anger and frustration. She both
adored his alpha tendencies and hated them, particularly when he used them against her. “Don’t act
this way.”

“You force me to act this way with your behavior. You don’t act like a true wife.”
“Because I’m not a true wife! Not really. We married too quickly. It was all hot passion and

steamy nights and long, sweet talks, but it wasn’t real. More like a fantasy.” The tears came now,
slowly sliding down her cheeks. “This isn’t working. I want a divorce, Vince.”

Vince stared at his wife, all the words that struggled to come out evaporating one by one. He gaped

at her like a dying fish, feeling like a complete ass. She said she loved him in one breath and wanted a
divorce in the next?

“No, you don’t,” he said, his voice raspy.
She laughed, and it was like a punch to the gut. “You can’t tell me what I want or don’t want. You

don’t have that right.”

“As your husband I do,” he started, but she backed away from him, the tears streaming freely down

her flushed cheeks. His heart ached that he made her cry.

“Stop with the macho act because I’m not doing or saying what you want me to.” She paused,

seeming to struggle with what she was about to say next. “Our marriage doesn’t work. It doesn’t make
sense. You’re in Italy most of the time and I’m…everywhere. We never see each other and when we
do, we fight like we’re doing right now.”

Her every word stabbed him, shattering his heart piece by piece.
“I love you, but you want too much from me. Things I can’t give you, and that’s not fair to you,

Vince. You deserve a woman who can be there for you no matter what. You’re a wonderful guy.
Really you are. It’s my fault that we aren’t working out.”

“No.” He shook his head, his brain refusing to compute what she said. “I disagree.”
“You can disagree all you want,” she said gently. “But I’m determined to make you see that this

isn’t working. I want a divorce.”

“Have you contacted a lawyer yet?” If she had, his heart would most definitely explode into a

billion tiny bits, never to be put back together again. It would wreck him.

Completely.
“No. But I will.” She lifted her chin, that familiar gesture telling him she meant business.
“I’ll fight you every step of the way.” He glanced around, irritated that they were having this

conversation in front of everyone passing by, no privacy whatsoever. Why couldn’t she have agreed
to return to his apartment with him? He could’ve talked to her then. Convinced her. Touched her.
Made love to her until she was delirious with pleasure and unable to argue with him. Every time he
brought her to orgasm, which was quite often, she became agreeable. Beyond agreeable.

“Oh, Vince.” She sounded so sad, so lost. “Fine. Fight me. I’m doing it, though. I’ll contact a

lawyer first thing tomorrow.”

She turned on her heel and started to walk away and for a moment, all he could do was watch her.

He was in shock. How could she do this to him? Why did she want to end things between them when
she never really gave them a chance? He felt like an ass, a failure, less than a man. His brothers
would give him endless “we told you so” speeches and his mother and sister would go on and on

about how Amber had been the wrong woman for him and they secretly knew it all along.

He couldn’t stand the thought.
Determination pushing him to move, he started to run, dodging the people walking along the

sidewalk, his gaze locked on Amber’s familiar blonde head. Her hair was in a ponytail and it
bounced with her every angry step. Any other moment and he would’ve smiled at the sight.

Now all he could think about was how she was running away from him, not running to him.
“Amber!” He roared her name and she didn’t so much as turn around. The streets were noisy. A

bus sat idling, its rumbly diesel engine loud. Impatient drivers honked their horns, a man nearby had a
megaphone he was yelling nonsense into. A typical New York late afternoon would surely drown out
his voice.

So he hurried his steps, running toward her, irritation working him into a near frenzy. Ahead the

crosswalk was green and she was close to crossing the street. He had to get to her before he lost sight
of her. Lord knew she wouldn’t answer his phone calls if he tried to reach her.

This was his last chance.
He shoved by a group of people, ignoring their yelling as he sprinted away from them. The light

turned yellow just as he shouted her name again and she paused, turning to look over her shoulder at
him.

“Stay right where you are,” he commanded, pointing at her. She threw her arms up in the air in

answer, turning to start toward the crosswalk just as the light turned yellow.

Damn it. He knew New Yorkers disregarded the light changes whether they were driving or

walking, but his heart skipped a beat at the thought of her barging onto the street without paying
attention.

Calling her name again, he watched helplessly as she didn’t slow down, her determined, long-

legged stride leading her toward the street. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze pinned directly
on him as she yelled above the noise, “You can’t chase me around this city forever, Vince!”

Amber turned, running out onto the street, directly in the path of an oncoming car.
“Amber, no!” he screamed, but it was too late.
He could do nothing but stare in horrified disbelief as the car struck her, sending her flying up over

the windshield to land on the ground. He got to her in a few long, heart-stopping seconds, kneeling
beside her limp, lifeless body. Her arm was at a horrific angle, her face scratched and already
bruising, a long, horrible gaping gash across her right cheek. He wanted to touch her but feared he
could do her more harm than good.

A bystander was already on the phone, calling 911 as Vince bent over Amber, touching her face

gently with a trembling hand. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? Amber?”

No response. She lay on the ground, lips parted, eyes closed, her clothes askew, her body limp and

scratched and bleeding.

She looked…
“God, no! Someone, please, help my wife!”

Chapter Four

Vince leapt from his chair at first sight of the doctor, practically running toward him on watery

legs. He’d remained in the waiting room alone for hours, refusing his sister’s offer for her to come
down and sit with him.

He didn’t think he could stand her uncomfortable chitchat. She only wanted to give reassurance, but

listening to Stasia drone on about nothing wasn’t his idea of comfort.

Being alone with his racing, guilty thoughts hadn’t been a real comfort either, but it was all he had.
“How is she?” he asked the doctor, his gaze snagging on the man’s name stitched in blue on his

white jacket. “Dr. Gilmore, is my wife all right?”

The pure, overwhelming panic he’d felt when he first saw Amber crumpled on the street, blood

streaming from her face, all came back to him in a rush. For one heart-stopping moment, he’d thought
she was dead.

Thank Christ that hadn’t been true. He’d said about a thousand prayers since that moment, all of

them of him wishing for one thing only.

Please God, make sure my wife is okay.
The grim look on Dr. Gilmore’s face didn’t ease Vince’s overactive worries. “Your wife has

extensive damage to her head, face and shoulders. She broke her right arm so badly we had to operate
on it immediately. We might have to perform another surgery before she’s released.”

Hearing the word “released” was such a relief Vince almost collapsed onto the ground. “Thank

God. That I can handle.”

“But, Mr. Renaldi.” The doctor reached out and grabbed Vince around the elbow, steadying him.

He hadn’t realized he’d been swaying on his feet. “Your wife…she is in a coma.”

Vince frowned, unable to understand what the doctor just said. “A coma?”
Gilmore nodded. “At first we believed her simply unconscious. We operated on her arm, which we

put her under anesthesia for, but she hasn’t come to yet. All signs point at a coma. I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. Vince’s entire world exploded at those simple words and all the doctor could say

was “I’m sorry”.

“Did the anesthesia do this to her?” Vince asked tightly.
“No.” The doctor shook his head. “Her head injuries are worse than we thought. Or so we believe

they are. We’ll know more once she comes out of the coma. We’ll perform tests.”

“What if she…” Vince paused, choking on the words. “What if she—never comes out of the

coma?”

Gilmore’s eyes dimmed. “That’s something we’ll have to discuss if it indeed happens.”
Vince’s mind spun. What if it happened? What if Amber never woke up? If he never saw her pretty,

laughing face, never kissed those lips, never heard that sweet voice whispering she loved him ever
again…

He didn’t know what he would do.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Vince said, his voice wooden, his emotions in turmoil. He stepped back,

letting the doctor escape, and he watched as Gilmore left, his soft-soled shoes squeaking against the
shiny surface of the floor as he sped away. On to save another life, Vince supposed. Or devastate
another family with horrific news.

He fell into a chair without thought, staring out the window at the night sky, the lights that still

dotted the multitude of buildings spread out before him. His wife could end up in a coma for the rest
of her life, and what then? What would he do then?

It was all his fault. He’d yelled at her, argued with her and made her angry. She’d run away from

him. She’d been trying to escape him because of his stupid threats. Look where they had gotten him.
Look where they had gotten her.

“Mr. Renaldi?”
He turned his head to find a petite nurse dressed in rose-colored scrubs standing before him, her

short dark hair gleaming under the lights. “Yes?” he asked hoarsely.

“If you’d like to see your wife, she’s in the ICU.”
See his wife. Yes, he would very much like to see his wife. “Thank you.”
The nurse gave him quick directions and he walked slowly down the hallway, fear making his steps

feel heavy. He wanted to see Amber. He needed to see her. But what if…

What if he didn’t like what he found?
And by that what if she looked terrible and had every tube possible stuck in her? And what if she

looked damaged beyond repair? He knew the guilt would be worse. So much worse. He didn’t think
he could handle that.

Amber probably can’t handle lying there in so much fucking pain her brain pushed her into a

coma, so who are you to feel sorry for yourself?

Lifting his chin, Vince picked up his pace, the self-pep talk urging him on. He was being a pitiful,

weak mess when right now, he was the one who needed to be strong. Not only for himself, but for
Amber and for her family.

He’d called her mother practically the moment it happened, trying his best to be calm while

Amber’s mom, Barbara, fell completely apart. They lived in Oregon, a world away from New York,
and she’d been frantic, hysterical, as she asked if she should hop on a plane and come be with her
daughter. Vince didn’t want to deal with a hysterical woman he barely knew and had reassured her it
wasn’t necessary, but now…he wasn’t so sure. Shouldn’t her parents be by her side? He might’ve
made the wrong choice.

Amber was close to them and had always felt this heavy sense of obligation toward them. She took

care of the entire Hall family even though both of her parents worked—or at least tried to,
considering her father’s stints in and out of rehab. There was no money there. None. He didn’t
understand, considering that Amber sent the majority of her income to her mother, but she never
divulged a real reason why the money went so quickly. He didn’t understand it.

One of the many secrets his wife kept from him that drove him crazy.
He entered the ICU and questioned the nurse behind the desk where Amber was and she gave him

directions. When he came to the room, he stopped, peering into the open door. A nurse was there,
moving about the room, so he crept carefully inside, the beeping of the monitor low in the otherwise
silent room.

As soon as she was out of trouble, he would demand his wife have a private room. For now, this

would have to do. The bed was against the center of the wall and Amber lay there, covered in a snow
white blanket, her hair a blonde, still-matted-with-blood, halo around her head, spread all over the
pillow. A bandage was wound around her forehead and stretched across her right cheek.

The gash, the one that had made her face so bloody. He hadn’t even asked the doctor about it, but

he remembered it was deep.

Career-threatening deep, possibly.
Vince went to her, pausing at the side of the bed. He was on her left side, which was best because

her right arm was casted from her knuckles to above her elbow. A tube was in her mouth, there were
bruises on her face, and he grabbed hold of the chair that sat against the wall near him, pulling it close
so he could topple into it before he collapsed.

God. He’d done this to her. She looked so small, so fragile and damaged. He hated this. What he’d

done. His carelessness, the stupid fight they’d gotten into. He both loved and hated her independent
spirit, the one that believed she needed to take care of everyone and no one could ever take care of
her.

She needed to be taken care of right now, though. Oh, how she would hate this. Knowing that she

lay in a hospital bed, in a coma and helpless, unable to do anything, not even move.

“You will come back to me,” he murmured, grabbing hold of her cool, dry hand and giving it a

gentle squeeze. “You must, Amber. Your life is not finished yet. You have a lot of living to do. We
have a lot of living to do. Don’t give up on me now.”

Not a word, not a sound came out of her in answer. She just lay there, cold and quiet and still.
Vince bent his head and wept.

Chapter Five

There was a brief time when Amber wanted nothing to do with men or relationships or even dating.

After casually dating plenty of gorgeous—and emotionally unavailable—men she’d met while
working, she finally swore no more. She’d been too busy working. Working, working, working.
Traveling all over the world, trying to make it, trying to be somebody, and she had so desperately
wanted someone to sit up and take notice of her. A fashion editor, a photographer, a makeup artist, a
publisher—she wanted to be a muse like the modeling greats of the nineties. Those girls had it all.
Style and covers and media attention and the most gorgeous men fighting over them, whereas models
nowadays weren’t as much of a celebrity as they were then.

She’d wanted all of that and more. It’s why she gave up dating and decided she needed to focus on

her career. In a short time, she drew serious notice. Gathered important contracts, was hired for top
tier shoots. And then she met Vincenzo Renaldi.

It felt like a dream, her memories of that first meeting. All golden light and perfection, as if the

clouds had parted and a direct beam of sunlight had shone upon Vince at a particular moment in time,
helping her notice him standing there in a crowd at an industry party. Just another one like usual,
she’d been to what felt like hundreds of them but that one, that night had been different.

Vince had stood there in the center of the crowd, drink clutched in his hand, a sensual curve to his

full lips. He’d been so handsome, so dark and sexy. His magnetism had drawn her to him without a
word. She’d simply walked up to him and stopped, holding out her hand like they were business
associates introducing themselves to each other.

“I’m Amber,” she’d said and his smile had grown, slow and sure and making her entire body quake

with need.

“Vince,” he’d said, taking her hand and not shaking it at all. No, he’d brought it to his lips and

pressed the lightest, sweetest kiss to her knuckles. A simple kiss she’d felt all the way down to her
core.

Stupid. Exhilarating. Exciting.
“Have we met before?” she’d asked, squinting at him. That could be the only answer she had for

the undeniable pull she felt toward him.

“I would remember.” He hadn’t let go of her hand. In fact, he’d pulled her in like a fish on a hook,

until she was so close to him, his mouth was at her ear. She felt his lips brush her skin as he spoke
and she shivered. “And don’t you think you would remember me?”

His confidence had been her weakness. Yes, she would’ve remembered. And no, she knew she’d

never met him before, but what else could she say? Her body felt like it was on fire just being in his
presence. Her panties had grown wet when his lips were on her skin. She wanted more. She’d wanted
him.

So she had him. That very night. Loud, passionate sex at his hotel room, his hard, sweaty body

above hers as he pushed himself inside her again and again and again.

They hadn’t been apart. No, they were in the honeymoon stage. She had the most gorgeous, most

loving, smartest husband in the whole wide world, and she couldn’t wait to see him.

So where was he?

Chapter Six

Her head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. Everything fuzzy and muffled, as if she was

conscious but not…quite…yet.

She’d had the strangest dream. No, not quite a dream—it had felt so real. Like she’d gone back to

when she and Vince first met. What a wonderful time that had been. She’d felt young and carefree and
so madly, desperately in love.

Now she felt strange. Confused.
Amber heard voices. Voices that talked about her. Or at least she thought they were talking about

her.

“Her vitals are stable. Though no one knows the extent of the damage to her head or brain…”
The man with the deep, soothing voice sounded like a doctor. Yes, and the beeping noises, the

hushed quality of the room, maybe she was in a hospital? And they were talking about…

Her?
“I need to know exactly when my wife is going to wake up, Doctor. It’s been two days.” Vince’s

voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. He sounded angry, frustrated, scared. Her heart ached at the
sound and she wished she could say something to reassure him.

I’m all right. I’m fine. I can hear you. I love you.
She did. Her heart felt ready to burst with love for him. What happened to her? He sounded so

worried. She couldn’t imagine how scared she would be if something horrible happened to him.

“Mrs. Renaldi is in a coma, sir. We don’t know how long it will last. You know this.” The doctor

sounded just as frustrated as her husband. She could understand why. When Vince wanted something,
he expected it to magically happen at his command. She loved that about him. His sheer
determination, his belief that he could do whatever it took to make his wants and wishes—and hers—
come true.

Trying her best to lift herself out of the fog, she strained against the binds that seemed to hold her

back. Her lids felt like there were two-ton bricks resting on each of them, making it impossible to
open her eyes. Her entire body ached, as did her head and she curled the fingers of her right hand, her
fingertips brushing against…plaster?

A cast. Her arm was in a cast. God, what happened to her?
Parting her lips, she tried to speak but her throat was so dry. She rasped her tongue against her

upper lip, swallowed hard and then croaked, “Vince.”

They weren’t listening to her, though. Her husband was too busy arguing with the doctor,

expressing his worry that his wife wasn’t receiving the best possible care.

“Vince. Please.” She cracked open her eyes to find the two men standing at the foot of her bed,

deeply engrossed in their conversation. The doctor had a white coat on and wore glasses. He looked
like a typical doctor. Her husband was dressed in jeans and a wrinkled white button-down shirt, the
sleeves shoved up his forearms, his expression full of despair. His face was covered with shadowy
dark stubble and there were circles under his eyes.

He looked both wonderful and terrible all at once.
“Hello,” she whispered. Her throat hurt it was so dry and she could hardly talk. The beeping on the

monitor began to speed up—mirroring her frustration, no doubt—and she closed her eyes, trying her
best to work up the will to speak louder.

“Wait a minute.” The doctor paused and she felt him draw closer. “Mrs. Renaldi? Can you hear

me?”

Another rustle of clothing and someone took her left hand. She recognized his touch anywhere.

“Amber. Sweetheart. Wake up.”

She opened her eyes once more to find Vince standing there, her hand in his. His eyes widened as

he glanced up and met the doctor’s gaze for a brief moment before returning his attention to her. “Hi,”
she whispered. It hurt to speak. It almost hurt to see. She wanted to close her eyes. She needed quiet.
Everything felt so bright and loud.

The smile that broke out on his face, though, was beautiful. “You’re awake.”
“Where am I? What happened to me?” She tried to look around but the movement hurt her head too

much.

Vince opened his mouth, ready to speak but the doctor interrupted him. “How are you feeling, Mrs.

Renaldi?”

“My head is fuzzy.” She ignored the dirty looks her husband gave the doctor. “And my arm…” She

tried to lift it but failed. The cast was so heavy, she wondered if it was made out of concrete.

“You were hit by a car,” the doctor said, his voice soft and calm. “We were worried about you.

You’ve been in a coma for almost three days.”

Shock coursed through her. “Three days?” She couldn’t believe it. How could that be? She didn’t

remember getting hit by a car or whatever he said. Yes, her body felt stiff and sore, but a car
accident? And a coma?

“I’ve been worried sick.” Vince knelt by her side of the bed, bringing her hand to his mouth so he

could press a kiss to her knuckles. A shiver moved through her at the first touch of his lips. “I sat by
your hospital bed this entire time. I couldn’t leave your side.”

“I’m so sorry I worried you.” She stared into his familiar brown eyes, her heart overflowing with

love when she saw the relief that flooded his gaze. “Were you with me when I was hit by the car?
Were you hit too?”

He frowned, looking confused. “You don’t remember?”
Amber slowly shook her head. “Not—not at all.”
“The human brain has a way of protecting itself by blocking out traumatic experiences,” the doctor

explained. “Perhaps that’s what happened to you, Mrs. Renaldi.”

“I suppose so,” she said, closing her eyes, shutting out the doctor, the room, the low beeping sound

and, regretfully, her husband.

“Amber.” Vince squeezed her hand but she wouldn’t open her eyes. She was so tired. She spoke

for maybe five minutes if that and she was exhausted. “Do you remember what happened before the
car hit you?”

“I don’t even remember where we were or…what we were doing.” Her voice faded, as did her

mind and she lay there, drifting off. It felt nice, floating in the clouds. Took her away from the pain
and the confusion and the sadness she could hear in her husband’s voice.

“Sir, I advise against pushing your wife at this moment,” the doctor urged. “Let her rest. The brain

is a delicate thing. She might remember more, and then again she might not. Give her some time. Be
patient with her.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Vince asked.
“Only time will tell,” the doctor answered just before she drifted off into oblivious sleep.

Maybe Vince didn’t want his wife to remember what happened right before she was hit. He knew

he sure as hell didn’t want to remember what happened between them either, but unfortunately, the
memory hung right in front of his eyes, a taunting daily reminder.

Their argument, his stubbornness, had driven her directly into the path of a speeding car. She

could’ve died. And it would’ve been all his fault.

Bad enough her arm was broken and her face marred. Her beautiful, gorgeous face…the cut across

her cheek would scar, the plastic surgeon had told him yesterday. They could try to operate on it, but
most likely that scar would never fully go away.

The scariest thing was the possibility of brain damage. The idea that Amber would never be the

same again, that she might not be able to function normally…worried him. He would always stand by
her side. He loved her. She was his wife. He had to believe she was just fine.

Just. Fine.
Her modeling career was most likely ruined, though. Again, all of it was his fault. She would hate

him for this. Might never forgive him either. She’d been so angry when they argued. And then that
anger had turned into resolve. Like she’d known exactly what was best for their relationship and he
had no say in the matter whatsoever.

And what she wanted was a divorce. She’d flayed his chest wide open with those words. He still

couldn’t believe she said it. Had no idea she’d even contemplated such a drastic end to their short-
lived marriage.

When she’d finally awakened, the relief he’d felt had been overwhelming. She’d seemed so

confused, so lost yet so incredibly happy to see him, he’d been thrown. He figured she’d be furious
with him.

But she acted like nothing was wrong. Like she was relieved to see him.
He’d escaped the room after dropping a kiss to her forehead, surprised to find her already

breathing deep in sleep. He lingered out in the hall, waiting for the doctor to emerge and when he did,
Vince went to him, full of questions.

Dr. Gilmore held up his hands, stopping Vince’s barrage of questions. “I don’t have the answers

yet. We need to give her more time, Mr. Renaldi.”

Time. That scared him. He was afraid to give her time. The more she had, the more she could

remember and then he didn’t know what would happen.

But he knew it wouldn’t be good.
“I don’t understand,” Vince said, frustration making his words come out sharper than he first

intended. “Why doesn’t she remember anything? Is this normal? Could something be wrong with her
brain that she would lose her memory?”

“As I said to your wife, her lack of memory when it comes to the accident could be a way of her

brain protecting itself. The mind is a wondrous and mysterious thing. It does things that the medical
profession often question, but we sometimes don’t find an answer.”

Vince wanted to call bullshit but he restrained himself. He knew yelling at Amber’s doctor would

get him nowhere. “Are you saying she has some sort of amnesia?”

“Possibly. She only spoke to us for a few minutes so we can’t be sure. Next time she wakes up, she

might remember everything,” the doctor said.

Dread filled Vince’s gut. That was the last thing he wanted. At least, not yet. He needed time to

prepare. To convince Amber that getting a divorce was the last thing they should do. “Is it okay for
her to sleep?”

God, he couldn’t stand it if that happened. The last three days had been some of the worst of his

life. He’d never left her side, he’d hardly slept or ate. Had no idea how he was standing and talking

like a normal human being when all he wanted to do was find a comfortable bed and relax.

But he couldn’t. Not yet. He needed to ensure Amber was on the mend.
“We checked her vitals and they’re strong. Normal. We’ll do a CAT scan on her tomorrow to

monitor her brain activity.” The doctor smiled, clutching his clipboard in front of him. “I’ve seen this
sort of thing before. Your wife will need lots of rest so she can recuperate properly.”

“I’ll make sure she does,” Vince said with a nod. “I swear.”
“Her face…I know she’s a model.” Dr. Gilmore frowned. “I hope she’ll be okay when she sees the

wound. Sometimes that sort of thing…when someone is injured and it affects their livelihood, it can
have an adverse affect on their mental stability. It’s best if she not look in a mirror quite yet. We don’t
want to upset her any further. Her mind is in a delicate state at the moment.”

“I understand.” He didn’t want to upset Amber anymore than she already was. “We’ll keep her

calm and quiet for the next few days.”

“Good.” The doctor smiled. “If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Vince had what felt like a million more questions, but he kept quiet. He didn’t want to barrage the

doctor and besides, most of his questions were the type that the doctor couldn’t answer.

Exactly when will my wife get her memory back?
Will she still want a divorce?
Will she hate me forever?
Yeah. Those were definitely questions that no one could answer.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said instead, offering his hand out for a quick, firm shake. “I appreciate all

that you’re doing for my wife.”

The moment the doctor walked away Vince’s phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket to

find his sister, Stasia, was calling. “She’s awake,” he said as answer, striding toward the small
waiting room that was on this floor of the hospital.

“Oh, Vince, I’m so glad.” The happiness in Stasia’s voice was unmistakable. He could always

count on his sister. “I’m sure you’re relieved.”

“That’s an understatement.” He settled in a chair in the far corner of the room, not wanting to

disturb anyone and not wanting any of the few stragglers in the room to overhear him. “She was
awake for a few minutes but went right back to the sleep. The doctor said not to worry, though. Her
vitals are strong and we hope she’ll be okay.”

“Good. This entire thing is so scary. I’ve been worried for you both.” Stasia paused, sounding

hesitant when she finally spoke again. “Did she remember your argument?”

The only person who knew the truth of what really happened before Amber was hit was Stasia. He

hadn’t told his brothers and he definitely hadn’t told his mother. The only person he could trust not to
judge was Stasia. They were the closest growing up since they were only a few years apart and
though they fought like cats and dogs when they were younger, they also took care of each other.
Always.

“No. She seemed perfectly happy to see me,” he answered as he leaned back against the wall

behind him and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Damn, he needed some sleep. His brain felt
sluggish, his thoughts turbulent and his reflexes slow.

“I’m sure she was! She’s just gone through such a traumatic experience. And you’re her husband.

Despite all the trouble between you two, you know she still loves you,” Stasia said.

“And I love her.” Would that be enough to convince Amber they needed to be together? He wasn’t

sure.

That was the part he hated the most. The doubt that lingered. He had no idea if she would turn on

him or when.

“Then live one day at a time with Amber. Remind her why she fell in love with you in the first

place. The two of you moved so fast…but I knew when I first met her that you two were madly in
love,” Stasia said. “Take her back to that place. Make her feel special, wanted, loved. If you do that,
how can she resist you?”

“You’re right,” Vince said, and Stasia immediately started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“You said I’m right, and you never say that. I need to revel in this.”
“Well, revel away, and know that I’m going to take your advice. I think it’s sound. I do need to

remind Amber of why she fell in love with me.” And he needed to remember why he fell so head over
heels in love with his wife.

He couldn’t wait to get started.

Chapter Seven

“So we’ve moved to New York? Together?” Amber glanced around the beautiful living room of

the apartment she and Vince supposedly owned together. She didn’t remember getting it, so she had to
take his word that it was theirs.

“We were discussing it. The family has an apartment we keep in the city for when one of us visits

for business.” He held her close to his side, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist. “While
you’ve been in the hospital, I went ahead and leased a place for the two of us. I hope you like it.”

“It’s beautiful.” One wall was nothing but windows, and the view of the city was spectacular. “I’m

so glad you decided to join me here.”

It was one thing she remembered being a sticking point for them when they first married.

Considering her career, she needed to be based in New York. And because he helped run the family
business of Renaldi Accessories and it was based in Italy…yeah. She remembered being so caught up
in the whirlwind of their romance and subsequent quickie marriage, she hadn’t given much
consideration to their long-distance relationship until after the fact.

Now, though, it seemed that Vince had solved that particular problem.
“I wanted to be with my wife. I missed not having her around.” He kissed her forehead lightly.

He’d been the perfect attentive husband while she remained in the hospital for almost two weeks
recovering from her injuries. The hospital released her into Vince’s care and she’d gone home with
her husband. A little over a month after the accident and she was so thankful for his being there for
her. He’d been a rock during the difficult days.

And there had been many. She’d had surgery on her arm, and the pain and discomfort had been

excruciating. When she discovered that the gash on her cheek was far worse than she first realized,
she’d sobbed for days. Cried over her lost career, her injuries. She’d cried over her silly vanity that
made her believe her life was over, which it so wasn’t.

Thank goodness she had Vince to lean upon, to talk to. He’d helped her through all of it. Listening

when she needed it and offering words of wisdom when she wanted them, she’d found herself
practically bouncing in her hospital bed when she knew he was coming to see her. Well, she’d
bounced as much as she could, considering her injuries.

Thoughtful and kind, always defending her when she had a question for the hospital staff, he was

protective and intelligent and passionate and so incredibly handsome. All of the qualities she first fell
in love with were still there in her husband. But he didn’t touch her.

Oh, he told her he loved her and held her, but usually only to help her. She appreciated his

assistance, his careful care and consideration of her wants and needs. She was mostly mobile, though,
with the exception of her arm in a cast, which would remain there for at least another month. Still a
bit weak and prone to quick exhaustion, but nothing major she couldn’t deal with.

She was thankful to be home. Well, in her new home. Maybe behind closed doors, and once Vince

realized she was really healing, he would be more agreeable to touching her. Holding her, kissing
her. She didn’t want passionate, throw-her-on-the-bed-and-shove-her-around lovemaking, though that
certainly had its appeal. She just wanted…love.

And she wanted it from her husband.
“Tired?” he asked, his deep voice laced with concern. She leaned her head against his chest and

closed her eyes, breathing deep his familiar, intoxicating smell. “Do you want to go to bed?” His

chest rumbled as he spoke and arousal trickled through her, warm and heady, but she forced it away.
It was silly, how much she wanted her husband. Did he feel the same? Or was he over the honeymoon
stage?

“It’s not even two o’clock,” she protested, rubbing her cheek against his chest once. Twice. He felt

so good. Was so solid and strong.

“Let’s get you settled in somewhere, then.” He walked her over to a giant overstuffed chair in the

living room and took her hand, carefully guiding her into the chair. He grabbed a throw blanket that
was on the back of the couch and arranged it across her legs like she was some sort of little old
grandma. “Want something to drink?” he asked as he handed her the TV remote.

She studied the remote, the many buttons she had no idea how to work. “Just some water, please.”

Setting the remote in her lap, she leaned back against the chair, watching as her handsome husband
hustled toward what she could only assume was the kitchen like some sort of dutiful nurse, ready to
serve her.

God, she sounded ungrateful in her own mind, but she didn’t want a nurse. She wanted her husband.

She didn’t want to sit alone in this chair—she wanted Vince cozied up right next to her. His fingers in
her hair, her head nestled close to his neck so she could reach up and kiss him there. Right where he
tasted best…

“Here you go.” He stood before her, a bottle of water held out to her, an anxious expression on his

face. Had she ever seen him look like this before? Granted, they didn’t know each other that well,
since they hadn’t been married long and their relationship had been kind of short, but still.

She didn’t want Vince tiptoeing around her. She knew he was worried and that’s why he treated

her like she was made of glass. The amnesia threw him. He’d admitted that to her a few days ago.

Well, they were even in that regard. The amnesia threw her too.
Taking the water bottle from him, she tried to smile her best, brightest grin but it hurt her cheek so

she gave up. “Will you sit with me?”

He frowned. “You want me to sit with you?”
“Vince.” She rolled her eyes, unable to fight the frustration any longer. “I missed you. I was scared

in the hospital and you were the only one who grounded me. Who made me feel like everything really
was going to be okay.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled, looking pleased.
“Yes, well, I also appreciated how careful you were with me, but…I’m almost fully recovered

now.” She smiled again, this time a little softer, not quite so wide as she reached for his hand and
gave it a squeeze. “And I hope we can resume our…relationship, as it was before?”

His smile faded in an instant. “Before what?”
“The accident? When you weren’t so worried I might shatter into a hundred pieces?”
The smile was replaced with a scowl. “What exactly are you talking about, Amber?”
Was the man playing dumb on purpose? God, she hoped not. “I’m hoping we can resume being…

intimate soon.” She lowered her voice. “I missed you so much, Vince.” She didn’t remember much
before the accident. From what she could figure out, a solid two or three months before she was hurt
just disappeared from her memory. So strange, though Vince tried his best to reassure her everything
was fine.

Vince’s scowl vanished, replaced with an unmistakable expression of relief. “I miss you too,

Amber. And if you want me to sit with you, I can. The chair is big enough. I’ll have to help you up,
though, and settle in first.”

“Let’s do it now.” She set the unopened water bottle on the table beside the chair, holding out her

hand so he could take it. He pulled her into a standing position, trying to move past her so he could
settle into the chair, and she didn’t get out of his way. He brushed up against her, his hard, hot body
touching her soft, warm one, and she swore her knees grew weak.

And not because of her injuries either.
This was what she wanted, what she missed. Being with her husband, cuddling with him, kissing

him. She was downright addicted to the man.

“Come on, then,” he encouraged, holding her hand as he sat on the chair. She went down with him,

aware of her casted arm as she nestled into the chair beside her husband. He made sure she sat on his
right side and she cozied up next to him, her head against his chest as she sat in his lap.

“This is so much better,” she said on a sigh. He grabbed the remote, turned on the TV and started

roaming through the channel menu, and she closed her eyes, savoring being so close to her husband.

Finally. So what if he was doing something so incredibly boring as channel surfing? She didn’t

think they’d ever sat together and watched TV since they got married. They were always too busy
working, traveling or making love.

This, though, in all its banality, felt like absolute bliss.

Vince had been so careful, so cautious around his wife since the accident. The amnesia still

lingered and the doctor was unsure if she’d ever gain her full memory back. They’d conducted
numerous tests, but all the results came back normal. There was nothing wrong with Amber.

She just couldn’t remember the last three months or so of her life.
Her arm was healing nicely after surgery. A consultation with the plastic surgeon was scheduled in

approximately three weeks. She moved more fluidly again and she seemed in better spirits. More like
the old Amber.

Well, the Amber he’d first met and fallen in love with.
There were no remnants of the angry, frustrated woman he’d argued with out on the street only a

few weeks ago. He still couldn’t believe his luck that she didn’t recall that horrific fight. Her threats
of divorce. He hadn’t mentioned what happened, afraid everything might come tumbling back and
she’d remember every detail. He couldn’t have that, not now, when their relationship felt back on
track.

Amber wanted to be with him, and he wasn’t about to stop her. They could work on this. He could

earn her trust, her love. They could find happiness again together. And once they did, then he could be
honest and come clean.

It wouldn’t matter by then. They’d be so in love. They might even laugh about their past troubles, it

could be so good between them.

“This is perfect,” she said on a sigh. “The only thing ruining it is my stupid cast.”
“You won’t be wearing that much longer,” he reassured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She

smelled amazing. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”
“How’s your cheek?” The cut still bothered her, throbbing on occasion, and there was even some

minor swelling. She didn’t look in the mirror much and he understood why. It hurt, knowing that her
career could be cut short. “Do you need any pain meds?”

“I’m fine, Vince. Really. I just need you,” she stressed. “I was so tired of being in that stupid

hospital.”

“I’m glad you’re home too.” He had plans for them. Big plans. Yes, he’d come to New York to take

over the US headquarters of Renaldi Accessories, but he’d asked for a minor leave of absence after

Amber was injured, which Matteo had given him. Family always came first for the Renaldis. “The
accident…what happened to you scared me.”

She lifted her head, her crystal blue eyes meeting his. His wife had the face of an angel and she’d

used it to her best advantage during her modeling career. Even with the bandage on her face and no
makeup, she was stunning. He preferred her fresh-faced and natural—he always had. “Will you tell
me what happened between us that day? How did I end up stepping in front of a car and getting hit?”

God. No way could he be truthful. He’d have to hedge around the facts. Just knowing he was being

dishonest to his wife, the woman he loved, made him break out into a sweat. “You’d just gotten off
work,” he started, his voice low, his audience of one completely captivated. She was curious and
eager to discover the details that were frustratingly out of her reach. “I came by to meet you.”

“Always the attentive husband,” she added teasingly.
If she only knew the truth. “We got into a bit of a…heated discussion.”
Her face was still pretty even wearing a frown. “Are you saying we argued?”
“Somewhat,” he lied. “It was a minor thing, but you were upset.” More lies. Well, about the minor

thing. “You walked away from me and I called your name. I sometimes believe that the accident was
—my fault. That you turned when I yelled at you and I distracted you.”

He’d never confessed that. Just lived with the pain these last few weeks as he’d watched her

suffer. Agonizing over her finding out the truth, worrying over her injuries, afraid he could’ve been
the one who did this to her. Not outright, since he hadn’t been behind the wheel of the car that hit her,
but still. He’d distracted her enough to make her do something foolish.

Like run out in front of a speeding car that had the right of way.
Amber lifted herself away from him so she could meet his gaze head-on. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“How do you know?” he asked incredulously. “You can’t say that with such conviction. You don’t

even remember what happened.”

“I know that you would never do anything to risk my life. You love me. And I love you.” She

leaned in so she could deliver a smacking kiss on his lips. “We would never do anything to put each
other in harm’s way. So of course it was an accident.”

“But—” He started but she placed her finger over his lips, cutting him off.
“No. An accident. This was no one’s fault.” She traced his lips with her fingertip, her touch so light

it sent a shiver stealing through him. He parted his lips and she dropped her hand, brushed his mouth
with hers again, softer this time. Lingering. As if she wanted more.

God knew he wanted more. Needed more. He’d missed his wife so damn much.
Reaching up, he cupped her uninjured cheek, holding her to him as he took over the kiss, parting her

lips with his delving tongue. She welcomed him, the soft sound of pleasure making his skin tight, and
he slid his fingers into her thick, silky hair, holding her to him.

When was the last time they kissed like this? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was he could

devour her. Kiss her for hours. Touch her everywhere. Slowly strip off her clothes…

“Sorry.” He broke away from her still seeking lips, feeling like an ass. “We’ve gone too far.”
“What? Are you serious?” The teasing smile curving her lips would be the death of him. He knew

it. “We aren’t teenagers with curfews, Vince. You’re my husband. You can do with me what you
wish.”

If that wasn’t a bold invitation… “You’re still in recovery, Amber. I can’t push too hard. I don’t

want to hurt you.”

“I’m not dead.” She slid closer to him, pressing her cheek to his so her lips rested just beside his

ear. “I want you. It’s been too long since I’ve felt you inside me.”

If she only knew the truth to that statement. They hadn’t been together in months. And her words of

promise, the way she moved against him, the honey sweet taste of her still on his lips…it was taking
everything within him not to jump her. Take her back to their new bedroom and christen that giant
king-sized bed properly.

“Amber,” he said warningly, but it was no use. His persistent wife was now nibbling on his ear.
And she knew how much he loved that. What it did to him. Such a dirty trick.
“If you’re afraid you’ll hurt me, don’t be.” She nipped his earlobe, and a low hum that he couldn’t

hold back escaped him. “I know you’ll be gentle this time. We can take it slow. Can’t we?”

He wanted to. God knew how badly he missed having her beneath him, naked and willing. But it

would kill him if he hurt her. He’d never forgive himself. And what if he couldn’t control himself?
Her body, the way she responded to his every touch and kiss had always been his weakness. The first
time they met she’d flashed that wicked smile at him and he’d been done. Dead.

They’d moved fast. One minute they were flirting, the next, they were kissing. And then…he got her

into his bed.

He never let her out of his life after that. Sexually, they were combustible.
Could he hold himself back if he had her naked in his bed? He wasn’t sure.
And he hated that he doubted himself.
“What if you just make me come?” she suggested hopefully, making him laugh. “Don’t laugh, I’m

serious. I’m all amped up, having you next to me. I can smell you. Feel you.” She nuzzled her nose
against his cheek, and he pulled away so he could study her.

“How do you think I feel? This is torturing me too, you know,” he said, meeting her gaze.
The triumphant smile told him she knew she had him. “Finally, the ice man cracks. I was starting to

think you’d turned into a nun.”

“I’m insulted,” he murmured.
Amber laughed. “Fine. A priest, then. Did you take your vows, Vince? Have you given up on our

marriage and become a man of God?”

“Now you flat out mock me,” he said on a growl.
“I can’t help it.” Her tinkling laughter taunted him further. And aroused him almost past his

breaking point. “I’ve wondered since the accident, what happened to my husband. He’s been replaced
with a stranger, I swear.”

That was it. He’d had enough. Standing, he brought her up with him as he cradled her in his arms

and held her close. A soft gasp escaped her and she hooked her good arm around his neck to anchor
herself. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to our new bedroom and showing you exactly where your husband is.” He jostled her

in his arms, giving her a little bounce but still being careful. Maybe he knew his limits after all.

“Really? Where is he?” She trailed sweet, hot kisses along his jaw as he strode through the living

room and down the hall, entering the giant master bedroom.

“He’s right here. And he’s about to give you exactly what you want,” he said as he set her on her

feet near the foot of the bed.

“Promise?” She sounded so hopeful, he almost laughed.
But he kept a straight face as he reached out and tucked a stray tendril of golden blonde hair behind

her ear. “Would you ever doubt me?”

She slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered, her eyes wide and luminous.
“Good. Because I vow I will never let you down. Ever,” he said, just before he kissed her.
And completely lost his head.

Chapter Eight

Vince’s large, rough hands cupped her cheeks and held her still for his onslaught of devouring

kisses, not that Amber protested. She loved it when he grew so commanding, so fierce when he
touched her. As if it took everything within him to hold back from unleashing that restrained passion
all over her. Usually, he broke down quick—always to her benefit.

She had the distinct feeling that wouldn’t be the case today. He was too cautious, too afraid he’d

hurt her. His consideration for her injuries touched her, but she wanted more. How could she express
to him that she didn’t want him to hold back? She’d already tried once.

At least they’ve gotten this far.
They stood at the foot of the giant bed, Amber’s body trembling with need as his tongue delved

deep inside the recesses of her mouth. Oh, how she’d missed this. Craved it. Human contact,
specifically from her husband. She’d longed for his kisses, his touch, the entire time she lay in that
hospital bed. The long nights alone in her room, staring out the window when she was unable to
sleep. Thinking of Vince and how much she wished she were at home with him alone. Just the two of
them. Talking and laughing, eating and exploring the city during the day, making love all night long.
That was what they’d done when they first got together.

Maybe once she was fully recovered, they could do that again. She’d like to travel more,

especially since she would probably eventually give up on her modeling career. A sore subject she
didn’t like mulling over too long since it depressed her. It was a decision she’d have to face
eventually, but now…now it was too tough. She could hardly look at herself in the mirror; the gash in
her cheek made her sad every time she caught a glimpse of it.

Thank goodness she had plenty of money in the bank saved up for her future and her family’s future

too. She couldn’t depend on her husband’s money no matter how often he told her she never had to
worry again. She was too independent. Didn’t believe that her family’s poor financial situation
should become Vince’s burden. Her mother had wanted to come see her, but her busy schedule hadn’t
allowed it and they couldn’t get away…

“I’m losing you,” Vince murmured against her cheek just before he dragged his lips along her jaw

in a shiver-inducing kiss. “You’re drifting, Amber. Thinking too much.”

“H-how did you know?” The man could read her every action, she swore. It was rather unnerving.
“I have my ways. I know you better than you think.” His hot mouth closed over hers once more, his

hands releasing their hold on her cheeks to drift down along her body before they settled on her hips.
“Are you comfortable?”

“I’d be more comfortable if I was lying on that massive bed,” she said, gesturing toward it with her

uninjured arm.

Vince chuckled and moved away from her, his eyes twinkling as he studied her closely. “You’re a

funny little thing, aren’t you?”

She frowned. He made her sound like some sort of strange creature when he described her like

that. “If you’re trying to pay me a compliment, I think you’re going about it all wrong.”

His chuckle deepened, the sound slipping over her and warming her skin. “Trust me, my wife. It is

definitely a compliment. You always have a quick thing to say. You’re very…feisty.”

“Mmm, you used to say you liked my feistiness.” That she could remember. He’d always liked her

attitude, the way she gave as much as he. Vince didn’t like weak women, and she was far from that.

She even remembered him telling her that she was too strong-willed.

You think you can do whatever you want and I’m going to stand by and let you? You’re my wife,

Amber. We belong together.

Huh. Where did that conversation come from?
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Vince said, tugging on the hem of her sweater. She lifted her

arms dutifully, her mind elsewhere as she tried to recall the exact conversation when he would’ve
said that to her. It sounded terribly macho and old-fashioned of him, to make such a broad statement.

She didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“It’s been so long,” he said on an exhale after he pulled her sweater up and over her head, tossing

it on the floor without a care. He stared at her, his gaze drinking her in as she stood before him
wearing just a simple black bra. “You still have bruises.”

His fingers pressed gently on her right shoulder, trailing to her collarbone. She winced, hating that

she wasn’t perfect for him. “Do they look bad?”

“No.” He shook his head just as he bent and ran his lips along the length of her neck. “You’re

beautiful. So beautiful.”

When he said it like that, with such complete reverence, she could believe him. “I’m scarred,” she

whispered. And scared. Vince was so handsome. He worked in an industry where he was constantly
surrounded by gorgeous, perfect women. What if he grew tired of her? Her arm may never heal
properly. She may never have full capacity of it again the damage was so great.

And what about her face—what if all the plastic surgery in the world couldn’t hide her new scar? It

was huge. She’d hardly looked at it in the mirror, but late at night, when worry nagged at her like a
relentless beast, she touched her face, her fingers tracing the edge of the bandage. That bandage went
on forever. Clear across her right cheek, practically the entire side of her face, from her ear to the
corner of her mouth. She was ruined.

Ruined.
“Your scars don’t matter, bella,” he whispered, his voice deepening with his accent. “I’m just so

damn thankful you’re alive, standing here with me.”

His brutally honest words touched her heart so completely she felt tears form in the corner of her

eyes. Her throat thickened with emotion and she swallowed hard, closing her eyes to fight off the well
of tears that threatened to slide down her face at any given moment.

“You mean everything to me,” he continued, his accent still thick, which usually happened when his

words were so raw. “I love you. When I thought I might lose you…I was beside myself.”

“Well, you can’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m here now.” She cracked open her eyes and rested

her hand against his chest, her palm flat against the center. His heart beat a thunderous race beneath
her touch and she curled her fingers into his shirt, suddenly eager to pull it off him. “And there’s no
place I’d rather be.”

A hint of uncertainty appeared in his dark gaze and he bent his head, his eyes peering into hers.

“Really? Do you mean that, Amber?”

She gaped at him, confused by his switch in moods. Her husband was rarely unsure. She honestly

couldn’t remember ever see him look at her this way. He was always confident, assured, arrogant at
times but then sweet and thoughtful too.

“Of course I mean it. I couldn’t wait to come home. I was so tired of being cooped up in the

hospital when all I wanted was to be with you,” she admitted.

He crushed her to him, careful of her arm, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pressed her

close. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, breathing deep his warm, familiar scent and she

closed her eyes, her head buzzing at being so close to him, so completely enveloped in his embrace.
“I missed you too. So much I felt a part of me was gone while you lay in that hospital bed. Promise
you’ll never leave me again.”

“I-I promise,” she vowed, her lips moving against his neck with her words. “I love you, Vince.”

Hearing his wife say those words sent a wave of relief crashing over him so soundly, he was

surprised he could still stand. It was ridiculous, the swell of emotions that overtook him lately every
time he thought of how he almost lost Amber. He’d held it together the entire time, from the moment
she’d been hit by the car, through the ambulance ride to the hospital, to sitting beside her bed while
she lay there unconscious, her cool, slender hand clasped in his. All the while he both mentally and
verbally implored her to wake up, show him a sign that she heard him, squeeze his hand, something.

He was a rock. Solid. Dependable. His family praised him for his strength. Amber’s family

thanked him for sticking by their daughter since they couldn’t be there themselves. Her mother broke
down on the phone, sobbing as she asked for forgiveness that she wasn’t there by her daughter’s side.
He reassured her that it was no one’s fault. Amber’s family dynamic had always confused him and
probably always would.

Having her in his arms, nestled so close, her bare skin on display for his hands to caress and her

declaration of love…he almost broke down and wept like a baby. This was his second chance. No
way could he mess this up. If he did, he’d only have himself to blame.

And he refused to ruin this opportunity.
Carefully he guided her to the bed, gently pushing her so she sat on the mattress’s edge. She gazed

up at him, those big blue eyes drinking him in, her face flushed a delicate pink. She was beautiful,
even with the bandage, the cast, the scratches and bruises on her skin. He both hated seeing that
reminder of her suffering and loved that his wife was a strong little warrior who could survive
anything.

“Now who’s the one thinking too much?” She flashed him a smile, her teasing words drawing him

back to the present. Reaching out, she took his hand and settled it on her unharmed cheek, leaning into
his touch as her lids fell at half-mast.

She’s gorgeous. Tempting. And she knew it.
“I was thinking how grateful I am to have you here in front of me. Your injuries could’ve been so

much worse…” His voice drifted off and she sat up straight, letting his hand drop as she sent him a
stern look.

“Let’s not think of what we could’ve lost and instead focus on what we have.” Her hand went to

the waistband of his jeans, slender fingers curling until they brushed against his skin. “Let’s
concentrate on each other. I need you, Vince. So much, it hurts.”

Amber slowly unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, her fingers nimble as she tugged the buttons from

their holes. Swallowing hard, he watched as she spread the denim wide, then smoothed her fingers
down the front of his black-cotton-covered erection. “Someone is happy to see me.” The teasing lilt
in her voice was his undoing.

“Lay back,” he rasped, his harsh voice surprising her. She jerked her head back, her gaze meeting

his, and without a word of protest she dropped her hand away from his cock to lie on the bed. Waiting
for his next command. “Stay still.”

She didn’t move. Pleased with her obedience, he shoved his jeans from his hips and kicked them

off, then reached for her, pulling her yoga pants off of her, until she lay there, trembling and gorgeous
in just her black cotton panties and bra.

He looked his fill, his skin tightening, his need growing. She was beautiful. All his. He could’ve

lost her. If not from the accident, then with her threatening him with a divorce. Somehow, he lucked
out and she was here.

And he vowed to himself that he would never let her leave again.
Methodically he stripped off his clothes until he stood before her naked. Now it was her turn to

look her fill, her gaze roaming over him, lingering on particular spots, her eyes darkening with
arousal. His cock hardened painfully and he grasped hold of it, giving it a slow, squeezing stroke,
trying to get himself under control.

“Are you going to stand there and play with yourself or are you going to join me in this bed?” Her

voice had gone husky like it usually did when she was turned on and his body heeded an answering
call.

He was just as aroused as she was, maybe even more so.
Without a word Vince climbed onto the bed, climbed over his wife until she was pinned directly

beneath him. He braced his hands on the pillow on either side of her head and he caged her hips with
his knees. She arched the slightest bit, her breasts straining against the cups of her bra and he reached
out, drew his finger atop first one, then the other breast. Goose bumps followed in his wake.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, bending down to run his lips over the path his finger just took. She

shivered beneath his mouth, a breathy little moan falling from her lips, and he darted out his tongue,
licking her skin. “You taste just as good as I remembered.”

“Has it really been that long?” She thrust her fingers into his hair, clutching him to her, and he

closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to calm his racing heart, his overly amped body.

She didn’t realize it had been months since they were last together. Her memory was gone. He had

to tread carefully for fear of alarming her. Curiosity could prompt her into asking too many questions.

Questions he didn’t want to answer.
“It feels like an eternity,” he murmured against her skin as he wound his arm around her, fingers

undoing the clasp of her bra with one simple flick. “Seeing you in the hospital and not being able to
touch you was almost the death of me.”

“Well, you can touch me now.” The smile on her face almost blinded him it was so bright. His

heart tugged in his chest. She seemed so happy to be with him, so content. A far cry from the woman
he’d argued with on the sidewalk less than a month ago.

“Vince.” She pressed up against him, her breasts in his face, and he tugged on the straps of her bra,

baring her to him. “Touch me,” she urged again.

So he did. He touched her everywhere, his hands mapping her entire body, his mouth following the

same trail. She writhed beneath him, gasping and moaning, encouraging him when he stroked her in a
particular spot that she approved of. She was so wet for him, so hot as he delved his fingers between
her legs, searching her delicate folds. He brought her to the brink of climax with only a few caresses,
sent her careening over the edge with his tongue on her clit, and when he finally entered her
welcoming body, it had taken everything within him not to come right on the spot.

But he got himself under control because he wanted to make it good for her. Make it good for them

both. She touched him with such reverence, her hands sliding over his body, making him shiver. And
when it was over, when the remnants of his orgasm still clung to him and he collapsed on top of her,
careful not to crush her, she touched his cheek, her fingers petal soft as she caressed him.

“I love you,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes, pressed his lips to the side of her neck.
Decided then and there he would do whatever it took to never let her go again.

Chapter Nine

“You need to tell her the truth.”
Vince paced the length of his living room, his cell clutched tight to his ear. Leave it to his mother to

be the only one to call him on his shit. “I plan on telling Amber the truth…in time.”

Claudia Renaldi snorted. Literally snorted. Vince hadn’t heard that indignant sound for far too long,

and he wished to leave it that way. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. His mother was frustrated.
Angry. If he didn’t watch it, she’d probably launch into a string of Italian, telling him exactly what she
thought.

“In time. What does this mean, Vincenzo? That you string her along and let her believe everything

between you two is bright and perfect?”

“It is perfect,” he said, because thankfully, it was. Like a little miracle, his relationship between

him and his wife was doing so well.

She’d been home from the hospital for almost two weeks. During that time, she’d gone to physical

therapy twice for her arm, which was now in a much smaller cast. Besides the PT, they only left the
apartment for meals. Otherwise, they stayed in. Together.

Talking, laughing, lying about in bed naked. Touching, kissing, making love. It was ideal. The way

they were together, it reminded him of how they’d been when they first married. That honeymoon
phase hadn’t lasted long, much to his disappointment. He’d returned to Italy for work. She’d gone on
one photo shoot trip after another for her job. They were rarely together…

And then it had gone to complete hell. Resulting in a terrible argument, ultimatums and an accident

that could’ve ended Amber’s life.

He was having his second chance and he wasn’t about to let this go.
“Only because you are keeping the truth from her.” His mother paused, and he waited for her to

continue. Because he knew she had plenty to say on the subject. “She won’t be upset if you tell her the
truth, Vince. Look at what a wonderful, attentive husband you’ve been. She knows how much you love
her. And I know that Amber loves you.”

Vince breathed deep, unable to deny what his mother said. Yes, they were in love. Yes, things

were going well. But he was scared. He’d finally told Amber that more time had passed than she
originally thought, that she’d simply forgotten everything because of the accident and subsequent coma
possibly giving her amnesia. She’d accepted that explanation, though she’d been curious. Asking him
all sorts of questions.

Was I still modeling? When did you come to live with me in New York? Have you met my parents

yet? Why were we having such a heated discussion before the car hit me again?

He was able to answer most questions and evaded the rest. How he hated that.
“I told you I’ll tell her. But I’m going to take my time with it,” he finally said.
“What if she finds out by mistake? What if someone else tells her that there was trouble between

the two of you? How would she feel then? Like you’d lied to her, that’s how,” Mama said.

“Who the hell could tell her besides you?” he said, his tone accusatory even though he didn’t mean

it. But damn it, his mother was pushing every single one of his buttons and he didn’t have time for this
shit. Amber was due back from physical therapy within the next fifteen minutes, so he needed to wrap
this phone conversation up quick.

“As if I would say such a thing to my daughter-in-law,” his mother said with a sniff. Great, now

he’d offended her. “That you would even imply so is hurtful, Vincenzo.”

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. He always felt like he was apologizing to the females in his life. “I swear,

Mama, I will tell Amber everything. Slowly. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Are you approaching this situation slowly to protect Amber? Or to protect yourself?”
As if he’d say “protect himself”. He’d sound like a selfish ass if he did so.
But he guessed that made him a selfish ass, then because that was exactly why he was doing this. It

had everything to do with him not wanting Amber angry with him.

He didn’t want to lose the love of his life. If that made him a jerk, then so be it.
“My darling, be good. Tread carefully around that lovely wife of yours. Make this right.” His

mother rattled off a bit more of advice before he finally hung up with her and he flung the phone from
his hand, watching with satisfaction as it landed on the seat of the overstuffed chair nearby, exactly
where he wanted it to go.

But the satisfaction left him as quickly as it came. He’d prefer smashing the damn phone against a

wall and watching it shatter to a hundred pieces, but that was stupid. Pointless. He would have to
channel his anger elsewhere. Turn the emotion into something else.

Like love for his beautiful, sweet wife, who was just walking into the apartment with a giant smile

on her otherwise weary-looking face. “Vince. Come hug me.”

He loved how demanding she was and how silly but sweet those demands were. Striding toward

her, he carefully tugged her into his arms and dropped a tiny kiss on the tip of her perfect nose.
“Tough session?”

“I wish I could get this stupid cast off.” She raised her arm. “They say I’m healing, quickly and that

they’re proud of my progress, but I don’t think that has much to do with me.”

“I’m proud of you too,” he said, dropping a kiss on her uninjured cheek. The bandage was gone, the

healing gash on full public display, and she was terribly self-conscious of it. She covered it now,
pulling away from him so she could touch it with the fingers of her left hand. “And you have
everything to do with the quick healing of your arm.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, her expression growing quickly somber. “I spoke to my mother

today.”

“How is she?” He kept his voice purposely neutral, trying his hardest to ignore the fear rising

within him.

“Worried about me. Thankful you’re here taking care of me.” Amber shook her head. “I told her

that was my husband’s job and she laughed. Said that my dad never really took good care of her or
any of us so it surprises her that you’d be so attentive.”

Vince frowned. This was the most she’d revealed about her family dynamics since he knew her.

“Your father is not very…attentive?”

Amber sighed and hung her head, her tongue slipping out to lick her lips. He shouldn’t be aroused

by a glimpse of her tongue. Damn it, they were trying to have a serious conversation.

But he was. His skin tightened at first sight of her tongue like he couldn’t control himself.
“I know I haven’t talked much about my family to you,” she said, her voice low, her gaze locked on

the floor. “I might not be able to remember some things, but that I know for certain.”

“Why is that, Amber? Why haven’t you told me anything?” he asked gently.
“My father is a drunk. An alcoholic. He tries to work, but he can never hold down a job. Or he lies

and says he’s working and he’s really at a bar getting drunk. Throughout the years I’ve put him in
various rehabilitation centers and the place he’s in now is one of the most expensive in the US,”
Amber explained. “We hide his behavior, his addiction. We always have. It’s become so ingrained in

me, in my entire family, that we all just do it automatically. That’s why I didn’t tell you, Vince.”

“Because you didn’t trust me with such delicate information about your family?” He refused to be

hurt by that. She’d grown up like this and he couldn’t hold it against her. Especially with the
information he was withholding from her.

“Of course I trusted you. You’re my husband, I love you.” She lifted her head, her gaze imploring

as she studied him. “Like I said, it’s how we functioned. Keeping his problems secret, not letting
anyone know that he’s in and out of rehab. This is the last straw, Vince. This is the last place I will
send him. If he can’t stay clean after leaving, then I can do nothing but stand back. I’ve given him what
I can.”

“You’ve given him more than he deserved,” Vince said, his voice tight and full of anger. It wasn’t

fair, Amber’s father taking advantage of her money, her ability to help him so easily. The money she
must’ve thrown away for his rehabilitation only for none of it to stick…

Must make her sick to her stomach.
“He’s my father. I had to do for him what I could to make sure he received the help he needs.” She

took a step toward him and he grabbed her, pulling her in close. “I hope you can understand and
respect my decisions. I’m sorry that I kept this from you for so long.”

He felt like a complete ass just with her words. “There is no need for forgiveness. You did what

you believed is right and I love you more for it.”

She sagged against him, her face pressed close to his chest. “I’m so lucky to have the most

understanding husband in the entire world, I swear.”

Ignoring the wave of guilt slapping him in the face, he slipped his arms tight around her waist and

squeezed her close. Held her like he was never going to let her go…

And he didn’t plan to either.

Amber let Vince hold her. She absorbed his strength, inhaled his scent and closed her eyes,

reminding herself that her husband loved her so very much.

So why couldn’t she ask him about the strange dreams she’d been having? And the even stranger

conversation she had with her mother?

She’d been plagued with dreams—nightmares, really—of her and Vince fighting. Of their voices

rising with every angry word they hurled at each other until finally she always offers the same threat.

I’m leaving. I want a divorce.
Each time she woke up in a sweat, her heart racing, the panic consuming her. She’d lie there, her

husband snuggled up close, and stare at the ceiling. Mentally telling herself it was all just a dream.
The argument wasn’t real. She loved Vince and he loved her.

The dreams lingered, though. Hung in the dark corners of her mind, making her feel like it was all

too damn real. She tried her best to shove the awful thoughts away, but they felt too much like…

Memories.
When her mother called while she was on her way to physical therapy, they’d had a great

conversation. Her mother had been full of guilt at first at not being able to leave and come see her, but
how could she? Amber’s little brother and sister were in elementary school, Mom worked fulltime
and Dad was in rehab. It would’ve been impossible. Amber was tired of the guilt and basically told
her mother exactly that. Her mom totally agreed, then said something odd.

I’m sure you and Vince feel the same way, right? Ridding yourselves of the guilt? I’m so glad to

see the two of you have patched things up.

She’d wanted to question Mom further, but then she changed the subject, launching into a long,

wrung-out discussion about her dad. Not wanting to deviate, Amber let her mom get it all out. Her
mom had no one else to talk to—everyone she knew was tired of pretending sympathy when really
they wanted to yell at her to dump the loser once and for all.

Amber knew this because she’d felt the same exact thing once or twice herself. It didn’t matter that

the loser in question was her father. He did nothing but drag Mom down.

But she didn’t seem to mind. She was loyal to a fault.
All the rehabilitation Amber paid for was more for her mother than her father. Her mom deserved a

better life than being married to a reckless drunk.

During the return drive home she rehearsed it fifty different ways, how she should ask Vince about

what her mom said. She’d come up with what she thought was a nonthreatening way to ask him and
had fully planned on doing so the moment she got home.

The comments she and her mom made about guilt had ate at her, though. She’d never admitted to

her husband about her father’s drinking problem. No one knew outside of the family and what few
friends her mom had. It was their dirty little secret, so it had felt good to unload on Vince. And he’d
been so thoughtful, so understanding, she knew she’d done the right thing.

That was why it was so hard to confront him about their past troubles. Troubles she didn’t recall

and that left her completely frustrated. Vince was so attentive, so loving, she had a hard time
wrapping her head around them having such problems that she would’ve spoke to her mom about it.
That she would be having dreams about it.

But there the hazy facts were, staring her in the face. It was hard to reconcile, but she needed to.
“Vince,” she started, withdrawing from him slightly so she could meet his gaze. He studied her

openly, his mouth curved into the faintest smile, his eyebrows lifted. He looked so happy she just
couldn’t confront him. She chickened out. “I’m thinking I would like to go to a psychologist.”

His dark brows instantly furrowed and his smile turned into a frown. “Why? Are you unhappy?”
“No, absolutely not.” She shook her head with a little wince. Her arm was bugging her. She’d

heard murmurings of yet another surgery if it didn’t heal properly and that was the last thing she
wanted to dwell on right now. “I just…I don’t like not remembering things. I feel like a piece of my
life is missing.”

“Just a short piece,” he interrupted.
“But still a piece. And I don’t like it. It’s confusing. I want to know what happened. I want to know

what I was doing those last few months before the accident.” I want to know why we weren’t getting
along, she almost added, but didn’t.

Yet again, she was a chicken.
“If those memories resurface, they might…upset you. Like of the accident.” He peered at her, his

dark eyes full of turbulence. “Do you really want to remember? Is that what you want? Aren’t you
afraid of risking it? Knowing what happened might be too painful to face.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” she said firmly. “I can’t live like this. Maybe others can, but I can’t. I

want to remember. I want to talk to a psychologist who might know some techniques about coaxing
out repressed memories. I know specialists are out there.” She’d talked to her doctor about it last
time she went for an appointment, the day that Vince couldn’t go with her because of an important
meeting for his work with his family’s accessories business. She loved that her husband was able to
be so attentive since she’d come home from the accident, but he did have a job and a career that
needed his attention.

Once upon a time, so did she.
And that was another thing. She wanted to go back to the agency. Yes, she had the gash across her

cheek and the screwed up arm, but maybe someone could tell her whether she could continue being a
client there or not. She needed a glimmer of hope, something to work toward. Even though she told
Vince and everyone else she wasn’t interested in plastic surgery or pursuing her modeling career any
longer, she’d been untrue to both them and herself.

She missed that career. She’d worked damn hard for it. No way could she let it just slip out of her

fingers. Her family needed her.

And she needed that career for her own self-worth.
“If that’s what you want…” His voice drifted and she saw the uneasiness in his eyes, etched all

over his features. He didn’t like this, but he wasn’t going to stand in her way either.

Her love for him only grew at the realization.
“It is definitely what I want,” she said firmly, reaching up to plant a quick kiss to his lips. “Now

let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “Physical therapy makes you extra hungry, doesn’t it?”
“And extra tired. But not too tired to go out for dinner.” She kissed him again, her lips lingering

because he tasted so good. “Food gives me energy for other things too you know.” She wanted him.
Again. Always. He only had to smile at her, touch her and she was ready to pull her clothes off and
let him take advantage of her.

“Really? You know, you used to be very careful over what you ate,” he said.
She frowned. “Why did you have to remind me? I’ve been enjoying this freedom.”
He laughed. “When you were modeling, you started to worry because, as you told me, you weren’t

getting any younger.” He slowly shook his head.

She laughed. “I’m twenty-three.” Amber instantly sobered. That was pretty damn ancient for a

model. She’d been at it most of her teens. She remembered being tired too. So tired of keeping up, of
knowing there were a million younger, prettier girls behind her wanting to take her place. It was an
exhausting business. And she had an exhausting family who constantly wanted something from her.

The only real peace she found were those first few months of marriage with Vince.
“I know.” He slapped her butt and she yelped in surprise. “I like this change. You have more

curves for me to caress.” His grin made her heart melt. “See? There was some good that came out of
this accident.”

Hmm. She supposed so.

Chapter Ten

“You’re against me doing this, aren’t you?”
Vince paused, turning so he could face his wife straight on. Yes, he was against her seeing a

psychologist, but how could he admit that without sounding like a complete ass? “I don’t want you to
get hurt,” he said.

I don’t want you to find out the truth.
The thought flitted through his mind and he banished it quickly. Secrets and lies in a marriage were

trouble. Look at his cheating mother. When his father died, it was revealed that his sister, Anastasia,
wasn’t his but another man’s—their father’s competition in the accessories business. The scandal had
initially rocked the Renaldi family to its core…but ultimately brought them even closer together.

His situation with Amber was different. If his father had still been alive when all of this came out,

he doubted his parents’ marriage would’ve survived. Just like he was afraid his marriage wouldn’t
survive if the truth came out. That Amber was unhappy with him, that she’d threatened divorce. She
could blame him for getting hit by the car, by keeping this secret. She could blame him for…

Everything.
He couldn’t risk it. But how could he tell her the truth? He knew his mother was right. He needed

to come clean to Amber. How, though?

As Rafe always liked to say, he was screwed.
“‘The truth will set me free.’ Isn’t that how the saying goes?” Amber smiled. She was preparing to

leave for her two o’clock appointment with the psychologist and her mood had been light and airy all
day. Like a weight had been lifted off of her. She was looking forward to this appointment and all he
could do was dread it.

Thank God he wasn’t going with her.
“I want you to be happy for me.” Amber approached him, resting one hand on the center of his

chest. Her touch burned through the thin fabric of his shirt and he steeled himself, not wanting to react
but failing. His hands itched to reach for her and pull her in closer. “This is a step in the right
direction. Progress. My mind is too restless, lacking those details. I want to know.”

He stiffened. “Am I not enough for you? I shared with you some of the details.” But not all. Damn

it, he needed to keep his lips clamped shut. “I tried my best to fill in the holes of your memories.” Not
good enough, though.

She smiled, her hand drifting down his chest, fingernails scraping, making him shiver. “I know.

And I appreciate it. But there are things you’ve admitted that you don’t know. I hate that they’re lost to
me.” Amber lifted up on tiptoe and brushed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll fill you in on all the details of
my appointment when I come home. Will that make you feel better?”

Not really. He was walking on thin ice already, which meant he needed to confess the truth.
And soon.
“Yes. I’d like to know. I worry about you.” He kissed her again, cupping her cheek, holding her to

him for a little too long, until she finally had to pull away from his still-seeking lips, her cheeks
flushed.

“You’ll make me late,” she chastised.
“You don’t mind, do you?” He smiled, though inside his nerves were at war with each other. His

mother—as much as it pained him to admit since he was a grown man capable of making his own

decisions, however stupid they were—was right. He was creating more problems by keeping the truth
from her.

“When it comes to my husband kissing me, I never mind,” she practically purred before she

dropped a lingering kiss on the side of his neck. Her hair tickled his nose and he breathed deep of her
sweet, sensual fragrance.

They’d been so happy lately, and he hated to see it end. The last few weeks had been downright

magical, reminding him of when they were first together. He’d slowly started going into the Renaldi
office and working, a few times even bringing Amber with him. She was friendly to everyone and
curious, wanting to know as much about the family business as she could, which pleased him. The
Amber of old hadn’t cared much beyond wanting to wear the jewelry that his sister, Stasia, designed.

They were scheduled to go over to Stasia and her husband’s place this evening for dinner,

something he both looked forward to and dreaded. Constant questions would make him nervous and
considering his sister was beyond curious about everything, he knew what was coming.

All he could do was prepare and hope to God Stasia wouldn’t ask anything that might trigger a

repressed memory for Amber.

“Be careful out there,” he murmured, patting her ass just before she stepped out of his embrace.

“The car will wait for you.” He’d become overly protective of her, making sure she had a car and
driver to take her anywhere she needed to go. She’d protested profusely at first, accusing him of
treating her like an invalid. It had slowly dawned on her that he provided the car not only for her
safety but for his peace of mind as well.

Vince never wanted to see his wife suffer through an accident like that ever again. The odds were

against it, but still. He didn’t like messing with odds. He much preferred ensuring her safety.

She rolled her eyes, though the smile was still on her face. “Yeah, yeah. I feel like he’s my

bodyguard.”

The driver he’d hired was huge. His size and stature would intimidate pretty much anyone, which

was Vince’s plan. “Ken is your driver and your bodyguard. This is a good thing.”

“It’s an overprotective thing,” she protested.
“A good thing,” he reiterated before he kissed her once more. “Now go. I don’t want you to be late

to your first appointment.”

Amber approached him again, circling her good arm around his neck, her face in his. “Thank you

for being so supportive of me, Vince. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Guilt panged at his heart. “You’re my wife,” he whispered, his throat scratchy. “I would do

anything for you.”

“I know,” she whispered back, kissing him one last time before she pulled away. “I would do

anything for you too.”

As the door closed behind her, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, breathing deep. He hoped

she meant that. He hoped like hell she could forgive him for what he’d kept from her. The plan was to
tell her soon.

Very soon.

“So what do you hope to gain from our sessions, Amber?” Dr. Sheila Harris smiled, her glasses

pushed so far down her nose that she could peer over them. Her new psychologist was older than her,
probably in her late thirties or early forties, with long, wavy brown hair and kind eyes. She had a
calm, quiet demeanor about her that Amber found instantly soothing.

“Answers,” Amber answered simply.

A single brow rose. “What sort of answers?”
Amber shrugged and glanced around. The psychologist’s office was clean and neat, the wood

furniture solid and the walls a soothing grayish-blue, though her nerves were still a jangle.

This was her first time to ever go to a psychologist, so she had no idea what to say and it felt weird

confessing all her feelings to someone she didn’t know. She’d never been the most open person,
especially with strangers. That’s why she still marveled over her instant connection with her husband.
How quickly they’d come together. How passionate it had been. How passionate it still was…

“Amber?”
She glanced up, caught Dr. Harris watching her with a curious expression. Her mind had drifted, as

it was wont to do since the accident. She swore getting hit by a car gave her ADD, a remark Vince
never seemed to appreciate her saying, though she really was only joking.

Sometimes.
“I want to know what happened the day of the accident. I want to know what happened the weeks

before. From what I can figure, I’ve lost…months.” Amber frowned and slowly shook her head. “I
hate that. Losing that much time makes me feel…”

“Go on,” Dr. Harris prompted.
“Sad. Lost. Confused. A little scared,” Amber admitted.
“Your feelings are perfectly understandable. Losing a chunk of your memory must surely feel

strange.” The doctor tapped away on her iPad, most likely taking notes. “I’d like to know why you
feel fear. Are you afraid something bad happened to you during that time you’ve lost?”

“No, not at all.” Amber shook her head again, her gaze going to the window, snagging on the

cloudy skies. It looked like it could rain. She felt as gray and gloomy as the clouds she studied. Why,
she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe because she just lied to Dr. Harris. She was scared something might
have happened… “Losing my memories makes me feel out of control. Like, how could I have lost
time? Weeks? Months? Why can’t I remember? What’s the big deal?”

“Why do you think you can’t remember?” the doctor asked.
“I’ve done some research online and I’m wondering if it’s because my brain is protecting me? The

accident was so traumatic and not remembering everything is somewhat of a blessing. At least, I read
some articles that said that. So I get it. Really I do. It’s just so damn frustrating.” She leaned back
against her chair and closed her eyes, lost in thought just like that. Sometimes…sometimes she had the
niggling feeling that Vince was hiding something from her. He never wanted to talk about her memory
loss. He never wanted to talk about the car accident and the supposed argument prior to it happening.

“I wonder if my husband isn’t telling me everything he knows,” she blurted, then immediately

clamped her lips shut. She shouldn’t have said that.

But it had to be said. If she couldn’t be honest with herself and with Dr. Harris, then who could she

tell? She had no one. Her mom wouldn’t understand since she was the queen of denial. Look at how
she dealt with her dad.

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Harris asked calmly.
Amber popped her eyes open and looked at her. “He avoids talking about the accident whenever I

try to bring it up.”

“I’m guessing it was a traumatic time for him,” the doctor reminded her, her voice gentle. “Perhaps

he was worried he might lose you? Maybe it hurts him to remember that.”

Valid points. And why was the doctor defending Vince? He wasn’t the one who needed therapy.

She did. “He doesn’t like telling me what happened before the accident. I ask him, I try to prompt
him, and he either changes the subject or glosses over it. His behavior makes me suspicious.”

“But why would he hide it from you?”
“Maybe something terrible happened between us in those months or weeks leading up to the

accident.” But what exactly?

“Well, maybe something did.” The doctor paused, as if both of them needed to absorb that

statement for a little bit. “You should ask him pointblank if something did happen.”

“You mean I should confront him?” Amber was incredulous. First session in and her psychologist

was encouraging her to just go for it.

“In time. When you’re ready. Have you considered that maybe you’re not ready to know what

happened between the two of you yet?”

“Of course I have.” And that was why she hadn’t confronted Vince about it. What if he told her

something terrible? What if she became angry at him? At the moment, he felt like her complete
universe, the only thing that kept her sane. The only person that seemed to really care, who wanted to
love her and keep her safe.

She didn’t want to lose him.

Chapter Eleven

“Your face.” Stasia Renaldi Westmore reached out, her fingers delicately running over the thin

bandage that still covered Amber’s cheek before letting her hand drop. “It’s not as bad as everyone
made it out to be.”

They were in Stasia and her husband, Gavin’s, kitchen, Stasia preparing them cups of tea before

they went back out into the living room and joined their husbands.

Amber touched the bandage, suddenly self-conscious. “Everyone?” Were they all talking about

her? The entire Renaldi family?

Stasia smiled and shook her head. “Fine, I’m exaggerating. Just Vince. He’s so worried about you.

The way he went on about your injuries, I half expected you to show up for dinner in a wheelchair,
semi-conscious.”

Amber couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. She’d always enjoyed the friendship she shared

with her sister-in-law. They didn’t see each other very often, but when they did, they always had a
good time. Stasia made her feel comfortable. They had a lot in common, including dealing with
stubborn, gorgeous men. Though Stasia rarely wanted too many details in regards to Amber and
Vince’s relationship since he was her brother.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit you as much as I wanted when you were at the hospital,” Stasia said

once they both sobered up. “There was so much going on with the designs and the baby. Paige was
busy. Mama isn’t here. And then Vince was so protective of you, he didn’t want your recovery
disrupted, he said.” She smiled, her face radiant. She’d just had a baby boy a few months ago, a
gorgeous little chubby bambino they named Michael, after her real father, Michael Worth. A man
she’d never met.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. And you’re still adapting to having another baby,” Amber said,

her thoughts drifting to baby Michael, who joined toddler big sister Sofia as part of Stasia and
Gavin’s growing family. She’d held him at dinner when he got fussy and he’d snuggled right up next
to her, his face pressed against her chest as he stared up at her with wide, unblinking eyes. More than
once she’d glanced up to catch her husband watching her, a wistful expression on his face, and her
heart had seized up for one long, terrifying moment.

Would he want a baby, especially now that she had no real plans to further her career? The entire

Renaldi clan was big on family. Vince had told her from the first time they met that he wanted lots of
children someday…

She wanted the same…eventually. Not yet, though. She was young, they hadn’t been married very

long and there were so many things to consider. Just thinking about babies overwhelmed her. Could
she imagine having one already?

That would be a giant no.
“Have you considered trying to go back to modeling?” Stasia asked.
Amber jerked her gaze to Stasia’s, surprised at the question only because no one else had ever

really asked her it. “I don’t plan on it, no.”

“Why not?” Stasia sounded incredulous. “You’ve been doing so well. Your career has really taken

off, especially the last few months. You’d texted me right before you got in the accident that you were
on the cover of Vogue Italia.”

“I did?” She didn’t remember doing that. She didn’t remember being on the cover of Vogue either.

“I don’t remember any of that.”

“Really?” The teakettle started whistling and Stasia went to it, turning off the stove as she moved

the kettle to an unused burner. She turned to face Amber once more, her pretty face drawn into a
confused frown. “I saw the cover. You looked gorgeous. And I know Vince saw it too. I asked him
about it and he said yes, that he thought you looked beautiful too.”

He’d never told her. Why not? Maybe with the chaos of everything that had happened, the cover

slipped his mind. “Vince never mentioned it.”

“Well, he was very proud. I could hear it in his voice.” Stasia moved about the kitchen, grabbing

two white cups and then pulling a box of teabags from the cupboard. “I figured you were destined for
even bigger and better things after that appearance.”

“Not with this, I’m afraid.” She touched the bandage again, feeling the itchy skin beneath. A sign

that her skin was healing, a reminder that she had no idea just how bad the scar was beneath the
bandage. She hadn’t been brave enough to look at it in weeks.

She was too scared to see the damage. What if it was worse than she thought?
“I’m going to guess the scarring isn’t that bad. Plus, couldn’t you see a plastic surgeon? I’m sure

you have options.” Stasia went about preparing their tea, looking every inch the contented, well-
rounded woman that she was.

Amber couldn’t help the stab of envy she felt. Stasia was so confident, so happy, while she was a

confused, scared mess. “My arm is still a problem too. The scarring is bad and I think I need one
more surgery. The doctor said I’ll probably never gain full mobility in my arm again.”

“Oh, Amber.” Stasia set the cup she was holding down and went to Amber, drawing her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry. Surely there must be something you can do?”

“I don’t know,” Amber said on a sigh as she withdrew from Stasia’s embrace. “I feel at a loss.”
“Have you talked about it with Vince?”
Amber shook her head. “He doesn’t seem to like talking about that stuff.”
Stasia handed Amber her cup of steaming hot tea. “What sort of stuff?”
Shrugging, Amber curled her hands around the mug, warming her palms. “My future. My work. I

remember him not liking it that I traveled so much.”

“You two married terribly fast. Right after the wedding, you started traveling even more

extensively for work. No newly married couple can find that easy to deal with I’m sure,” Stasia said
gently.

“Of course, you’re totally right.” Amber hesitated. Should she say this to Stasia? Vince was her

brother, after all. “I sometimes wonder…did Vince and I marry too quickly? Did we move too fast?
Were we really happy together or did things suffer because we weren’t together much?”

“Aren’t those questions you should ask your husband?”
Amber had no answer. What could she say? How could she argue?
Her sister-in-law was correct. Amber just didn’t want to admit it.

Being with his family tonight had shifted something deep inside Vince. Yes, some of the immediate

family members were missing, namely his two brothers and their families and their mother. But
spending time with Stasia and her husband and babies, seeing his sister and his wife interact with
each other…it had all pulled at his heart. His mind. His soul.

When he’d glanced up to find Amber cuddling their new nephew close to her chest, her expression

soft as she whispered to little Michael, he’d been overwhelmed with love. What would it be like, to
have a baby with his wife? Would she be agreeable to such a life-changing suggestion? The Amber

from before the accident would’ve told him hell no. That Amber had been ready to walk away from
him without ever looking back, which still crushed him when he thought about it.

So he never thought about it.
What he was doing, what he kept from her—he knew the secret-keeping wasn’t right. But it would

do both of them no good to bring it up. What was done was done. It was in the past. He needed to live
in the present and look toward the future.

Was his wife in agreement, though? Would she want a child? She’d said a few times recently that

she was young. Her life was still wide open to her and she was right. He couldn’t expect her to just
agree with him without protest. Surely she would have something to say about the matter of their
starting a family.

Knowing his sometimes rather opinionated and outspoken wife, she would have plenty to say.
“You’re awfully quiet,” she said, her soft, sweet voice breaking through his thoughts.
They’d taken a taxi home and they were stuck in late night traffic. “Just thinking,” he said, offering

her a quick smile.

She reached out and set her hand on his thigh, giving his leg a gentle squeeze. “About what?”
“It was nice to see you and Stasia together. I’d forgotten how well the two of you got along,” he

said, avoiding mentioning his true baby thoughts.

“I love your sister.” She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. He caught the scent of her

hair, the way her fingers skimmed across his thigh and his entire body tightened. “I love your entire
family, though I’m not sure if they love me.”

He stiffened beneath her touch. “Why would you say that?” he asked warily.
Amber glanced up at him the same time he looked down at her. “I’m sure they don’t approve of my

always being gone while I was working. Not hardly the way a newly married couple should behave,
right?”

Vince swore he’d heard those very words come out of his mother’s mouth. “Have you spoken to my

mother recently?”

“No.” She looked away, a nervous laugh escaping her. “I sound like her, though, don’t I? I think…

she might’ve said those exact words to me once.”

She sounded troubled, which worried him. He reached out, traced his finger along the gentle curve

of her jaw. “We never really did talk about your session today.”

“It went well,” she said, keeping her gaze averted.
“Amber.” She turned to meet his gaze once more, her eyes wide and completely unreadable. That

had been one of her special talents. How well she could hide her emotions. She blamed modeling. He
blamed her screwed up relationship with her parents. Her father was a drunk and her mother was a
co-dependent. Amber had been turned into one herself. “Did you like your therapist?”

“She’s very nice.”
“And do you feel like the session was helpful?”
She lifted her head and removed her hand from his leg, moving away from him. “If you’re trying to

discourage me from going again, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I’m definitely seeing her next
week.”

“I would never do that,” he said, offended. “I want you to get the help you need.”
“Yes, but you don’t think I need any help, right?” She leaned back so far she was wedged into the

farthest corner of the taxi. As far away from him as she could get.

“I never said any such thing.” He frowned, anger and frustration and roiling mix in his gut. “What’s

wrong with you, Amber? Why are you being so…hostile?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I know you didn’t want me to go to therapy.”
“Only because I was afraid it would upset you.”
“You’re always afraid everything is going to upset me.” She scowled. “I’m sick of it.”
“Sick of what? My concern for you? My love for you?” He was incredulous. Why would this make

her angry? One minute he was having thoughts of a future filled with sweet babies given to him by his
wife and the next they were in a fight.

Just like old times.
“When you say it like that…” She stared at him, sadness and regret filling her eyes, making them

dark. “You make me feel bad.”

A sigh escaped him. “I don’t want to make you feel bad,” he murmured. “You need to know I’m

always here for you, Amber. I’m not the enemy. I will support you in whatever you want to do.”

He believed that fully. Yes, he was worried she would find out he kept secrets from her and it

could all blow up in his face, but this was the chance he needed to take in order to move forward. He
needed her trust. He needed her faith.

He needed her.
She went to him, her arms going around his neck, her cheek pressed against his. “I’m sorry,” she

whispered close to his ear, her lips touching his skin, making him shiver. “I don’t want to fight with
you.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either,” he said as he slipped his arms around her waist. “I love

you.”

Her body relaxed against his, her breasts pressing against his chest, and his skin tightened. “I love

you too,” she said, nuzzling her cheek against his. “So much. I don’t tell you enough.”

“You tell me every day,” he said with a chuckle. Since her accident she told him she loved him

often, just as much as he told her.

She leaned in closer, her voice the barest whisper. “Maybe I can show you just how much I love

you when we get home.”

He smoothed his hand over her hair, cupping the back of her neck so he could kiss her. “That

sounds perfect.”

Chapter Twelve

“Oh, darling, you’re beautiful!” Debbie Kaye swept Amber into her arms, squeezing her close

before she grabbed her by the shoulders and gently forced her away, keeping her at arms’ length.
“Look at you. You’ve gained weight.”

Amber’s cheeks heated and she tilted her head, rolling her eyes. “My husband wants to fatten me

up, I think.”

“Fat and happy, isn’t that a saying?” Debbie’s assessing gaze swept up and down, up and down as

she kept hold of Amber’s shoulders. “You look amazing,” she declared.

“You just said I was fat.”
“No, I said you put on weight. I never said it looked bad. And you could lose it quick, right?”

Debbie finally released her hold on Amber’s shoulders. “Hmm, look at those real curves. Hips.
Boobs. And that scar…”

Amber’s heart lurched almost painfully. God, she hated the scar. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” She reached

up, drew her fingers across the raised skin. The bandage had been removed a week ago and she’d
been pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t as deep as she’d originally thought.

But now, in front of her modeling agent, the most particular person in the entire universe, she was

afraid it looked terrible.

“No. Not at all.” Debbie smiled and shook her head. “I thought it would be far worse, I must

admit.”

Leave it to Debbie. She was always so blunt, so brutally honest. Her attitude was what made her

one of the best agents in the business. “I have an appointment with a plastic surgeon next week.”

“What about the arm?” Debbie waved a hand at Amber’s arm, which had recently been put in a soft

brace.

“I don’t have full mobility. I probably never will,” Amber admitted. At least it didn’t hurt anymore.

The incessant throbbing pain had finally stopped for the most part, thank goodness.

“You know how you always pose in those weird angles. I’m sure the arm will be even more of an

advantage now.” Debbie clapped her hands together once. “So. When can I put you back on the
books? We’ve had plenty of requests. You’re still in demand, maybe even more so since the accident.
Everyone wants a piece of you.”

A surge of adrenaline powered through Amber, making her skin feel like it was vibrating. She

couldn’t believe what Debbie was saying. She figured the minute she disappeared everyone would
forget about her. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, my darling. You are one of the hottest commodities at the agency and look at you,

full of shock. You don’t even know it. The Italian Vogue cover sent you right over the edge, you
know,” Debbie explained. “Everyone wants you.”

Amber went to one of the overstuffed chairs in Debbie’s office and collapsed in it, surprised

pleasure sweeping over her. “Do you know I’ve never even seen that cover?”

“What?” Debbie shrieked, running to her bookshelf to thumb through a stack of magazines piled

there. “Oh my God, darling, you must see it. It’s divine. I know I have it here somewhere…ha! Here it
is. Look, look.”

She brought the thick copy of Italian Vogue to Amber and offered it to her. Amber took the

magazine from Debbie’s outstretched hands as if in a daze, her gaze dropping to the cover. There she

was, in stark black and white, black eyeliner smudged under her eyes in a messy, edgy style, her
shadowy hair in complete yet artful disarray. She looked bleak, desolate, her eyes empty.

“You’re absolutely stunning,” Debbie raved, her voice full of reverence. “Gorgeous. Look at your

face. God, I want to pinch your cheeks so badly right now. I’m so glad to see you in the flesh again I
can hardly stand it. You put everyone else to complete shame.”

“Debbie,” Amber chastised, shaking her head. She couldn’t take her eyes off the image that stared

back up at her. The image that was her. She was blown away by how…different she looked.

How unhappy she looked.
Couldn’t Debbie see it? She could. It was written all over her face, especially in her eyes. The

unhappiness, the sadness, the absolute disgust. When had these photos been taken? What in the world
had she been thinking as she posed for the camera?

“Manuel wants to work with you again. In fact, he’s dying to work with you. He calls once a week,

asking if you’re back,” Debbie said.

Amber glanced up, frowning. “Who’s Manuel?”
Debbie tapped the magazine cover. “The photographer who took these photos, darling. I believe he

was quite enamored with you.” Debbie smiled wickedly. “And if I remember correctly, I think you
were rather taken with him yourself.”

“But…but I’m married.”
“So? That never seemed to stop you before.”
“Are you serious?” Amber lowered her voice, disgust and horror racing through her veins. “Have I

been…unfaithful to Vince?”

“Of course not!” Debbie laughed. “You were always such a good girl. Always wanting to do the

right thing. But that didn’t stop you from flirting incessantly. Everyone can flirt, right? It’s all
harmless good fun.”

Harmless good fun until someone—namely her husband—found out she’d been flirting constantly

with other men. Men she worked with, men she spent too much time with.

Why would she do that? Flirting was a part of the business she knew, but…
No way could she have contemplated thoughts of being disloyal to Vince?
“When is your meeting with the plastic surgeon?” Debbie asked, interrupting Amber’s thoughts.
“Soon.” Amber offered her a weak smile as she handed the magazine back. “I’ll let you know what

they say.”

“Please do. We could even put you back on the books now, you know. The scar doesn’t matter.

Their photo manipulation skills get better as each hour passes, I swear. Or they can take your photos
from an angle,” Debbie suggested, excitement dancing in her eyes.

Amber shoved the magazine at her again and Debbie glanced down, frowning at the magazine.

“You don’t want to keep it?” she asked when she lifted her head and met Amber’s gaze.

Amber hated the cover. It represented something foreign to her. Something unknown. And that

something unknown was…her.

“You keep it, Debbie,” she said, her voice low, her thoughts a jumble. “My sister-in-law

mentioned she had a copy. I’ll get hers.”

Debbie watched her with those see-everything eyes. “You don’t like it.”
“I don’t remember it,” Amber stressed. “That’s a different thing.”
“You were a little bitter then,” Debbie said, her gaze locked on the cover. “Irritated with the

world.”

“Why?” She had to ask. Wanted to know.

Debbie lifted her head, her steady gaze meeting Amber’s. “Your husband was being rather

demanding on your time and you had none to give. He wanted different things, like children. From
what you told me, I had a feeling you were at the end of your rope.”

Amber’s heart sunk. “Were we fighting?”
“Not so much fighting…I wouldn’t call it that. More like he was telling you what to do and you

were rebelling against it. As much as you could, I should say. He didn’t allow much room for
rebellion when it came to you,” Debbie said with a soft laugh. “He snapped his fingers and, for the
most part, you went running.”

“Because I love him,” Amber said.
“Because you were anxious to please him and didn’t want to make him angry,” Debbie said wryly.

“He had quite the temper sometimes. Or so you told me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amber didn’t like what Debbie was implying. The way she just

said that…it almost sounded like she was hinting that Vince was abusive. Amber found that hard to
believe. She’d dealt with enough emotional abuse from her father to last her a lifetime.

No way would she tolerate that sort of treatment.
Debbie waved her hand, dismissing her words. “Don’t be so sensitive. Clearly you’re completely

enamored with your husband again, which I find delightfully sweet. Good for you, for making it work
with the macho Italian, Vincenzo Renaldi. You two make a beautiful couple.”

Funny, how those simple words that sounded like a compliment rang in Amber’s head as she left

the agency.

You two make a beautiful couple.
The sarcasm in Debbie’s voice had been clear. She didn’t approve of Amber’s relationship with

Vince.

But why?

Vince had left work early to beat Amber home and he’d made it with at least thirty minutes to

spare. She’d texted him when she’d arrived at her modeling agency, letting him know she was
meeting with Debbie Kaye.

He’d never been a fan of Debbie and he knew the feeling was mutual. They both wanted a piece of

Amber. He felt it was his right as her husband. Debbie had felt it was her right as Amber’s agent and
controller of her career. She’d even threatened Vince once, right after they got married and Amber
had insisted they throw a huge party for all her friends. Debbie had cornered him at the restaurant they
closed down specifically for the party, in the deepest, darkest corner she could find so no one else
would hear her.

She belongs to me. You may have convinced her to marry you and give her endless orgasms

every night, but she’s mine. Long after your relationship is over, she will still be with me. And
don’t you ever forget it.

Talk about possessive. He’d been so head over heels in love with Amber he’d brushed off

Debbie’s threat.

Now, though, he wondered. Had she poisoned Amber into believing he was no good for her? Had

she been the one encouraging Amber to dump him for good? Not that Amber couldn’t think for herself,
but he didn’t understand how they could go from being so completely in love to everything falling
apart day by day, week by week until Amber was asking for a divorce. It seemed to happen fast,
without any real explanation.

It had never made any sense.

To temper her meeting with Debbie, he decided to surprise Amber with takeout dinner from her

favorite restaurant and then a romantic evening…naked in bed. They hadn’t made love in almost a
week and he knew it was because she’d been dealing with some heavy stuff. The scar on her face
upset her. Her struggle with physical therapy for her arm frustrated her too. She was feeling self-
conscious and low, and that was why he hadn’t discouraged her when she told him she was meeting
with Debbie today.

If she’d done the same right after her accident, he would’ve discouraged her from going. He’d been

fearful, of her finding out he’d deceived her about the accident and afraid that Debbie would say
something detrimental about him and their relationship. Why the woman was hell bent on driving a
wedge between them he had no idea. He just wanted her to disappear.

But time had passed. He and Amber were in love. She was going to therapy with her psychologist

and it was helping. He couldn’t begrudge her anything that would help her heal. He wanted her
healed.

He just flat out wanted her.
His phone dinged, indicating he had a text, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see it was Amber

saying she was almost home. He went to work, grabbing two plates, setting the food and silverware
on the table and pulling out a bottle of chilled wine. He hurriedly changed out of his work clothes,
throwing on a T-shirt and old pair of jeans, wanting to be comfortable and relaxed. Wanting Amber
comfortable and relaxed as well.

“I’m home,” she called as she entered the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her. Vince

came out to greet her with a glass of wine and a kiss.

“Welcome home,” he murmured against her lips.
She smiled and took the wine he offered, sipping quickly from the glass. “Thank you. What did I do

to earn such a pleasant welcome?”

“I wanted to make sure you had a good afternoon.” He took her purse from her arm and set it on the

couch, then took her hand and led her to the dining room.

Amber stopped short when she saw all the food spread out on the table, the lit candles flickering in

the center. “Is dinner from my favorite restaurant in the whole entire world?”

“Yes.” He slipped his arms around her from behind and kissed the side of her neck. “Are you

hungry?”

“Starving.” She rested her hands over his, tilting her head to give him better access. “Though I

should stop eating so much. Debbie said I’ve gained weight.”

Vince stiffened, lifting his head to stare incredulously into Amber’s eyes. Fury buzzed within him

and he tried to shove it down. “I can’t believe she would say such a thing to you.”

“Oh, don’t take it wrong. She said I looked good. I have curves now.” She turned in his embrace,

smiling up at him. “Do you like my curves?”

He settled his hands on her flared hips, his gaze dropping to her breasts straining beneath her

sweater. “I love your curves.” He gripped her hips, pulling her into him so she could feel just how
much he loved her.

Laughing, Amber wound her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“You love them naked.”

“I love everything about you.” His expression, his tone of voice turned serious. He wanted her to

know just how much she meant to him. Would always mean to him.

“I know.” She lifted up on tiptoe and kissed him soundly on the lips. “I love you too. Now let’s eat

our dinner before it gets cold.”

“Sounds good.” He released his hold on her, watching as she settled in her chair. He did the same.

“And no holding back. I want you to eat all of your favorite dishes until you’re stuffed.”

“Such a taskmaster,” she said teasingly.
They ate and talked, Vince encouraging her to have second helpings, Amber jokingly protesting but

doing it anyway. She smiled and laughed, reminding him of the Amber he’d first met and fell in love
with, though she did become serious when she spoke of her visit with Debbie.

“I saw my Italian Vogue cover,” she said as she pushed her plate away.
Vince took a sip from his mostly empty wineglass, feigning nonchalance. “What did you think?” He

hated that cover. It reminded him of the day he flew to New York to reclaim his wife. How angry
he’d been. How sad. Seeing the magazine at the airport gift shop, staring at his wife in a dumbfounded
stupor, he couldn’t believe it was Amber he’d been looking at.

She was unrecognizable in that photo. He’d been proud of her, but that didn’t mean he liked the

cover. It was a bad memory that reminded him of a different time. A painful time in their lives, in
their marriage.

“I didn’t like it.” She paused, dropping her gaze to the table from a moment as if lost in thought. “I

didn’t look like me.”

“I agree,” he said quietly. “But it was a beautiful photo. Very edgy.”
Amber lifted her head, her eyes wide, shocked etched all over her face. “You saw it?” She paused,

memories flooding her. “Oh, that’s right. Stasia told me.”

Vince nodded. “Came across it unexpectedly. Couldn’t believe it was you I was looking at,

truthfully.”

“I feel the same way,” she admitted.
“What did Debbie say?” he asked.
“She loved it. Was so enthusiastic to see me. She said since the cover, since the accident, I have

been completely in demand and so many people have put in requests to work with me. Photographers,
magazines, stylists…I’m a hot commodity. That’s how she described me.”

“So I assume you’re going back to work, then.” He tried to drink out of his wineglass again, but it

was disappointingly empty.

“I don’t think so,” she murmured, slowly shaking her head.
He set his wineglass on the table slowly, shock coursing through him. “Why not? I thought you

were feeling the itch to go back lately.”

“I was. Meeting with Debbie…it confused me. I was so glad to see her at first. But then the more

she said, the more hollow I felt. She went on and on about my career, how everyone wants me, and it
all felt really fake.”

Relief flooded him, but he schooled his expression. He didn’t want Amber to know how much this

pleased him. He would’ve supported her no matter what, but truthfully?

He didn’t want her to go back to work. Go back to modeling. He was afraid he’d never see her

again. That they would fall right back into the old patterns and argue over her career, over his, over
their marriage and how they never saw each other.

That was the last thing he wanted.
“You may change your mind,” he said, proud of how neutral his voice was.
“I might.” She shrugged, a little smile tickling the corner of her lips. “And then again, I might not. I

enjoy staying home and spending so much time with you, you know. A girl could get used to this sort
of life.”

“You’ll get bored,” he said, ignoring his happily beating heart. She could change her mind in a

flash. She’d done it before.

“Maybe. But then maybe we could have a baby and my life will be occupied with taking care of

our child. And I might become so enraptured with my new life as a mother I could want even more
children.” Her smile grew and she reached out her hand, which he took easily, her slender fingers
curling around his. “In fact, I think it would be a good idea for us to go back to bed and practice
making a baby right now. What do you think?”

Vince squeezed her hand, smiling at her in return.
He believed all of his dreams were coming true.

Chapter Thirteen

Amber wasn’t sure why the sudden change of heart in regards to starting a family, but she was

rolling with it. More than that, she wanted it, truly wanted it.

With Vince. Only with Vince.
Maybe it was because they’d spent so much time with Stasia and her husband, Gavin, and their two

young children. Maybe it was Debbie’s comment about Vince wanting to start a family and how she’d
been against it. Even a week or two ago she’d been against it, though there’d always been a niggling
doubt…

Whatever it was, the idea of having a child with Vince had occupied her thoughts for days. Weeks

really, though she wasn’t sure what exactly kicked it off in the first place. All she knew was that she
loved her husband above everyone else. She wanted to create a family with him. She wanted to show
him just how much she loved him.

And she wanted to be with him. Now. Tonight. For all eternity.
She’d dragged Vince back to their bedroom, startled to find the mood already set. Her husband had

been busy before she returned home and it thrilled her that he cared so much and wanted to make a
special night for them both. The bed had been turned back invitingly, lit votive candles were scattered
all over the room and the scent in the air was sweetly seductive.

“You really did plan a special night, didn’t you?” She turned to him, curling her finger around one

of his belt loops on his jeans and pulling him to her.

He went easily, a sensual smile curving his lips. “It’s been too long since I’ve held my wife in my

arms.”

She slipped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest for a long, quiet moment. His

steadily beating heart calmed her, filled her with peace. How did she get so lucky? How did she find
such a wonderful, perfect man to stand by her side? “I know I haven’t been very…affectionate lately,”
she murmured.

Vince kissed the top of her head. “You’ve been preoccupied with other things.”
“That doesn’t mean I should ignore you. That’s no excuse.” She tilted her head back and gazed up

at him, her heart overflowing with love for Vince. She flat out adored him. Did he know that? Did he
see how much he meant to her? She might’ve not shown it lately, but she would tonight.

Just as much as he was showing her. For the first time since her accident, she felt like they were on

the same page. They wanted the same things. Life was simple, really. If she followed a certain
pattern, things would automatically happen. She was the one who made her life complicated with her
choices. Getting married and then leaving her husband to work for weeks, months at a time on
location, all over the world, while virtually ignoring Vince…

Of course, he wouldn’t stand for that. How could he? He had his pride.
He also had love, plenty of love for her.
“Well, we’re done ignoring each other this week.” He settled his hand on the side of her cheek, his

fingers gently caressing her skin. His gaze roved over her face, his eyes lit with that familiar hungry
fire that told her he was aroused. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled and angled her face so she could kiss his palm. “Thank you.”
“I mean it.” His expression was solemn, his dark eyes becoming unreadable as he continued to

speak. “I know you hear that all the time, what with your modeling. People fawn all over you, tell you

that you’re gorgeous and it’s true. But I see you, Amber. I really see you and what you are on the
inside. What you stand for. I’m proud of you. Madly in love with you. I just…I wanted you to know
that.”

His expression was so vulnerable after making such a heartfelt declaration, her heart overflowed

with love for this man. It was her turn to reach for him, settle her hand on his stubble-roughened
cheek. “I love you too, Vince. So much.”

“When I think about all that we could’ve lost…” His voice drifted and he closed his eyes tightly,

his mouth drawn. He looked in so much pain and she hated that. The accident, the possible
consequences, they still upset him greatly.

She wanted to take all of his pain away. Like he took hers away.
“Don’t think of it.” She reared up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his in a simple, lingering kiss.
He would have none of it, though. Vince slipped his hand around her nape, keeping her in place as

he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced her lips and she opened for him easily, his tongue thrusting in,
tangling with hers. She moaned low, her hands falling to his broad shoulders so she could grip him
tight. The more he kissed her, the dizzier she felt, and she needed to grab onto something so she
wouldn’t fall to the floor.

His lips had that strong of an effect on her.
They continued to kiss, breaking apart only to remove clothing before they were colliding against

each other once again. She felt drunk, her head spinning, and she knew it had nothing to do with the
glass and a half of wine she drank at dinner. It was from Vince’s touch, his mouth, his tongue. The
things he whispered in her ear, the reverent way he removed her clothing, his gaze never leaving hers.
The touch of his fingers upon her flesh burned her, searing her straight through, and the storm grew
within her. Gathered and formed within her until he was all she could think about, all she could feel
and see.

Only Vince could calm this passionate storm sweeping within her. She knew without a doubt he felt

the same way about her.

All thoughts of what Debbie said, how their relationship had been troubled, disappeared as her

husband guided her to the bed. She lay there for him, a willing sacrifice as he came over her clad only
in his boxer briefs, she in just a pair of panties. When his bare, hot skin pressed against hers she
swore they sizzled at first contact. She wanted to feel every bare inch of him, wanted him pushing
inside her, connecting them together, reminding her why she was with her husband in the first place.

Because she loved him. Wanted no one else but him. They were meant to be together. She might’ve

fought it before, during a time she flat out couldn’t remember, but she was finally okay with that.

She didn’t need to remember. She was too happy living the here and now. Their troubled past was

best kept where they were.

In the past.

He was a lucky, lucky man, to have such a sweet, giving woman as his wife. Just looking at her

made his chest hurt, his heart felt so full. Touching her made him feel alive. Kissing her made him
drunk. Stripping her clothes off, seeing the way she watched him, pleasure filling her eyes, in her
expressive face, made him feel like he could conquer the world.

And he could—with Amber by his side.
They connected tonight. They’d had their troubles since the accident, but they were minor in

comparison to the way they fought before. The last few days, he’d never felt closer to her. Tonight, at
this very moment, it was as if they were one.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear, then slid his lips along the length of her elegant neck.

She arched her head back, giving him better access as he licked and sucked the delicate skin. His
hands wandered over her naked body, cupping her breasts, circling her hard nipples with his finger.

Amber whimpered and he caught the sounds with his lips, kissing her deeply. He was hard, aching

for her, desperate to be inside her, but he wanted to make it good for her too. He moved down her
body, his mouth blazing a trail on her soft skin. Goose bumps dotted her flesh in his lips’ wake as he
followed the curve of first one breast, then another.

He licked and sucked her nipples, kissed across her flat stomach. She had such smooth skin and

gentle curves and she’d filled out since the accident. Her breasts were bigger, her hips wider, and he
loved how womanly she’d become.

His woman. All his.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, her voice husky with passion.
His cock hardened even more, if possible, at the sound of her words. He wanted the same. To be

buried deep inside her, pounding within her body, connecting them in a way he wasn’t linked to
anyone else in this world. His love for Amber grew and grew until it nearly overwhelmed him.

“I should grab a condom,” he muttered, reaching for the bedside table drawer.
Amber grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping him. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Vince reared up so he could look at her, his knees straddling either side of her hips. “Are you

sure?” he asked, feeling the fool for asking. But they’d never had sex without a condom before. The
Amber of before would’ve never chanced it. The Amber of before had also been on birth control, but
since the accident, she hadn’t taken any.

He knew she was afraid of becoming pregnant, that she believed she wasn’t ready. But now…
“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life.” She smiled, the sight of it sending a

current of emotion streaming through his body. “Besides when I knew I wanted to marry you.”

Ah God, she would kill him with words. He collapsed on top of her, kissing her, consuming her,

his cock hard against her soft belly. She wrapped her long legs around his hips, hooking herself to
him, and he adjusted himself, thrusting deep inside her.

Connecting them. Just as he’d wished for.
She cried out with every hard thrust, her head arched back on the pillow, hair spread out and eyes

closed. He watched her, his gaze never leaving her as he rocked into her body, her breasts moving
with his every push. He was relentless, consumed, desperate to power inside of her body, prove to
her that he loved her, that they belonged together, that she was his.

And he was hers.
His name fell from her lips, and he reached between their clinging bodies, his fingers working her

clit, stroking it. Circling it. Her breathing accelerated as he increased his speed and she shattered
within seconds, her entire body shaking with her powerful orgasm.

Pride stretched through him, heady and strong, and he moved lazily within her welcoming, wet

body. He wanted to come but also wanted to draw out her pleasure, revel in it. Witness her wreckage
before she slowly pulled herself back together.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he gripped her hips with both hands and angled over her, still keeping

a lazy pace, enjoying the way her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted on a happy sigh.

“You feel so good,” she whispered, stretching beneath him. “I love the way you move inside of

me.”

He withdrew almost completely from her body, holding himself there for long seconds before he

pushed deep. Deeper, fucking her again and again, his mind blank, his body focused on only seeking

its pleasure until he erupted with a roar inside her. Sending her into another orgasm that had her
clinging to him, her nails running sharp trails down his back. He breathed heavily in her ear, ran his
hand over the top of her hair, the damp strands tangling between his fingers.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”
She hummed and turned to press her lips to his cheek. “I love you too.” She paused, a giggle

escaping. “You’re such a beast.”

He chuckled as well, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “Did I move too quick? I felt a little…

overcome.”

Amber pushed at his shoulders so he had no choice but to lift up. “I came twice. I don’t think you’ll

hear me protesting you were too quick.”

Bending down, he nuzzled her cheek, inhaled her scent. She was like a drug. He was addicted to

his wife.

And he loved it. Loved her.
He didn’t want to spoil the moment, but…
“We took a risk, you know,” he said, suddenly feeling very serious. “Not using condoms,” he

explained when he noticed her frown.

Her expression cleared at his words. “I’m not worried about that.”
“You’re not?” Now it was his turn to frown.
“If it happens, it happens.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it.”
“Really?”
Smiling, she reached up and caressed his cheek. “Really.” Her touch was gentle. Arousing. Even

though he was spent. Exhausted. He still wanted her.

Always.

Chapter Fourteen

Two months later
“So what’s been going on, darling? You’ve been quiet lately.”
“I’m sick. Well, I’ve been sick. Thought I’d be over it by now.” Amber propped her elbows on the

table and held her head in her hands. She hadn’t felt right in days, figured it was the stomach flu that
had been going around lately. She knew Stasia and the kids had been miserable with it last week and
figured she caught the bug from her.

“Sick, hmm? When my girls gain weight and feel nauseous I always take it as a sign that they’re

pregnant,” Debbie Kaye said with all the authority of a sage.

Amber jerked her head up, staring at Debbie silently. No way. No freaking way. “I can’t be,” she

said, her voice firm. Because there was zero chance she could be. She shouldn’t get pregnant the first
time they had unprotected sex. No way could it happen that fast.

Right?
“Why not?” Debbie shrugged. They were at lunch at a crowded little bistro not far from the agency.

They usually met at least once a week. And every time they did, Debbie was always trying to sink her
claws into Amber and pull her back into the world of modeling. Debbie wanted her working despite
Amber’s reluctance to have plastic surgery on her face. She wasn’t going to do it and it didn’t bother
Debbie at all.

However she could get Amber, she’d take her, scars and all.
She had no desire to work as a model anymore. Forget it. She had enough money and she had her

husband’s support. Her parents were doing all right. Dad was still in rehab and Mom was working
hard but not struggling.

Life was good. Simple. She was madly in love with her husband, they spent lots of time together

and she couldn’t ask for a better, more supportive man by her side. She considered herself lucky.

Incredibly lucky.
“I couldn’t be pregnant,” Amber finally said, grabbing the glass of ice-cold water in front of her

and taking a sip. It felt good going down her parched throat. She was always thirsty lately, but never
hungry.

Her stomach lurched at the mere thought of food. This lunch was going to be torture. The scents

floating in the air already had her wrinkling her nose, her stomach doing a slow roil.

“Again, why not?” Debbie stirred sweetener into her iced tea, the spoon clanking against the

interior of the glass with every circle. The sound set Amber’s teeth on edge and she pressed her lips
together to keep from snapping at Debbie to knock it off. “I’m sure you and that gorgeous husband of
yours do it as much as possible. I know I wouldn’t be able to resist his swarthy, gorgeous Italian
looks and that yummy accent. You can’t keep your hands off of each other, hmmm?”

Amber had no words because Debbie was right. Vince made love to her almost daily. Their nights

consisted of them going to bed early, but there was rarely sleeping involved. Not until hours later,
after their tangled bodies were limp and sated from continuous lovemaking.

She and Vince were both caught up in a heady haze of love and lust, and she had no regrets either.

Her attentive husband cherished her and made her feel like a princess, a woman he desired and loved
unconditionally. But a baby? They’d only just started trying, and it was a halfhearted effort at best.

“I’m getting over a stomach flu. My sister-in-law and niece just had it last week. I think they gave it

to me and it’s still lingering. You know how that stuff is. It’s so hard to kick, especially this time of
year.”

“Uh huh.” Debbie sounded doubtful. “My darling, when was the last time you had a period?”
Amber shrugged, uneasiness settling over her. She didn’t remember, truthfully. “I don’t know, but it

really doesn’t matter. I’m irregular. I can never count on it.”

“And do you use protection during all of those hot and sexy moments with your hot and sexy

husband?” Debbie raised a brow, a smug smirk on her face.

Sometimes yes, sometimes no, not that Amber was willing to share that bit of information either.

They were so informal about it, how they treated birth control. Both of them wanted a baby but
figured it would take months. “You’re asking terribly personal questions,” she said primly, feeling
like a prude.

Debbie laughed so loud other people at the nearby tables turned to look at her. Amber wanted to

slide under the table in embarrassment. “We used to have terribly personal discussions all the time.
This is nothing new.”

Amber swallowed hard, trying to push the new wave of nausea away. She didn’t like Debbie’s

personal questions. So what if they used to talk like this all the time? They hadn’t since Amber had
her accident, and that was nearly three months ago. Yet Debbie still pushed, always wanting more
information from her. Such intimate details too. Why, Amber wasn’t sure.

She didn’t understand Debbie’s motives. At all.
“I’ve been sick,” Amber said firmly, not wanting to pursue the conversation anymore. “Like I said,

it’s just lingering. Stasia had the same issue. She was miserable for days and she couldn’t shake it.
I’ll be fine soon, I’m sure. Probably need more fluids or something.”

“Whatever you say. I just don’t want to lose you to such a mundane thing as having a baby. You

still have a flourishing career, you know.” The tone of her voice said she didn’t believe a word
Amber said, and Debbie flitted her hand, dismissing the conversation like she was wont to do. Good.
Amber was eager to change the subject too. “So. I must tell you. This is such juicy gossip and I know
you’ll relish it as much as I did.” Debbie paused dramatically before the words rushed out of her.
“Annika lost her contract a few days ago. They caught her snorting lines in the bathroom during a
photo shoot. They suspected she was high because she could hardly hold her head up while the
photographer was shooting, so he sent someone into the bathroom when she stayed in there too long.
Her nostrils were coated with the white stuff. Contract, gone. Just like that.” Debbie snapped her
fingers. “They were sick of her behavior. She’s been up to no good for far too long. What that girl
needs is a long stint in rehab.”

Amber could sometimes appreciate a bit of juicy gossip here and there, but she had no idea who

Annika was. So it rendered the news kind of pointless. “Should I care about this?” She sounded like a
bitch, but she disliked how eager Debbie was to spread vicious gossip about the models. She was
supposed to be everyone’s confidant. Not the one spreading horrible stories about them.

Debbie looked aghast. She even rested her hand on her chest. “Should you care about this? Why,

absolutely! That sneaky little bitch Annika stole this contract from you. She knew how badly you
wanted it and went straight to the CEO of the company. One minute we firmly believed you had it and
the next, she’s the new face of Adore You perfume.” She grimaced. “Of course, then we heard she fell
to her knees and gave him a blowjob. With promises of multiple blowjobs to come.”

Disgust filled Amber. “Please don’t tell me I gave a blowjob to the CEO to try to land the contract

too.”

“Of course not,” Debbie snapped. “I mean, that’s up to you if you want to service anyone without

Vince knowing. It could be our dirty little secret, because you know you can trust me, darling. But no.
You’ve never done anything like that. Not that I know of, that is.” Debbie winked.

Gross. She wouldn’t doubt for a minute that Debbie wouldn’t bother stopping her if she did want to

give some random CEO or photographer a blowjob if it helped further her career. And Amber could
trust Debbie just about as far as she could throw her, which wasn’t very far at all. “I would never do
that sort of thing,” Amber said firmly. “I would be a fool to risk my relationship with my husband.”

“Hmm. A few months ago you wouldn’t have given a crap about your husband or your relationship

with him. He was driving you crazy.” Debbie put on an innocent look as she sipped from her iced tea.

“You keep saying that.” Amber stared hard at Debbie, willing away the wave of nausea threatening

to take over yet again. She needed to say this. Needed to get her feelings off her chest. “I know you
miss the old me. I know you wish I would come back and work for you. That I would return to my
snarky, bitter self so we could laugh at people and gossip and be mean together. But I’m not that
person anymore. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I wish you would understand. I’m happy just
as I am. I don’t want to change back into the old me.”

Debbie smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, tapping her chin with her index finger, her

blood red nail stark against her pale, pale skin. “Someday the old you will come back, Amber. And
you’ll be shocked. Positively shocked at what you’ll discover. Life isn’t as sweet and rosy as you
think it is.”

“Why are you so determined to make my life miserable?” Amber asked incredulously. She really

didn’t get why.

The smile Debbie wore grew into a full on grin. “Because misery loves company?”

Vince was worried. And suspicious. Amber had been sick for a few days and every time he tried to

broach the subject, she blew him off, insisting she had the stomach flu. So what if his sister and her
kids had suffered through it? He had other things on his mind.

He suspected his wife was pregnant with their baby.
The mere thought thrilled him beyond measure. He wanted a child with Amber. Loved the idea of

them starting a family together. She was young, but so was he, and he’d always not-so-secretly
dreamed of having a big family like the one he grew up in. Hell, he’d have even more children. Five
or six sounded ideal to him.

Amber would have a coronary if he so much as whispered such a thing to her, especially the

Amber he knew before the accident. He spoke of having one child and she flipped out.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she was in denial. They’d recently talked of having a child. She’d

been receptive to it and had halfheartedly made a few attempts by not using birth control. But they
weren’t consistent. Sometimes he wore a condom and sometimes he didn’t. He always followed her
lead when they were having sex since she was the indecisive one when it came to babies.

Deep down, he believed she was pregnant. He just didn’t know how he’d approach the subject.

She was so sensitive lately. Besides her feeling awful and her skin having a tinge of green to it since
she was plagued with nausea, she was also dealing with the aftereffects of her amnesia. Retrograde
amnesia, they call it. She’d been steadily going to the psychologist and it was helping.

But she still didn’t remember their argument that happened before the accident. He knew it was

wrong, being happy about that. He hoped she never remembered and he’d done enough Internet
research to know that was a possibility.

Amber also met with her former modeling agent for lunch at least once a week and that…didn’t

make him happy at all. He didn’t like Debbie Kaye, he never had. He knew the feeling was mutual

too. He always felt like Debbie was jealous of him and possessive of Amber. That feeling hadn’t left
him either. He knew Debbie had dropped hints that his and Amber’s marriage had been rocky, his
wife had let him know, but Amber had told Debbie more than once she didn’t care about that. She
was living in the present, not the past.

Thank Christ for that.
The door opened and he turned to watch Amber enter the apartment quietly. She leaned against it

and closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. She looked better than she had in days. There was
color in her cheeks and when she opened her eyes, he noticed they didn’t look as dull and uneasy as
they had when she was feeling so bad.

“Have a good lunch?” he asked from where he sat on the couch.
She glanced in his direction, a relieved smile curling her lips as she pushed away from the door

and started toward him. “It was okay. I really didn’t eat much. I didn’t feel well.”

“Still feeling sick to your stomach?” He let his gaze wander along the length of her, taking in her

long, sexy legs clad in black leggings. She wore an oversized cream sweater, her long hair pulled
back in a simple ponytail, her face bare of makeup save for a slick of gloss on her lips.

She was beautiful. Stunning. His heart stuttered every time he looked at her.
“A little.” She stopped before him, an unsure expression on her face as she nibbled on her lower

lip. “Debbie flat out said I was probably pregnant.”

Well. Guess he didn’t need to approach the subject after all. Keeping his face neutral, he asked,

“Do you think you could be pregnant?”

Shrugging, she reached inside her purse, which still hung from her shoulder, and pulled out a small

white-and-pink box. “Maybe. I’m going to take this test and find out for sure.”

Excitement rippled through his veins and he stood, grasping her shoulders and bending his head so

he could stare directly into her eyes. “Are you okay with that? The possibility that you’re pregnant?
Be honest, Amber. I know you’ve said before that you want to start a family, but maybe when you’re
faced with the reality of it…”

She remained quiet, studying him, her expression solemn, her gaze full of a myriad of emotions.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

He took her into his arms and held her tight, his face buried in her hair as he smoothed his hands up

and down her back in a comforting gesture. “I am too, sweetheart. But this is a good fear. Having a
baby, creating a family together, it’s a good thing.”

“Listen to you. We don’t even know if I’m pregnant for sure,” she said, her voice muffled against

his neck as she emitted a tiny sob.

“Sshh.” His fingers tangled in her hair and he kissed her forehead. “We could find out in minutes if

you go and take that test.”

She stilled in his arms, a little sniff escaping her before she slowly pulled away. He let her go,

knowing that she was conflicted, worried, frightened. He knew because he felt the same exact way.

“I’m going to take the test right now. We should know the results within five minutes,” she said as

she clutched the box in her hand. “What if I am, Vince? What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to celebrate,” he said simply.
She rolled her eyes, a little smile teasing her lips. Exactly the reaction he was hoping for with his

answer. “And what if I’m not pregnant? What then?”

“Then we try again. And we keep trying until you finally become pregnant.” He kept his voice

calm, wanting her to be reassured that he would be happy no matter the outcome.

“I’m sure you look forward to the baby-making part of this situation, hmm?”

“Any time I have you naked in my bed, I’m happy, sweetheart.” He took a step toward her,

caressing her cheek before letting his hand drop. “Now go take your test. Let’s get this over with.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, that little unsure smile still curling her lips. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” He kissed her quickly then swatted her butt, making her laugh. She darted off to the

bathroom, the test still clutched in her hand, her purse still dangling from her shoulder. She closed the
door behind her and he waited.

His arms crossed in front of him, tapping his toes nervously on the hard tile floor, he waited. Heard

the toilet flush, heard the faucet being turned on. Still no Amber, no word, no crying, no laughter, no
sound coming from within the bathroom at all until finally, finally the door opened.

Amber appeared, her expression glazed, the test dangling from her fingers. She held it out to him,

her hand shaking, making the test shake too, but he saw the results. Saw the double pink line, which
indicated that she was indeed pregnant.

With a shout, he grabbed hold of her by the waist and twirled her around in his arms, making her

gasp and laugh. He laughed in return, clutching her close, a confusing combination of relief and joy
and panic and euphoria overwhelming him.

“I’m so happy,” he murmured when he came to a stop, letting her body slide down along his until

her feet settled on the floor. “So very happy. This is good news.”

“Is it?” she asked, sounding unsure. “Is it really?”
“Oh yes.” He pressed his hand against her cheek, gently forcing her to look up at him. “It is

definitely good news. The best news ever. You’ve made me an incredibly happy man.”

“And you, my husband, have made me an incredibly happy woman.” She clutched him close, her

face pressed against his neck and he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his woman in his arms.

Savoring the feeling of learning that he was about to become a father for the first time.
This was a momentous day. One he would never forget.
Ever.

Chapter Fifteen

“I’m pregnant.”
Dr. Harris regarded Amber with a neutral expression, peering over the top of her glasses as she

watched her. “How do you feel about that?”

Amber blew out a harsh breath. “Excited. Scared. Happy. Nervous.”
The psychologist offered her a gentle smile. “All normal reactions, especially considering your

situation.”

“My situation?” Amber asked, frowning. What did she mean by that?
“Well, you’ve suffered a traumatic brain injury on top of other physical injuries in a car accident.

You’ve quit working as a model, giving up on a career that greatly fulfilled you.”

God, she made it sound like Amber was making a huge mistake by having a baby. At the very least,

it made her question her situation. “I also reconnected with my husband and now my marriage is
stronger than ever.”

“Which is a wonderful thing, I agree.”
They both remained quiet, to the point that Amber started to squirm in her seat. “Our marriage is so

strong that we’re creating a family,” Amber continued.

“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t mind that I’m giving up my career.”
A single brow rose. Dr. Harris was really good at that. “Are you sure?”
“Why would you say that?”
“You make that statement often, that you don’t mind that your career is over. As if you need to

convince yourself,” the psychologist said carefully. “You meet with your former agent quite often, at
least once a week? And then complain that you don’t like how Debbie hounds you to come back.”

“I don’t like how she gushes over me, basically begging me to model again,” Amber admitted.
“Then why do you continue to meet with her? If you don’t like it, stop seeing her. It’s as simple as

that.”

Problem was, it didn’t feel that simple. There was something reassuring in having that contact from

her past. Debbie linked her to the person Amber was before and she liked that. Yes, Vince linked her
to that past self as well, but it was different. She was different with Vince.

“Debbie makes me feel safe. That I have options,” Amber murmured. “If it doesn’t work out with

Vince, I know I could go right back to modeling if I needed to, even though I really don’t want to.”

“And you like having options.”
“Growing up, I never really did.” Amber shrugged. “Dealing with my father…and how my mother

enabled him. I felt like I was trapped there. Modeling got me out, allowed me to travel and make
money.”

“It allowed you to be free,” Dr. Harris pointed out. “And you like that. Your freedom.”
“You’re right. I do,” Amber said, staring at her hands curled in her lap but not really seeing them.

“Sometimes I worry my marriage to Vince will make me feel…trapped. I wonder if that’s what I
dealt with before. If that’s why our marriage was so rocky.”

“Could be.” Dr. Harris shifted in her seat, re-crossing her legs. “We haven’t talked about this in a

while. Do you still wish you could remember that time of your life?”

“Absolutely. It drives me nuts that I can’t remember. I haven’t talked about it in a while because the

memory loss frustrates me so much.” She mourned that loss. More than anything, she didn’t talk about
it because Vince always seemed so reluctant to talk about it as well.

So she left it alone. It was easier that way.
“I have dreams sometimes…” Amber hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. What was a therapist for

if she couldn’t confess something like this? She’d never told anyone about the bad dreams she’d had
lately, especially not Vince. “They’re of my husband and I fighting.”

“Really?” She sounded completely neutral, but Amber had been going to her long enough to pick up

on when Dr. Harris was interested in something she had to say. “What happens?”

“Well, it’s always the same thing.” Amber sat up straighter, leaning against the arm of the

overstuffed chair she was sitting in. “Vince is chasing me along a crowded street and he’s yelling my
name over and over. At first he sounds so mad. Then he just sounds…scared.” Pressing her lips
together, she gathered up her courage to reveal the rest. “When he finally reaches me, I turn to face
him and he gives me a look of such disgust I shrink away from him. Then he grabs me by the shoulders
and he—he shoves me into the street. Right in front of a car.”

“Oh.”
Amber nodded, that one little sound her therapist emitted showing her just how shocked Dr. Harris

was at her reveal. “I always wake up after the shove, though. It never goes beyond that.”

“You don’t think…” The psychologist paused, as if considering her words. “You don’t believe

your husband might’ve pushed you in front of the car, do you? That he might’ve tried to hurt you on
purpose? Because if he did…”

“No,” Amber said quickly, wanting to rush to her husband’s defense. “First of all, I’m sure

witnesses would’ve stepped forward and said something. Second, Vince loves me. He would never
do anything to hurt me.” Of course he wouldn’t. She had no doubt of that whatsoever.

“Okay. I agree with you after everything you’ve told me. But, Amber.” Dr. Harris leveled her with

a look, her eyes narrowed, her mouth thin. “If you ever suspected any such thing, I want you to tell me
immediately. Do you understand? I’m watching out for your safety.”

Amber laughed, though it sounded nervous so she clamped her lips shut. “That’ll never happen, Dr.

Harris.”

Never. She was that sure of it.

“Why, Vince. What a pleasant surprise,” Debbie Kaye drawled as she entered his and Amber’s

apartment.

Vince shut the door behind her just as she turned to face him, a fake smile plastered on her face. He

would’ve slammed the door on her the moment he caught sight of her standing there, but she’d barged
her way in, not giving him a chance to think, let alone try to close the door.

“Funny you call it a surprise when you’re the one who’s come to my home,” he stressed the word

my, wanting her to know he wasn’t pleased that she was in his house.

Because he wasn’t.
“I was hoping Amber was here.” She strode toward the living area, craning her neck as if in search

for Vince’s wife. “Yoo hoo, Amber darling,” Debbie called. “Come out, come out, wherever you
are.”

“She’s not here,” Vince said through clenched teeth, wishing he could banish this woman to the

deep, dark recesses in another world. He couldn’t stand the woman.

“Well. Where is she?” She whirled on him again, her hand resting on her chest, her eyes full of

shock. Such bullshit. The woman was a Class A actress. Otherwise known as a complete phony.

“She’s at her weekly appointment with her therapist.” He knew Debbie was aware of this. They’d

all been keeping a schedule these last few months and they rarely deviated from it unless Debbie was
out of town.

“Right, right.” She tapped her pursed lips with her finger, her shiny black nail polish glinting in the

light. “So I suppose congratulations are in order?”

“They are,” he said coolly, not moving fully into the living room. He hoped she wouldn’t get too

comfortable. He wanted her out of here. “Thank you,” he added, hating to sound even a hint of grateful
for anything this woman did or said to him.

“So sweet. A bouncing little gorgeous baby. What with you two as parents, the kid can’t go

wrong.” Debbie waved a hand, as if dismissing her words and settled on his couch, making herself
very comfortable.

Hell. There went his idea of getting rid of her quick. He entered the living room and settled in a

chair across from Debbie. He’d be damned if he offered her something to drink or eat like a polite
host would. He wasn’t polite, especially toward this woman. He kept his cool for his wife’s sake.
“It’ll be a while before Amber returns.”

She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Are you trying to get rid of me, darling?”
Well, she asked for it. “Yes.”
Debbie threw back her head and laughed, the sound grating on Vince’s nerves. Every single thing

about this woman drove him absolutely crazy. He flat out couldn’t stand her. “I love your brutal
honesty. It’s so attractive. Are all Italian men like you?”

“My brothers are.”
“Any of them available?” A hungry gleam lit her eyes.
Thank Christ that would be a no. “They’re both married.”
“Too bad.” She made a tsking noise and shook her head. “I was always so incredibly…jealous that

Amber snagged you so quickly. You are quite a handsome man, Vincenzo Renaldi.”

Holy hell, where was this woman going with her comments? Somewhere decidedly uncomfortable,

that’s all he knew. “Debbie, what is it you want, exactly?”

“Why, just to spend time with you, Vince. I rarely see you. It’s such a shame.” Debbie practically

batted her eyelashes at him, which made him want to roll his eyes but he restrained himself. “I’ve
missed you.”

“We barely know each other. And we barely tolerate each other…for Amber’s sake,” he pointed

out, going for brutal truth again. The woman deserved it. She’d taken their conversation on a
decidedly weird turn and he had no time for such games.

“Again with the honesty. I find it so incredibly refreshing. Amber is a lucky, lucky girl.” She leaned

forward, as if she was about to share a delicious secret. “So tell me. Does Amber know the truth of
your relationship yet?”

Unease slipped down Vince’s spine, leaving his skin ice cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Before the car accident? All the dirty details she’s so conveniently forgotten? Does she know the

truth yet, Vince? Have you told her? Honesty is the best policy, you know,” she practically sing-
songed.

“We had our—troubles,” he reluctantly admitted. “But that was all. Nothing that we couldn’t fix,

and we fixed them.”

“Nothing that a little amnesia couldn’t fix, more like. That’s the best cure,” she said, breaking out

into a big grin again.

He wanted to slap that smile right off her face. “Are you trying to threaten me? Force me to do

something? Because if that’s the case, you may as well leave right now.”

Her smile turned dark, almost menacing. “I’m not that cruel, darling. But I will say, you should tell

your sweet little Amber the truth. That your marriage was this close to divorce, and your wife was
tempted to stray. She’d confessed to me more than once her suspicions that you cheated on her all the
time.”

Anger heated his blood and made him clench his fists. The most frustrating part? He didn’t know if

what Debbie was saying was the truth or not. Had Amber ever said something like that to her? Or was
it all lies in the hopes that he would become angry? “Get out,” he gritted from between his teeth.
“You’re not welcome here.”

“I’m sure Amber would beg to differ,” Debbie purred as she stood, her expression indignant.
“It doesn’t matter because Amber isn’t here.” He followed Debbie to the front door, nearly

growling when she turned and caused him to bump into her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Goodness, you’re solid muscle.” Debbie reached out, slipped her hand along his right shoulder.

He stepped away from her, disgusted at her touch, at the way she looked at him, like he was a tasty
piece of meat and she was positively starving. “I bet you give Amber a thorough workout every
night.”

“You’re disgusting,” he snarled. “Get out.”
He didn’t understand her motives. She claimed to be a friend of Amber’s. That she only wanted the

best for his wife and her career. So why would she come on to him so strongly? She seemed
determined to break them up, which he didn’t understand.

But of course, without him in the picture, she could have Amber all to herself.
Debbie laughed. “And you’re a sensitive thing, aren’t you? Goodness, I can’t even offer you a

compliment before you get all huffy.”

The woman tested his very patience. Throwing open the door, he pointed the direction in which he

wanted her to go—out. “Goodbye, Debbie.”

“Ta ta, darling. Wish I could’ve stayed longer. Give Amber my regards, will you?” She exited his

apartment in a rush, leaving behind an overpowering cloud of perfume in her wake. Grimacing, he
slammed the door behind her, pissed that he let her inside.

Angrier that he let her words get to him so thoroughly, just as she’d planned.
The doubt that hung over him had much to do with his own dishonesty with his wife. They were

happy. They were going to have a child, for the love of God, and he still couldn’t tell her what really
happened just before her accident. Someday, she could remember.

Someday, she could come home furious with him that he never told her the truth. He didn’t know

what he would do if that day ever came.

That was why he needed to beat it to the punch. He needed to come clean and confess. She

wouldn’t be mad. Enough time had gone by now and their love was so strong, she would surely
forgive him. She had to.

He needed her to.

Chapter Sixteen

“Where are you taking me tonight, Mr. Renaldi?” Amber flashed Vince a coquettish look over her

bare shoulder, just before she slipped inside the car he’d hired for tonight.

He followed her into the backseat of the car, inhaling her subtle, sweet scent. “It’s a surprise.”
“Ooh, I love surprises.” She clasped her hands together and leaned into him, brushing a soft kiss to

his cheek. “You’ve been extra attentive lately.”

“I want to make sure you’re feeling well.” She seemed to be in better spirits and health. She was

just three months along, she’d gained a little weight, though she really wasn’t showing yet, and there
was healthy color in her cheeks.

Many said she was downright glowing, which he couldn’t help but agree with. His wife had never

looked more beautiful than she did at this very moment. He could only assume she would become
more gorgeous as every month passed, until she was ripe with their child.

He couldn’t wait.
Vince was also pleased that she’d distanced herself from Debbie Kaye. He’d told his wife of

Debbie’s visit, how overly familiar she’d been. When he’d told his wife about the unexpected visit,
he then asked Amber not to say anything to Debbie, which she agreed to. She’d also become so
disgusted at the entire idea of her former agent coming on to her husband, she’d told Vince she was
done. No more lunches, no more phone calls, no more texts. She wanted nothing to do with Debbie
ever again.

And he was glad for it.
The one thing he hadn’t done yet…still…was confess what happened that afternoon before she was

hit by the car. That would all change tonight, though. He fully planned on telling her. First, he was
taking her to her favorite restaurant for an intimate dinner. Then, he would take her to the building that
he’d recently purchased an unfinished apartment in.

It was a beautiful building, a desired location for both of them, and the apartment was a third larger

than their current place. They needed the room for the baby, even though she’d protested when he first
broached the subject with her. She liked living in their apartment, she’d said with a little pout.
Weren’t their lives changing enough?

Yes, but this change was for the better. Why wouldn’t she want a bigger home that she could design

in any way she wanted?

Once he took her to the new apartment, that was when he planned on letting her know about the day

of the accident. He needed to get the truth off his chest once and for all. She would be so happy, so
blissful over the meal and the new home and all the wonderful things happening in their lives, no way
could she be angry with him.

That was his plan, at least.
“I’m hungry,” she murmured once the car pulled away from the curb and immediately got stuck in

the busy downtown Manhattan traffic. “I hope you’re taking us somewhere good. My appetite is off
the charts lately.” It had done a recent switch, of which she was thankful for. She rubbed a hand over
her still mostly nonexistent stomach. “Greedy little baby.”

He chuckled and placed his hand over hers, caressing her gently. “You’re going to like where I

take you.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing. “Ooh, that sounds promising.”

“That’s because it is. After dinner, I have another surprise for you too.”
His wife practically bounced in her seat. “I can’t wait.”
Smiling, he pulled her in close, kissing her, his blood heating at her murmur of pleasure. Once

she’d gotten over the constant morning sickness, Amber had become a different woman. Leaving
Debbie behind, shedding everything from her old life had changed her too.

All for the better.
The car soon pulled up in front of her favorite Italian restaurant—one of the only restaurants he

could tolerate since its food truly was authentic and he was incredibly picky—and Amber emitted a
little squeal. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” she asked as she stared out the car window at the
restaurant before them.

Laughing, he smoothed his hand over her shoulder, tangling his fingers in her hair. “Trying to make

sure you and our baby are well fed.”

“I’m going to get my grub on, I hope you know,” she said, her tone completely serious.
Which made him laugh even more. “I can’t wait.”

The fine cuisine at La Luna Ristorante was the most divine Italian food she’d ever had. The food

was rich and spicy and oh-so-flavorful, and she indulged completely, not even caring how many
calories she was consuming as she devoured piece after piece of the restaurant’s famous garlic bread.
The pasta dish she ordered for dinner, one of the chef’s well-known creations that was exclusive to
the restaurant, was a decadent treat. Vince had even gone so far to order dessert, but at least they
were sharing it.

She was so stuffed, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get out of her chair. How would it be

when she started to show with her pregnancy? She’d be a waddling, overstuffed whale at the rate she
was going.

It was a relief, not dealing with the morning sickness anymore. And the term “morning sickness”

was bogus. More like morning, noon and night sickness—it didn’t matter what time of day it was,
she’d felt awful. She’d taken to carrying ginger pills with her everywhere she wanted to stave off the
constant nausea.

Now, though, she felt good. She was at the beginning of the second trimester, her stomach was

starting to swell, though not by much, and her husband was as attentive and loving as ever. Maybe
even more so.

Amber finally felt good, confident and secure in her marriage, with her life. She was going to be a

mother. She had a strong, sexy husband by her side and she loved him. She may have given up her
modeling career, but she was okay with that. Mostly. Her focus had shifted toward her growing
family.

Her cell phone suddenly rang and she grabbed it from where she left it on the table, checking the

screen to see that it was her mother. Speaking of family…

“Hi, Mom,” she said cheerily when she answered.
“Amber.” Her mom breathed heavily into the receiver. “Your father. He’s left the rehabilitation

center.”

Panic rose within Amber and she tried her best to tamp it down. After all these years of dealing

with her father’s problems, she thought she’d be used to it by now. “When? Where is he?”

“He left…” Her mom swallowed audibly. “Well, it was almost a week ago.”
“What?” Amber practically shrieked, causing her husband to look at her questioningly. She

mouthed, It’s my mom , and he nodded in understanding. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked,

lowering her voice so she wouldn’t make a scene. “You should’ve called right away. The minute you
found out he walked out of the center.”

He’d done this before. Her father was stubborn and always believed he knew best. A few weeks,

even a few days without alcohol, and he figured he had all his bad habits kicked. He’d been to
countless rehab centers, especially these last few years once she started earning good money and took
care of the bill.

But he rarely completed his treatments. Amber had been tempted to refuse to help him more than

once, but it was so hard. He was her father. Family. Blood. Guilt would consume her every time she
tried tough love on him.

Her life could’ve been downright perfect if she didn’t have to deal with her dad and mom all the

time.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” her mother whined, making Amber wince. More than anything, her

mother was good at making Amber feel guilty. “You’re so busy all the time. First with all your
modeling and traveling, now with your husband and the baby coming. I’m a nuisance, I know. You
don’t have time for me and all our problems.”

Here came the guilt again. “Mom, stop. You’re never a nuisance.” She sent Vince a look when she

caught him studying her from across the table.

“Whatever. You know what I mean.” Her mom blew out a harsh breath. “I’m calling because I

found him and he swears he’s ready to go back into the center. The same one he just left. And I called
them, they’re willing to take him back, but they need more…money.” She stumbled over the last
word.

Amber closed her eyes, her mother’s request sinking in. She had money, a healthy amount of

savings that she’d recently discussed with Vince. She wanted his assistance in investing it so she
could make even more money.

She’d always liked being independent, and that much hadn’t changed.
But this…throwing away money on her father’s useless treatment when he would just go and buy a

bottle of vodka the second he got out—or escaped—rehab was pointless.

“Mom, I don’t know…” She started, a little sigh escaping her when she heard her mom break into

full-on sobbing.

“Please, Amber. He needs you. We both need you. I can’t afford to pay the extra fee, and I know

you can, honey. You’re good for it, right?”

Of course she was good for it. But she didn’t want to be good for it. She was tired of bailing out

her dad. How she wished he’d been the one who called her and not her mother. She’d have no
problem telling him off, letting him know how she really felt.

He did this on purpose, putting her mom up to it. Or her mom did it of her own accord since she

was so used to the pattern. Her mom was a complete enabler.

If she was being honest with herself, so was she.
“I need to discuss this with Vince first,” she offered haltingly, but her mom cut her off.
“When have you ever consulted him before? Aren’t you the one who was always so insistent that

you paid your own way? That you made your own money? I know working like you did all the time,
you must have a ton of money stashed somewhere. What’s another twelve thousand dollars with the
kind of money you make? That’s like chump change to you.”

“Twelve thousand?” Amber asked weakly, rubbing her forehead. That was so much money. She

could make herself sick to her stomach if she tried to figure out the exact amounts of money she’d
spent on her father’s so called recovery over the years. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Please,” her mother huffed. “I know you’ve got it.”
“Like I said, I want to talk to Vince first,” she said firmly, her gaze cutting to his. He regarded her

warmly, looking pleased that she would say such a thing. She’d bet she never consulted with him over
such matters before. He deserved that, at least.

She trusted him.
“I need it now.” Her mom’s voice turned ice cold. “Transfer it into my account like you do. Come

on, Amber. Time is ticking by, and who knows how long I can keep your dad in the house again?
What if he tries to escape?”

“I…” She wanted to say she didn’t care if he ran away. She’d almost prefer it if he did, not that

she’d ever admit such a thing to her mom. “You’re just going to have to keep an eye on him and give
me time. This is a huge decision. What if we come up with better options?”

“You would’ve suggested them by now,” her mom said.
Amber leaned her elbow onto the table, resting her head in her hands. Her mom just didn’t get it.

“I’ll call you later with my answer, okay?”

“How much later?”
“I don’t know!” Amber yelled, knowing she’d drawn the attention of more than a few people sitting

near by but not wanting to disturb them. “Just—be patient, okay? I need that from you right now.
Patience.”

“Fine.” Another harsh breath, as if she was trying her best to calm her raging nerves. “I will give

you twenty-four hours, that’s it. You better call me back with an answer.”

And with that, her mother hung up on her.

Chapter Seventeen

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful. Don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t.”
“You are everything to me. All mine.”
Amber frowned. His words were spoken with such passion, but they also scared her… “I don’t

want to leave you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He scowled. Her husband was so handsome, but at this very

moment, he appeared rather menacing. Almost…

Scary.
“I meant what I said. I don’t want to leave you. I love you.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders, so tightly she was afraid she might bruise. “You will never

leave me. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” She was indignant. Furious. How dare he say such a thing to her? “You

can’t tell me what to do. If I want to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No, you won’t.” He gave her a little shake. “You belong to me.”
She tore herself out of his grip and started running. Her heels clicked loudly on the sidewalk

and suddenly there were all of these people surrounding her. The crowd was thick and she ran
through it as best she could, shoving past them, ignoring their muttered protests.

It was imperative that she get away from her husband. He was scaring her. His words, the way

he was acting…it all felt like a threat.

“Amber!” he bellowed. “Come back here!”
She glanced over her shoulder, saw that he was chasing her. Gaining on her. Looking forward,

she saw the upcoming busy intersection and that the light was red. She’d have to wait before she
could cross and he would be able to completely catch up with her by then.

That was the last thing she wanted.
Hurrying her steps, she sprinted toward the intersection, surprised she could run so well in

heels. All that runway experience came in handy after all, didn’t it?

If she wasn’t so scared, she could almost laugh at her thoughts.
The light was still red when she reached the intersection and she glanced around, looking for

Vince, hoping the light changed soon. People stared at her, all of them faceless. Nameless. She
realized she couldn’t look in their eyes, shame filling her that they knew her husband was chasing
her. Trying to own her.

No one owned her. She was independent. She belonged to no one but herself.
“Did you really think you could get away from me?” Vince clamped his hand around her arm,

right in the crook of her elbow. He turned her to face him, his expression stormy as he stared at
her, his eyes so dark they were almost black.

“Stop it,” she said, her voice low, her entire body trembling at the way he looked at her,

touched her. He was angry. Furious, even. And she had no idea why.

What did she do? Why were they fighting? It made no sense.
“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re my wife. You belong to me.”
“I’m not a piece of property, Vince.” She pulled out of his grasp, turning toward the street. The

light was still red, the traffic not letting up at all and she glanced from left to right, wishing she

could dash across the street and escape her husband.

She pushed past the guilt and unease. It was wrong, wanting to get away from her husband. Her

parents. Her life. That’s how she felt lately. She was tired of dealing with everything. They all
wanted something from her, especially her mother. Making her demands and ultimatums. Who did
she think she was, trying to boss her around? Everyone tried to boss her around. Even Debbie
Kaye, and she was supposed to be her biggest ally.

It was a disappointment, how everyone treated her. But maybe it was her own fault. She allowed

everyone to treat her like this. She’d established a pattern and now it was coming back to haunt
her.

“I’m leaving you, Vince,” she said once she turned to face him again. “It’s over.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t leave me.”
“Oh yes.” She lifted her chin, feeling defiant. “I can.”
“Oh no.” He shook his head, a grim smile on his face. “You can’t.” He gripped her by the

shoulders, holding her tight, forcing her to look directly into his gaze. “If you think you can get
away from me, you have another thing coming. You will never be able to escape me. Ever.”

Her entire body shook at his words, at the way he was looking at her. Like he wanted to tear her

apart. “You can’t keep me. I’m not a possession.”

“You’re my possession and I never want you to forget it.” He leaned in closer, his face thrust in

hers. “If I can’t have you, no one can have you.”

She shook her head, panic swarming her. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because I won’t share you. Not with your career, not with Debbie, not with anyone.” He gave

her a little shove, causing her to stumble on her towering heels. It was like he didn’t even care.
“You either come with me or…”

“Or what?” Amber asked, cringing at the menace she saw in his eyes.
“Or…this.” He shoved her. Hard. Sending her stumbling backwards, teetering on the edge of

the sidewalk. She could hear the tangle of traffic directly behind her, actually feel the rush of the
vehicles as they sped past.

And then she felt nothing but air. Like she was flying backwards for a split second, hanging

there over nothing. She looked to her right, saw the car coming straight at her.

She screamed.

“My God, Amber. Are you all right?” Vince sat up in bed, hauling his sobbing, shaking wife into

his arms, holding her close. Her crying came from deep inside her, wracking her shoulders, her tears
leaving his neck damp as she cried against him.

She’d done this before. Had a terrible dream that woke them both up with her screaming and

crying. But she’d never been this loud, never this emotional. She was literally quaking in his arms,
her sobs heavy as she clung to him.

“Just a b-bad dream,” she stuttered, her voice muffled against his neck. “I keep having them lately.”
“What’s it about?” He ran his hand up and down her back in a slow, soothing gesture. That was

another thing. She never revealed what her dreams were about. Which left him speculating that they
were about him.

And he hated that.
“We were fighting. You were so…angry,” she confessed softly. She lifted her head, gazing up at

him, tears still shining in her pretty blue eyes. “I ran away from you and you, um, you tried to hurt
me.”

He frowned. “That’s awful.”
“I know. That’s what makes the dream so horrific. How mean you are in it. The entire scenario

feels so real.” She paused, chewing nervously on her lower lip. “I keep having variations of the same
dream. It always ends the same, though, bringing the car accident into it.”

“The car accident?” His frown deepened. “How?”
“I always wake up just before I get hit by a car.” Her gaze skittered away from his, and he

immediately sensed she was holding something back. But what? “I scream in the dream and I wake up
screaming too.”

“That’s awful.” He ran his hand over her hair, wanting to comfort her, wishing he could take all her

pain away. He figured tonight’s dream had to have been triggered by the phone call from her mother
requesting more money. He’d never understood how Amber’s parents had no qualms taking advantage
of her. And how Amber always gave in to their financial demands.

She’d given them a tremendous amount of money over the years, always supposedly to help her

father get treatment for his alcoholism but rarely did it work. All of the money wasted. It tore Amber
up and enraged him every single time, especially tonight.

Their special dinner had been ruined. He hadn’t even bothered to show her their new place. He

decided to save it for later. Amber had needed to talk, which they did the entire drive home and long
into the night while they lay in bed. No lovemaking, no celebrating over their new life. His plans had
gone straight to hell.

Not that it had been Amber’s fault, oh no. He put the blame squarely on her mother. He told Amber

to tell her no. She’d done enough for her family. It was time for her father to heal himself, not rely on
Amber to take care of him all the time. Not that he wanted to be taken care of.

But she’d cried, saying she felt guilty not doing anything. She had the financial means. She’d

confessed the reason she worked so hard for so long was to make money to help her family. He knew
she’d always wanted financial independence, but she’d never before admitted that she worked solely
to help her family. He knew she sent them money and that she’d financed her father’s rehab visits in
the past, but he’d never realized her entire career was all about supporting her family.

It made sense, though. Her mother had encouraged her to model from the start. She probably saw

the potential moneymaker her daughter could be and pursued it.

Disgusting. His opinion of his in-laws lowered as each day passed.
“I feel like my mind is trying to tell me what happened with the accident,” she went on to say,

interrupting his thoughts. “But so many things are still murky. I feel like it’s almost there, you know?
Like I see the signs, hints here and there. Other things are just so…terrible, that I hope they’re not
true.”

His skin prickled with unease. What was she referring to? She hadn’t told him everything.

Definitely not all the details from her constant nightmares. Did he play a bigger part in her dream than
what she was letting on?

“You’re going to be okay. You’ll make the right decision with your mom, and everything will work

out.” He kissed her forehead. “Trust me.”

“I’m going to give her the money,” she said, her voice small, her forehead pressed against his chin.
Vince moved away from her, shock and rage coursing through his blood. “What? Are you serious?

Why would you give it to her? Your father walked out of the clinic. He doesn’t want the treatment.
Why do you have to constantly foot that bill if it’s never going to work?”

“He’s my father, Vince. I know you were close to yours. I’m sorry I never got a chance to meet

him, but I bet you’d do anything to help him, right?” She implored him with her gaze, her earnest

expression. He knew she believed she was doing the right thing, but…

“At the expense of your mental health and bank account, though, Amber? You’re tossing money in

the trash every time you try to help that man. Your mom shouldn’t put this on you. It’s not fair,” he
said.

“Sometimes life isn’t fair. I have to be there for them. They have no one else, nothing else. They

supported me when I was young, so if I can help them, I will,” she explained.

“It was their job to support you since they’re your parents. And they put you to work as soon as

possible. You’ve been a model since your early teens,” he said. “Don’t you see that all they do is take
and take from you? It’s wrong, Amber. I hate how they take advantage of you.”

“They’re my family. Don’t you understand? I can’t just abandon them. They have nothing without

me.”

Vince remained quiet. He did understand where Amber was coming from. His family was

extremely important to him. Whatever it took, he would help them. But let them take constant
advantage?

That was a different story.
“I don’t want to fight about this.” He kissed her forehead again, then her cheek, until he finally

reached her lips. “I’m sorry, love. You do what you feel is right. If you’d rather I pay for it, I can.”

“No, Vince, I couldn’t do that.” She shook her head, her soft hair brushing against his face.
“Let me,” he whispered. “What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours. Let me ease your

burden.”

“It’s not a burden. My family is never a burden.” She faltered over the words and he knew she

wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with herself, but he let it lie. If she needed to believe that
her parents weren’t a constant emotional and financial drain on her, then so be it. He didn’t want to
argue with her. They were on each other’s side, not pitted against each other.

And he needed to remember that.

Chapter Eighteen

“I want to try to use a different approach,” Dr. Harris said, her hopeful expression filling Amber

with excitement.

“What do you have in mind?” Amber settled in her usual overstuffed chair, resting her purse on the

floor by her feet. They’d discussed trying to get Amber to remember the accident before, and at last
week’s appointment, her psychologist had mentioned she wanted to try something next week.

Looked like it was about to happen.
“I want you to try to relax and open your mind.”
Amber burst out laughing. “Sounds very New Age-y.” She had grown comfortable in her meetings

with Dr. Harris. They almost felt like two friends getting together to talk for an hour once a week.

“It sort of is,” Dr. Harris confirmed with a little smile. “Now, why don’t we have you lie down on

the couch?”

“You’re turning this into the clichéd therapist visit, aren’t you?” Amber stood and went to the

couch where she could stretch out and stare up at the ceiling.

“If you’re going to fight it, then this approach will never help you,” Dr. Harris said primly, making

Amber laugh some more.

“I’m sorry. You’re right.” She was feeling good, feeling confident. Maybe it didn’t matter if she

remembered or not what happened that fateful night. Yes, she still wanted to know and she
appreciated the help, but then again…what was the old saying? Ignorance is bliss?

Indeed.
So she allowed Dr. Harris to get her into position on the couch. Watched with quiet amusement as

she walked about the office and closed the blinds, lit a few candles and clicked on her iPhone so that
it played classical music on low. The mood was set. The moment was now.

But would it help?
“This will almost be like hypnotizing you, but not quite,” Dr. Harris said as she settled into her

usual chair, her voice low and soothing. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions and hopefully
lull your mind into opening completely, so it won’t be such a struggle when you fight to remember
what happened.”

“Sounds good,” Amber murmured. The music played gently in the background, she could already

smell the fragrant scent of the candles and suddenly, she was sleepy. As if she wanted to take a long,
delicious nap…

“Close your eyes,” Dr. Harris said, and Amber did so. “Think of your mind as if it was a tightly

furled rose, so close to bud but not quite. Soon your brain will open up as if it’s blooming. And once
it’s bloomed, you’re open to anything. Everything. All the thoughts. All the memories…”

She went on like this, speaking in a soft monotone, her voice lulling Amber just as she predicted.

Amber closed her eyes, losing herself in the words, in the memories. Her psychologist knew enough
about the accident, the dreams Amber had, to put together a tentative timeline of the day.

Debbie had given her lots of input too, all of it negative. Amber had told Dr. Harris everything.

And now she was relaying it all back to her, piece by piece, bit by bit.

“You argued with Vince. What about, you’re not sure, but he came to see you at the studio where

you were doing a photo shoot. He showed up unexpectedly and you weren’t happy to see him.” Dr.
Harris paused. “Why, Amber? Why were you so upset with your husband?”

Her mind opened. Slowly but surely. “We hadn’t spent much time together lately,” she murmured.

“He was angry. He demanded to see me, but I was busy. It didn’t matter to him that he was
interrupting my work. He never saw my career as important as his, and that hurt me.”

“Mmm-hmmm. Go on,” Dr. Harris prompted.
Amber said nothing for a few moments, quietly forcing her brain to expand even more. “I was

embarrassed when he showed up at the studio. I knew we would get into an argument and I didn’t
want everyone to watch it unfold. That’s why I left.”

“You left?”
“Yes.” Amber nodded, keeping her eyes closed. She felt…strange. As if she was lifting up, up

from her body and observing. As if she were watching the entire interaction between her and Vince
unfold, all over again at the studio. Like she stepped back into the past. “The sidewalk was so
crowded I hoped it would just swallow me up. I wanted to run away from him. It was too much
pressure. Vince demanded all of my time and my mom demanded all of my money. She’d called to tell
me about Dad’s treatment center and how she was afraid it wasn’t working.” Tears formed, clogging
her throat, threatening to spill from her eyes. “It never worked. I couldn’t help him and I felt lost.
With my dad, over my marriage. Nothing was working. The only thing that seemed to work was my
career, and Vince was trying to ruin that for me too.”

“How?” Dr. Harris asked.
“By getting me to quit. He wanted a family. He wanted to be with me. I was in such a panic, so

overwhelmed with everything coming at me at once that I said I wanted…” Her voice drifted and her
mind turned back to that day.

“You force me to act this way with your behavior. You don’t act like a true wife.”
Those words had hurt, more than she would’ve ever admitted. He didn’t believe she was a true

wife. And she couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Because I’m not a true wife! Not really. We married too quickly. It was all hot passion and

steamy nights and long, sweet talks, but it wasn’t real. More like a fantasy.” She was crying. She
could feel the wetness of her tears on her cheeks. “This isn’t working. I want a divorce, Vince.”

“I asked for a divorce. He’d been so angry, so confused and shocked and horrified. It…broke my

heart.” The tears streamed freely down her cheeks, but she ignored them, pushing on. “It was what I
thought was best, but as soon as the words came out, I immediately wished I could snatch them back.
It was too late, though.”

“Why was it too late?”
“I’m the one who really ignited the fight. Once I said that I wanted a divorce.” Amber paused, a

sob overtaking her and making it near impossible to speak. “Once I said I wanted a divorce,” she
repeated, “there was no going back.”

“Did you really want one?” Dr. Harris asked gently.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think so. I certainly don’t want one now.”
“Has he ever mentioned the divorce conversation to you?”
“No.” She can only imagine why he hadn’t. He’d kept that from her.
And she half couldn’t blame him…could she?

“She knows.”
Vince frowned, pulling his cellphone away from his ear to check the phone number again. He

didn’t recognize it, was surprised he answered it, but considering Amber’s condition, he answered
every call he received for fear it could be in regards to his wife. “Who is this?”

Mocking laughter answered him, and he knew in an instant who it was. “Debbie?”
“You’re so incredibly smart, Vince. Well, not when it comes to Amber, but yes. You’re a crafty

one. Sly as can be. I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t tell her about the divorce?” Debbie asked.

Dread sank his stomach to his toes. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He’d known this

was coming and had worried over it for months. From the moment Amber was hit and he realized she
had no memory of the accident or what happened before it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” she said, sounding as happy as if she won the lottery. “She called me after she got out of her

appointment with her therapist, full of so many questions. Has she called you yet?”

No. He didn’t want to admit it so he didn’t. “She’ll be home soon,” he said stiffly.
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
He gripped his phone tight as he started pacing the length of his bedroom. He’d just come home

from work himself. Usually Amber was here waiting for him. “What the hell did she say to you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I’m figuring that’s why you called in the first place. So you could tell me all about the

conversation and rub it in my face.” Bitch. He refrained from saying it. He could think it all he
wanted, but he wasn’t about to insult this woman. She was a risk he didn’t want to take.

“Perceptive, as usual.” She laughed again, though it was softer, not as mocking. Not that he

believed she’d softened. He knew she was dying to sink the knife into his heart and twist it until he
bled all over the floor. “She doesn’t understand why you weren’t honest with her, Vincenzo.”

He cringed. How he hated when she called him by his full name. No one did unless he was

introducing himself for the first time or his mother was angry with him. On occasion, Amber called
him Vincenzo when she was teasing him, heavy Italian accident included.

His heart ached. God, he hoped he hadn’t ruined everything by not telling her about their argument

before the accident. If he did…

No way could he ever forgive himself.
“I was protecting her,” he said. Not that he needed to defend himself when it came to Debbie. In

fact, he should hang up at this very moment before he gave her too much ammunition she’d use against
him eventually.

“Say what you want, but she was crying, Vince. Crying. The poor, poor thing.” She made a tsking

noise, sounding like a disappointed mama, and he grimaced. He hoped like hell she was exaggerating.
“You’ve broken your trust bonds with your wife, my friend. I wonder if they’ll ever be repaired.”

He ended the call before she could say another word, throwing the phone onto his bed. Still pacing,

he tore off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to change into something more comfortable before he
texted Amber to check up on her.

First, he needed to figure out what to say. Act nonchalant, as if he has no idea what’s going on? Or

immediately say he was sorry and hoped that they would talk? What was the best tactic?

The front door clicked open and he realized quick he had zero time to figure out what tactic would

work out best. He’d have to go on pure instinct.

“Amber?” he called, trying his best to keep his voice neutral. “I’m in the bedroom.”
The sound of her heels clicking on the bare floor sounded louder and louder as she came closer.

And then she stood in the doorway, her expression sad, her eyes rimmed with red, as if she’d been
crying.

“Hi,” he said, frozen as he stared at her. “Are you all right?”
She slowly shook her head. “Not really.”
“Wh-what happened?” Damn it, he didn’t mean to stutter. He didn’t want to give away that he

knew.

“I remembered.” Her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear her.
“Remembered what?”
“The argument. What I said to you. What you said to me.” She sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me, Vince?”

He took a step toward her. “I was afraid to upset you,” he said quietly, as if he were talking to a

wild animal that might startle easily. “Your recovery went so smoothly and our relationship became
much stronger, I just…I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what? Thinking I might want a divorce again?”
“I know you love me.” He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “There’s no way in hell you could

want a divorce…right?”

“No.” She hung her head, staring at her hands, which she wrung in her lap. “But you should’ve been

honest, Vince. I have a right to know what happened to me before the accident.”

He frowned. “You don’t remember that?”
“I remember you coming to the studio and demanding that we talk. I was so embarrassed. That was

my place of work and you come barging in, all enraged, macho Italian husband. I was…ashamed.”
She kept her head bent, as if she couldn’t meet his gaze.

Damn. He had no idea she’d felt that way. “I’m sorry.”
“Tell me more, Vince. I remember walking out of the building and you coming with me. I remember

we started to argue. But after that…it’s a blank.” She lifted her head, her despondent gaze meeting
his. “I need to know what happened next.”

He didn’t want to tell her. The argument had only gotten worse. How could he admit to her the

tremendous guilt he still felt over her stepping in front of that car and getting hit? He distracted her. It
was his fault she got hurt. She could’ve died.

“Amber…” he started but she cut him off with a shake of her head.
“Don’t hide it from me any longer, Vince. I must know. It’s important to me.” She curled her hands

into fists, pounded them once on her knees. “Say it. Please.”

Chapter Nineteen

“You force me to act this way with your behavior. You don’t act like a true wife.”
“Because I’m not a true wife! Not really. We married too quickly. It was all hot passion and

steamy nights and long, sweet talks, but it wasn’t real. More like a fantasy. This isn’t working. I
want a divorce, Vince.”

“No, you don’t.”
She laughed. “You can’t tell me what I want or don’t want. You don’t have that right.”
“As your husband, I do.”
“Stop with the macho act because I’m not doing or saying what you want me to. Our marriage

doesn’t work. It doesn’t make sense. You’re in Italy most of the time and I’m…everywhere. We
never see each other and when we do, we fight like we’re doing right now.

“I love you, but you want too much from me. Things I can’t give you and that’s not fair to you,

Vince. You deserve a woman who can be there for you no matter what. You’re a wonderful guy.
Really you are. It’s my fault that we aren’t working out.”

“No. I disagree.”
“You can disagree all you want. But I’m determined to make you see that this isn’t working. I

want a divorce.”

“Have you contacted a lawyer yet?”
“No. But I will.”
“I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
“Oh, Vince. Fine. Fight me. I’m doing it, though. I’ll contact a lawyer first thing tomorrow.”

“And then you chased me until I ran in front of a moving vehicle and got hit?” she asked once he

finished retelling their conversation from that fateful day.

He sighed in agitation, shaking his head. “Of course not. You stormed off because I refused to

accept your demands for a divorce. I followed you, tried to get you to stop, but you were too mad.
You just…wanted to get away from me.”

Amber stared at him, her expression incredulous. “So you kept chasing me? Why didn’t you leave

me alone?”

“You were angry. And you’re my wife. I wanted to resolve our problems, not let you storm off in a

huff and next thing I know, I’m getting served divorce papers. We never even had any real problems
beyond never seeing each other. And that could’ve been fixed, Amber. You know it,” he explained.

“Sounds like I didn’t know it then.” Amber sighed and leaned forward, burying her face in her

hands. “What happened next?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“I tried to get you to stop, but you wouldn’t. Next thing I knew, you were running into the

intersection and the car struck you. I-I saw it all happen.” The anguish came rushing back at him along
with the memories. “It was awful. Something I’d rather forget.”

She dropped her hands and lifted her head, her gaze meeting his, direct and unwavering. “Were you

close to me when it happened? Could you have reached out and…saved me?”

“No, I was too far. It all happened so fast.” His voice drifted. She still stared at him hard, almost

like she didn’t believe him.

And then she proved that she really didn’t believe him.

“So that’s how it happened, then? I mean…I remember the conversation at the studio, but after that,

it’s still foggy.” She stood and he stood as well, sprinting in front of her when she started toward the
bedroom door. “What are you doing?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” he said. “Are you trying to leave?”
“Maybe.” She started toward him, giving him a little shove against his front. “Move out of my way,

Vince.”

“No.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Do you think I’m lying, Amber?”
“I-I don’t know.” She backed away from him with a couple of steps. “I keep having these dreams.”
“What happens in those dreams?” He almost didn’t want to know.
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” She threw her hands up in the air, reminding him of that very

day. She’d done the same thing, her normal indicator she was beyond frustrated with him. “You push
me, okay? You’re so angry, telling me that I’ll be yours, that I’ll always be yours, and then you grab
me by the shoulders and start shaking me.”

“That…that never happened.” Something similar, but more when they were front of the Starbucks,

not after she stormed away from him, running down the sidewalk.

“It just feels so real. You’re yelling at me and you look so mad. You grab my shoulders and we’re

standing right on the edge of the curb. You give me a shove and the next thing I know…” She clamped
her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob before. “I’m falling,” she said, her voice muffled beneath her
palm. “I see the car and then I wake up.”

“It didn’t happen,” he murmured. “I would’ve never pushed you in front of a goddamn car, Amber.

Do you really think I would?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Her voice broke and she dropped her hand. She was full on crying now.

“It just feels so incredibly real. And I keep having the same dream. It changes a little, but it always
ends the same, with you shoving me into the street, in front of the car.”

He remembered how her words, her divorce threat had devastated him that day. How it all changed

in seconds and she was lying in the middle of the street, her limp body looking broken and battered.
The blood all over her face, her arm at that horrible angle…

God, he could hardly stand the thought.
“If you believe I would do such a thing to the woman I. Fucking. Love.” He paused, his breathing

harsh, his chest aching with pain and anger and sadness. “Then you don’t know me at all.”

“Wait, Vince. What are you—” She grabbed his arm, trying to stop him, but he jerked out of her

hold, going to the bed to grab his cell from where it lay in the center. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes,” he said grimly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I can’t stay here with you, knowing you

think I’m some sort of monster.”

“I don’t…I don’t think you’re a monster.” She rested her hand on her gently swelling belly. “I just

had no idea you kept that from me, Vince. I can’t believe I wanted a divorce.”

“I couldn’t believe it either,” he retorted as he strode down the hall, his determined steps taking

him to the front door. He wanted out of there.

Now.
“Please don’t leave,” she said, grabbing hold of his hand and making him stop. He did so, not

shaking her off, but he wouldn’t look at her either. He was hurt. His earlier fear of her finding out
about their argument all changed when he realized that she believed he purposely hurt her. What sort
of man did she think he was? Why would she believe he’d do such a horrible thing to her? He loved
her. She was having his baby. Their relationship had been stronger than ever, yet she still believed
such a horrible thing about him.

“I just…I’m going to Stasia and Gavin’s,” he said, turning so he could look at her. “I think it’s best

if we stay apart for the night. I need to get my head together. You need to gather your thoughts after
remembering some of that day. I’m sure you’re in a state of shock.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I told you my true feelings and you’re using them against me.”
“By you saying that you suspect I pushed you in front of that car, you may as well call me a

murderer, Amber. I won’t stand by and allow those poisonous thoughts to flow between us. You need
to come to a decision.”

“A decision? Are you giving me an ultimatum, like my mom?” Her voice rose and she tugged her

hand from his.

Ah, she didn’t like it. They’d argued over her parents before and she’d gone off and given them the

money anyway. All of it for naught, since her dad reentered the rehabilitation facility and then bailed
out of it two days later. They refused to take him back.

Another waste, as usual.
Determination filling him, he studied her. Hoping she understood his point. If she couldn’t trust

him… “You need to believe in me,” he said. “I would never, ever hurt you Amber. Not purposely.
And definitely not physically. What happened on that day was an accident. Yes, I was wrong, keeping
our divorce argument from you. But I did it at first to protect you.”

“And protect yourself,” she added.
He sighed. “Yes. I was protecting myself too. But I did it more for you. You were so fragile, so

vulnerable. You were scared of the scar on your face, your arm and how it would affect your
modeling. You didn’t want to give up your career and you seemed so confused. I wanted to do what
was best for you. I wanted to be somewhere safe for you. The one you could trust above everyone
else.”

“You were,” she murmured.
“That’s the key word. Were,” he stressed. “If I can’t be what you believe in now, at this very

moment, then I can’t stay here with you, Amber. We need to be strong together. For us, for our baby.
Remember that.”

And with those last words, he left the apartment.

Amber didn’t know what to do, didn’t know who to talk to. Her mom would be no help. She’d just

tell Amber not to let Vince go because he had lots of money and could take care of her. Or she’d beg
her to come back home, and that was the absolute last thing Amber wanted to do.

She couldn’t turn to Debbie Kaye because for whatever reason, she’d called her the moment she

finished with her overwhelming therapy session. The moment she heard Debbie’s voice over the
phone, she knew she’d done the wrong thing. But she wanted to hear the details from Debbie. Amber
knew Debbie would tell her, and she had.

Debbie had gone over every gory moment, accompanied by a strange tinge of glee in her voice. As

if she relished giving Amber all of the horrible details. Not that there were many, per se. Amber had
been undoubtedly shocked by the revelation that she and Vince had argued and actually discussed
divorce.

“How did you even know?” Amber had asked Debbie. “Were you there? Did you witness our

argument on the sidewalk?”

“No, I didn’t need to. You’d called me and said you were going to ask him for a divorce. I just

assumed that happened and you couldn’t remember. I’m no dummy, Amber,” Debbie had drawled.
“Before the accident, you told me everything. All of your problems, how much you loved Vince, how

distant the two of you had become once you were married. I was your closest confidant, the one you
told all of your troubles to.”

Amber had said nothing in response. She knew what Debbie had said was the truth. Why would she

lie about this? “I remember being so frustrated with him when he showed up at the shoot. He
embarrassed me, thundering about like he owned the place. Like he owned me.”

“He always acted like he owned you, darling,” Debbie had told her. “You were finally starting to

see you were your own woman once more. Then the accident happened, and poof. You fell under the
delectable spell of Vincenzo Renaldi.”

“Delectable?” Amber didn’t like the way Debbie always talked about her husband, as if she was

attracted to him. “Are you hot for Vince or what?” She added a laugh at the end of the question, but
she was serious. She needed to know what exactly Debbie’s feelings for Vince were.

“Well, I won’t deny that your husband is incredibly handsome. Those smoldering dark good

looks.” Debbie waited a beat. “Any woman would fall under his spell, darling.”

“Right. And I did. Twice.” Amber paused. “Maybe you did too?”
“Perhaps. Not that he ever noticed me once he got a look at you the first time you two met.”
She sounded jealous. Was she really? Or was Amber being too suspicious?
“Besides, you two fell so madly in love all over again, how could I put a stop to that?” Debbie

continued.

So very true, and Amber had fallen rather happily too, until the disturbing dreams started. And they

wouldn’t stop. She started to believe in them, that her dreams were really her memories. She started
to think that maybe Vince had played a more sinister part in her accident…

But did she believe it still? Now?
What about Debbie? Amber was starting to doubt her so-called good intentions. Maybe her agent

was jealous of her relationship with her husband. Maybe Debbie wanted her own relationship with
Vince, which was just all sorts wrong. She felt like she couldn’t trust anyone.

Her husband’s earlier words had hurt, though really she knew that she’d hurt him more. Her lack of

faith in him, her lack of faith in their marriage, in his love for her, had cut him to the very bone. How
he kept the truth of their argument on that day of the accident hurt as well. They were both guilty in
this silly, painful mess. Should she let it keep them apart? She was pregnant with their child. To
separate now would be…

Scary.
And she didn’t want them to be apart. She loved him.
Did he love her?
Of course, he does, her heart whispered.
Her mind told her otherwise.

Chapter Twenty

“You must go back home and speak to her,” Stasia urged, giving his shoulder a firm shake. “Listen

to me, Vince. I can tell when you’re not paying attention.” They were sitting at her kitchen table
drinking coffee. She’d tried to push breakfast on him, but Vince had refused. Since last night, he
hadn’t had much of an appetite. He hadn’t slept well either. No surprise.

Waving a hand at his sister, he shrugged away from her touch. He wasn’t in the mood to listen.

Since his sister wouldn’t let him wallow in bed all day, he figured he’d rather sulk and watch
mindless TV, something he rarely indulged in. When did he have time for television? Even when he
did, he’d rather sit and talk to Amber. Or take her back to bed and make love to her through the night.

Vince grimaced. Damn it, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How much her words, her lack of

trust in him had wounded his heart. He knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. That she’d had every
right to be angry with him…

“She needs time to cool off,” he muttered, sending a glare in Stasia’s direction when she rolled her

eyes. “What?”

“Please. More like you’re the one who needs to cool off. So you come hiding out over here, hoping

I’ll tell you that you were right and she was wrong and the two of you are a big mess.” Stasia rolled
her eyes again and he growled, hating how she dismissed his feelings with a few choice words.

He and Stasia had always been the closest, since they were near in age. This also meant they fought

a lot, especially when they were kids. They were older now. Stasia was a wife and mother, for God’s
sake. Yet he still wanted to yank her hair and call her names for rolling her eyes at him.

Great. Now he was reverting to his twelve-year-old little boy ways. What the hell was wrong with

him?

“What would you tell me, then?” he asked through gritted teeth. He braced himself, waiting for the

brutal truth.

“I would say that you both hurt each other in your own way, but if you go to her first and apologize,

this entire problem would most likely disappear,” Stasia said. “She does love you, you know. And I
know you love her too.”

She made it sound so easy. “You believe our problem is that simple?”
“I know it’s that simple. I’ve been in this sort of situation before. My husband and I fought before

we were married. Gavin and I even split up for a short period of time. Both of us were too stubborn
to realize how much we were hurting without each other. How stupid it was for us to stay apart when
clearly we belonged together.”

Vince frowned. He’d come to Stasia’s last evening and stayed the night. She hadn’t asked many

questions and Gavin had asked none at all, which Vince appreciated. When he’d finally confessed to
Stasia that he and Amber had a fight, she’d grown irritated with him but left him alone.

His wife hadn’t left him alone, though. Amber had texted a few times, but he hadn’t answered,

prompting Stasia to call her and let her know where her husband was.

His sister had always been a meddler. She hadn’t changed a bit.
“She needs to apologize as well,” Vince said, knowing he sounded like a hurt, whiny boy. “She’s

the one who believes I would actually shove her in front of a moving car so I can try to kill her,” he
said, his voice laced with disgust.

“Give her a break. She’s had much emotional upheaval these last few months. First with trouble

brewing between the two of you, the car accident, how quickly you two came back together and then
her pregnancy. I’m sure her hormones are on an epic rollercoaster ride and she can hardly keep up.”

Another thing his sister was so damn good at—making him feel like absolute shit. “So you’re

saying I should be the one who apologizes first.”

Stasia smiled. “Ah, there’s my smart brother. Yes, you should push aside your pride and your anger

and tell that poor wife of yours you’re sorry. You’re going to have a child together, Vince. You’re in
love with each other. Don’t let a foolish little fight ruin your marriage.”

“The fight didn’t feel so foolish when it was happening,” he defended.
“They never do, right? It’s when you can step away and really examine the situation that you realize

just how silly you’ve been,” Stasia observed.

Gah, her words of wisdom were going to drive him up the wall. He didn’t need the lecture.

“You’ve turned into Mama.”

Now it was Stasia’s turn to frown. “What?”
“The way you’re talking to me. You sound just like Mama. Someday you’ll drive your children just

as crazy as she drives us,” Vince said with a rusty laugh. It was the first time he’d felt something other
than complete despair in the last twenty-four hours. But as soon as he started laughing, it dried up. His
sense of humor had disappeared.

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” Stasia muttered, getting up to pour

herself another cup of coffee.

Vince started laughing again, and he was thankful for it. He needed to get over feeling so awful. He

needed to get back to his wife more than anything. “I would say both.”

“You’re just trying to change the subject.” She returned to the table, sitting across from him so she

could pin him with her intense stare. “Shed your pride and go apologize to your wife, Vince. She
needs you. Now more than ever.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Oh, please. I spoke to her last night. And this morning.” At Vince’s shocked look, Stasia

continued. “Yes, she called this morning, checking up on you and making sure you were all right. I
told her your stubbornness will always ensure you’ll be just fine. You’re too much of a pain in the ass
to fall apart completely over something like this.”

“Something like this?” He snorted. “You make it sound so minor.”
“Because it is!” Stasia pounded her fist on the edge of the table, making it rattle and startling Vince.

“I’m serious. She had dreams and they scared her. They made her doubt and question what was
memory and what was her subconscious conjuring up phony images or whatever. You cannot hold this
against her. It would be petty and mean if you did so. You know how confused she’s been.”

He didn’t say a word. Everything Stasia said was true, but it was hard to face. More than anything,

it was hard to admit.

“Would you risk your relationship for something so minor? Risk the safety of your unborn child?”
“What does our unborn child have to do with this?”
“Oh my God, how can you be so dense? The baby has everything to do with this. If you split up

with Amber, then your baby will come from a divorced family when he or she is born,” Stasia said
with yet another roll of her eyes. “Do you really want to do that to your child?”

“I have no plans on doing any such thing, despite what you think. I love Amber. We’re having

trouble. Let us sort it out. We don’t need your meddling.” He didn’t care if he offended Stasia by
calling her a meddler. He was tired of talking about his private problems.

“Fine. If you don’t need my meddling, then call her,” Stasia suggested irritably.

“What?”
“Call her.” She grabbed Vince’s phone from where it rested on the kitchen table and slid it toward

him. “Right now. Call her and say you want to come home. That the two of you need to talk.”

He stared at the phone, fear and trepidation bouncing in his gut. He wanted to call her. He needed

to call her. But what would he say? I’m sorry I’m a complete asshole? She might appreciate that.

Then again, she might not.
“If you’re not going to call her then just go back home. Apologize to her in person. That’s the best

way to do it, if you ask me,” Stasia said, not that he’d asked her. But she was offering her opinion
anyway, as usual. “Saying those words face to face will be far more effective.”

He knew Stasia was right. He should go home. Running away from his problems wouldn’t solve

them. Facing them head on was the only way.

But apologizing? He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet. She could spit in his face. Stomp on

his foot. Say she hated him and lock him out. Threaten him that he would never see her or their unborn
baby again.

They didn’t even know what they were having. She’d gone to an ultrasound appointment, but the

baby kept his or her back to them the entire time, making it impossible to decipher what sex he or she
is. He was starting to wonder if he even wanted to know. He’d almost rather be surprised, just to be
different. He thought it would be a lot more fun that way.

“Go to her.” Stasia reached out and rested her hand over his. “Stop prolonging the inevitable.

Arguments happen. Even…distrust happens. But the two of you can overcome this. You need to. Not
only for your sakes, but for the baby’s.”

His defenses went up yet again, like he had no control over them. “I’m not getting back together

with Amber just for the sake of the baby. No marriage does well if the parents stay together for the
sake of the children yet fight all the time,” Vince pointed out.

“You’re right. And I never said you were staying with Amber only for the baby. I’ve never seen

you fight. There were problems before, but after the accident, I thought the two of you were stronger
than ever. You and Amber are madly in love. It’s sickeningly obvious every time I see you two
together,” Stasia said with a low laugh.

He would never admit it, but his sister was right. He and his wife were madly in love. Since the

accident, their relationship had grown stronger. They were starting a family. Yes, their disagreement
was serious, but they could overcome this. They couldn’t let his dishonesty and her mistrust destroy
what they had.

“I’ll go to her,” Vince said, turning his hand up to give his sister’s a squeeze. “I’m man enough to

face my problems and not run away from them. I just needed…distance first. To figure out what I was
going to do.”

“You’re going to say you’re sorry first, right?” she asked gently.
“Definitely.” He nodded. “I can admit when I was wrong.” Most of the time.
“Well, look at you admitting such a thing. I don’t expect to ever hear Rafe or Matteo say such a

thing,” Stasia said with a low mutter.

Vince started laughing all over again. “So very true, little sister. So very true.”

Chapter Twenty-One

She missed her husband.
From the moment Amber watched Vince walk out of their apartment with hardly a backward

glance, her entire body ached at the loss. How could she have doubted him? Yes, they’d had their
troubles. Yes, their marriage hadn’t been perfect. But after the accident, when they both realized they
could’ve lost each other…

Their relationship had become stronger. Healthy. She needed Vince by her side. And she knew he

wanted her by his side as well. They were a family now.

Rubbing her hand absently over her belly, she gazed down at herself. It seemed to grow with each

day that passed, and the baby had started to shift and move. A miraculous little flutter that her husband
hadn’t felt yet, which made her sad.

Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and she blinked hard, wishing them away. She’d cried

enough tears over their argument. She needed to focus on the positive.

Like how she would apologize to Vince. And how they could make their marriage work.
Debbie had tried to call, but she ignored her. She couldn’t trust her agent anymore. Debbie’s

supposed good intentions didn’t feel true. More than anything, Debbie made her feel uncomfortable.
She didn’t need that sort of unease in her life.

It was better to just walk away from it all.
Her mom had called as well, leaving a frantic voicemail that her father had disappeared and could

Amber possibly send some money so she could hire a private detective?

Amber had sent her mom a simple text in reply.
I can’t help you anymore. You need to figure this out on your own.
No response from her mom, which didn’t surprise her. She was probably angry. Good. So was

Amber. Vince had been right all along. She needed to stop allowing her family to take advantage of
her.

Denying her mother’s private detective request was the first step.
“You’re on the right track,” Dr. Harris said. They’d had an unscheduled appointment this morning,

Amber having called her first thing to see if she had anything available. She needed to hear from an
objective source that she was doing the right thing. She needed Dr. Harris to tell her that everything
was going to be okay.

“I am?” Amber asked, still smoothing her hand back and forth over her stomach. “It doesn’t feel

like it.”

“Your mom needs to learn how to handle these problems on her own. Your father leaving her isn’t

your problem. That’s her problem. You can’t constantly bail them out.”

“I know. You’re right.” Amber nodded. “It’s just hard to...stop helping them.” She was still

tempted to call her mom and say she changed her mind but she couldn’t. It was wrong.

“You’re enabling them,” Dr. Harris said gently. “It’s unhealthy. You may think you’re helping them,

but it never works. They keep coming back for more and you keep letting them. They’re using you,
Amber.”

The words sank in, slowly but surely. “Yes, they are. I let them use me. It’s what is expected of

me.”

“Not any longer. You’re a grown woman. You can do what you want.”

Those words repeated in her head during the taxi ride home. They’d spoke more of her parents and

of her argument with Vince. It all came together at once, overwhelming her completely, and she
needed to discuss the details with Dr. Harris in order to sort everything out. It had all become a
jumble in her brain…

Not anymore, though. She had focus. Goals. The first one being that she needed to reach out to

Vince and tell him she was sorry for distrusting him.

That was the right thing to do.
The moment she entered their apartment, she sensed that Vince was there. She didn’t know if she

could smell him, feel him or what, but he was nearby. Walking deeper into the apartment, she looked
through all the rooms, not finding him anywhere until she came to their bedroom.

The light shone from beneath the closed door of the master bathroom and she could hear water

running. The shower. Her husband was home and taking a shower.

Deciding to be brave, she went to the door and slowly pushed it open.
The bathroom was a decadent, large room, Italian travertine tile everywhere, with a shower that

could easily fit four and a whirlpool bathtub. It was her favorite room in their home. She loved taking
baths. Loved even more showering with her husband.

She wished she could step into the shower with him now. Run her hands over his warm, wet skin,

soap him up, kiss him everywhere…

“Amber?” His deep voice rang over the sound of the running water and she paused, reaching out so

she could grip the edge of the counter. “Are you there?”

Clearing her throat, she answered, “Yes. Um, hi.” She kept her back to the clear shower door, the

steam from the hot water obscuring it some, but she could still make out his tall, lean form in the
mirror that she faced. He propped open the door, peeking his head out, and their gazes clashed in the
mirror.

“You came back.” He paused for a moment, dripping water all over the plush rug in front of the

shower. “I was going to call you when I finished.”

“You were?” She still didn’t face him, choosing to speak to him via the mirror, which was silly.

But she couldn’t help it.

If she turned around and drank in all his naked glory, she’d probably run to him and beg his

forgiveness. She needed to remain calm.

Strong.
“I wanted to speak with you,” he said, his deep voice extra low, rippling along her nerve endings.

She loved when he spoke to her in that particular voice. All husky and sensual. “I wanted to…
apologize.”

She turned to face him, shocked that he would say such a thing. “Apologize?”
“For not telling you the truth. For not letting you know that we discussed divorce before the

accident. Not that I ever wanted it,” he rushed to add. “That all came from you. Not that I’m putting
any blame on you either.”

“I-I know.” She smiled faintly. “I still can’t remember everything, but I do know I was frustrated.

And feeling caught between you and my family. I couldn’t stop working because I needed to take care
of them, you know?”

“I do know. I understand now.” He opened the door wider, a closed-lipped smile on his face. “Join

me.”

Hope rose within her. She would love to join him, but maybe they should talk some more first? “I

don’t know…” She hesitated.

“Come now.” His smile grew. “We could make up to each other all the wrongs we caused. Just…

come into the shower and we can talk here. It’ll relax you.”

More like it would arouse her, being so close to her naked husband, watching the water droplets

slide all over his olive toned skin. “I’ve been to Dr. Harris’.”

“Oh?” He cocked a brow, his eyes darkening when he realized she was starting to strip. “Did you

talk about what happened?”

“Yes, and something else happened too.” She shed her pants and shirt, until she was standing

before him in just her underwear. “She told me I needed to apologize.”

“Stasia said the same thing to me.” His gaze ran over her body, so intent it felt as if he’d actually

physically touched her. “Your belly has grown.”

“I know.” Her hand automatically dropped to her stomach. “The baby kicks now.”
“Really? And you didn’t tell me?” He sounded almost wounded.
And she was so tired of wounding him. Of feeling wounded with him. Love wasn’t supposed to

hurt so much, was it?

Only when there are secrets and lies…
Well, no more of that.
“With everything happening the last few days, I haven’t had the chance.” She reached behind her

and unhooked her bra, letting the little scrap of fabric fall to the floor. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you
can feel the baby kick right now.”

His gaze never left her as she stepped out of her panties and strode toward the open shower door.

“How did I get so lucky?”

She paused before entering the shower. “What do you mean?”
“A gorgeous, smart, forgiving wife, my unborn baby growing in her belly, a marriage that hopefully

will become stronger than ever.” He took her hand and led her into the giant shower. “I am the
luckiest man alive.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed, making him laugh as he pulled the heavy glass door shut.
He slipped his arms around her and hugged her close, making her shriek. The water was cool, yet

his skin was so hot. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his wet hair as she
clung to him. They couldn’t be as close as usual, what with her swelling belly in the way but it didn’t
matter.

It felt good to be back in her husband’s arms again, pressed against him skin to skin. He ran his

hand up and down her back, his mouth close to her ear as he murmured Italian endearments that made
her skin prickle with awareness.

“No more secrets,” he said in English. “No more lies between us ever again, my love. I can’t stand

the thought of us being apart like this. We are meant to be together.”

“Yes, yes.” She lifted her head just as he bent his, their mouths meeting in a decadent kiss. “I

missed you,” she murmured against his warm, soft lips.

“I missed you too. And I’m sorry, so sorry that I kept everything from you. It was eating me up

inside.” He kissed her again, deepening it, until she was moaning in his arms and pulling away before
they became too caught up.

There were other things she needed to tell him first.
“My mom asked for more money,” she said, feeling him stiffen against her—and not in a good way.

“But I told her no. I can’t keep doing this, Vince. It’s not healthy.”

“You’re right,” he agreed solemnly. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself. What did she say?”
“Nothing.” She slowly shook her head, her gaze fixed on the smooth, muscled wall of her

husband’s chest. She drifted her fingers along his skin, settling right over his pounding heart. “She’s
angry, I’m sure. She’ll probably call and harass me. I’ll need to remain strong. She…knows how to
push all of my buttons.” And then some.

“I’ll help you with that. Support you.” He lifted his hand, ran it over the top of her head. “Whatever

you need, whatever you want, I’m here for you.”

“I know.” She leaned into him and closed her eyes. “I love you.” It felt good to say those very

simple yet complex words.

“I love you too. I can’t stand the thought of ever losing you,” he whispered fiercely against her hair.

“You and the baby are everything to me.” He rested his hand on her stomach, his fingers gentle as they
caressed her skin.

“You won’t lose me or the baby ever.” A jolt moved through her when his hand wandered upward

to cup her breast, his thumb brushing against her straining nipple. “I promise.”

The water beat down on them but she didn’t care. She was lost in her husband’s touch, the words

of love he whispered, his hands all over her. He caressed her stomach once more, slowly, and at that
very moment the baby moved, a gentle roll right where Vince’s hand rested.

His head jerked up and he took a step back, his gaze locking with hers. “Was that…?”
“Yes.” She nodded and began to laugh at the wide-eyed wonder written all over her husband’s

face. “The baby. He just moved.”

“He?” A brow rose as he dropped his gaze to her stomach once more. He stared at her lovingly, his

awestruck expression tugging at her heart. “You believe it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know. I think you’d like a boy,” she whispered.
Leaning in, he dropped a kiss to her forehead, reaching around her to shut off the water. “I don’t

care what we have as long as the baby is healthy. That’s all that matters.”

“Hmm, I agree.” She shivered. “Now grab one of those thick towels and dry me off, husband. Then

I’ll dry you off and we can take each other to bed.”

Vince laughed and reached for a towel. “You got it, wife.”
She did have it. Happiness. Love.
Everything.

Chapter Twenty-Two

His wife lay in the center of their bed, the sheet drawn up to her hips, her belly and breasts on

blatant display. Her long damp hair spread all over the pillow, her lips swollen from his kisses and
her lids heavy with desire.

She was like an offering and he was a starving man, ready to devour her.
“Hurry,” she urged, watching him as he moved around the bed to his side, a bottle of water in his

hands. They’d made love earlier, after he towel-dried every inch of her body and she’d done the same
to him. He’d carried her back to their bed, where he proceeded to make her his in every way
possible.

Just so she wouldn’t forget who she belonged to.
He’d woken up parched and crawled out of bed to the kitchen where he grabbed the bottled water

out of the refrigerator. Sneaking back into their room, he found his wife awake and looking restless
and as gorgeous as ever. Maybe even more so.

Pausing at the foot of the bed, he stared at her. “If I had a camera right now…”
She hid her face in her hands, a little giggle escaping her. “I’m sick of cameras. I’ve had enough

photos taken of me to last a lifetime.”

So very true. “Well, you’re beautiful right now. All sated and happy, you’ve got that sleepy, I-just-

got-fucked look I’ve always loved.”

Amber dropped her hands, her eyes going wide with shock. “‘Just-got-fucked look’? Really,

Vince? We’re married. We’re going to be parents. And you choose to still talk like that.”

“You make us sound like a bunch of old folks going to the retirement home.” He reached out and

slipped his hand beneath the sheet, giving her big toe a tug and making her yelp. “Give me a break,
wife. If I want to fuck you, I’m certainly going to fuck you.”

“God, stop.” She rested her hands on either side of her stomach, as if she were blocking the baby

from hearing him. “You can’t talk that way around our child.”

Laughing, he crawled onto the bed and settled in front of her, between her spread legs, which she

widened to accommodate him. His face was directly in front of her protruding stomach and he leaned
down, pressed his lips against her skin. “I promise I won’t, but right now? With you looking so
damned sexy? I’m going to say whatever the hell I want.”

She cupped his cheek, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You’re bad.”
“And you love it.” He dropped a string of kisses along her belly, overwhelmed at knowing their

child grew within her. Amber had been so responsive earlier, as if she couldn’t get enough. She’d had
three orgasms and he figured her responsiveness had something to do with her pregnancy.

Not that he was protesting. He’d heard the second trimester is by far the easiest for the woman to

handle. When she felt the best, when she moved around the easiest. His wife was certainly proving
that to be true.

“I do love it,” she agreed, running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying his

wife’s touch as he continued to rain kisses along her stomach and then lower, just above her pubic
hair. She trembled beneath his lips, he could feel the heat of her coming from between her legs, and
he knew what he wanted to do.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, lifting his gaze just in time to see her eyes heat with promise.

She loved it when he went down on her, and he loved to do it. Since she became pregnant he swore

she tasted differently…

And she got off so easily too. He thoroughly enjoyed pleasing his woman like this.
She spread her legs even farther as he moved down, his hands clamping the inside of her thighs.

She was damp, glistening with want and he bent his head, nuzzling her there with his nose and making
her whimper. He wanted to tease her, to drive her wild and make her wait but he knew his time
would be limited.

Because he knew that soon his wife would become quite demanding.
Darting out his tongue, he licked her, making her whimper. He searched her folds thoroughly,

lingering on the spots he knew would make her shudder. She sank her hands in his hair, holding him to
her as he slipped first one, then two fingers deep inside her. A gasp escaped her when he drew her
clit into his mouth and she panted, moving against him, lifting her hips.

“God, that feels so good,” she whispered as he lifted his gaze to find her watching him devour her.
His cock ached to be inside her, but he wanted to make her come first. He returned his attention to

her sex, licking and sucking, increasing the pace of his fingers. She moved with him, her breasts
bouncing, her back arching as she lifted up. He loved watching her like this, so greedy and lost. He
slipped one hand beneath her ass and gripped her, squeezing and teasing as he flicked his tongue over
her clit again and again.

Until she was melting, crying out as she thrashed beneath him, his name falling from her lips. He

kept his mouth on her through her orgasm, gentling his touch until finally she collapsed onto the bed,
her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths, her legs tangled around his head, her heels pressing
against his back.

“Well,” he said dryly. “That was quick.”
She opened her eyes and burst out laughing, slowly shaking her head. “I swear, since I’ve become

pregnant you can look at me and I spontaneously orgasm.”

He moved up until he was lying beside her, sliding his arms around her waist. “I had no idea I was

that powerful.”

“Oh, you’re magical,” she murmured against his lips just before she kissed him.

Her husband was magical. Who else could give her such bone-melting orgasms in a matter of

minutes? God, his mouth and tongue were like precious gifts created to just get her off.

Amber slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling the laughter that wanted to escape. Where did she

get such thoughts? She was losing her mind. She had to be. That was the only explanation.

“What are you laughing about?” Vince touched her, tracing the side of her face with his index

finger.

“You don’t want to know,” she answered when she dropped her hand, moving so she could kiss

him on the lips. She could taste herself, but it didn’t bother her. It never had.

More like it totally aroused her.
He pulled her to him so they were lying side by side. She could feel his erection brush against her

belly and she reached for him, curling her fingers around the base of his cock. He surged her into her
hand when she squeezed and just like that, she wanted him inside of her. “Keep that up and I’ll come
all over your fingers,” he growled.

“Ooh, that sounds fun,” she teased, earning another growl from him for her comment. She laughed,

stroking him as she did so and she watched in fasciation as his gaze darkened and his expression
turned thunderous.

She would know that look anywhere. Her husband was aroused. Ready to take her.

And she was ready to let him have her.
“Don’t tease, woman,” he warned. “I mean what I say.”
“Then you better get inside me quick, shouldn’t you?”
The man needed no prompting. He rolled over so she was flat on her back once more and he

hovered above her. She spread her legs, her entire body tingling when she felt the blunt head of his
cock brush against her center. Slowly, carefully he entered her, until he was balls-deep inside of her.
She stared up at him as he closed his eyes and seemed to hold his breath, his lips pressed tightly
together.

“Christ you feel good,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “Are you sure I’m not hurting you or

the baby?”

“Of course not. Don’t worry,” she said, wrapping her arms around him so she could cling to him.

She ran her hands down his smooth, well muscled back, settling them on his backside and pressing
down so he slid even deeper inside her. They both groaned at the sensation and she wrapped her legs
around his hips, anchoring herself to him.

“Take me, Vince,” she whispered as he gathered her up in his arms, holding her close. “Fuck me

hard.”

“Jesus, woman, are you trying to undo me?” he muttered as he started to move faster.
She threw her head back against the pillow with a smile, her eyes sliding closed as she became

lost to the sensation of her husband’s thick cock moving inside her. “Yes. It’s only fair, you know.”
Her voice caught when he hit a particular spot and she shivered, her entire body tensing for a brief,
hanging moment. She was so close to coming again—it was like a little miracle. “You completely
undo me, so I thought I’d return the favor.”

He picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of her, their damp with sweat skin slapping against each

other, the bed rocking beneath them as he rocked within her. Vince fucked her hard, just as she asked,
her body moving up the mattress as he pounded inside her. He was close, just as close as she and
when he reached between their bodies, his finger finding her clit at just the precise moment. His touch
sent her right over the edge.

Amber shattered, her whimpers mingling with his hoarse cries as he came deep inside her. She felt

the hot jets of his semen filling her, his hips slapping against hers as he groaned, holding himself
above her as the orgasm wracked through his body.

She watched, smoothed her hands up and down his back, her own body still consumed with little

shivers before he finally pulled out of her and collapsed beside her, one arm slung over her stomach,
his hand curled just beneath her breast. Closing her eyes, she lay there with her man beside her,
matching her breathing to his, trying her best to calm her racing heart.

Never had she felt more complete.
“I love you, you know,” he said long minutes later as he caressed her shoulder and arm with his

fingertips. “I hated being apart from you.”

“It was only for twenty-four hours. If that,” she teased.
“Not just now, I’m talking after we first got married, when we never saw each other.” He paused,

the air heavy with his thoughts. “That wasn’t how I wanted to start our marriage.”

“Me either,” she said, turning her head so she could kiss his chest.
He snuggled her closer, his arms tight around her. “I never wanted to prevent you from working,

though. That was your choice.”

“And I’m glad I made that choice,” she said, wanting to reassure him. “I only worked to take care

of my parents, really. That’s not a good enough reason. I needed to live my own life, you know?”

“Is that life with me as well?” He asked, sounding hopeful.
Most definitely, she confirmed, kissing his chest again.
“Your words mean more to me than you will ever know,” he said solemnly as he slipped his hand

beneath her chin, tilting her face back so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I love you,” he said
again.

“I love you too,” she whispered, fighting off the tears. She was such an emotional mess lately. It

was downright irritating. “I’m so excited to start this new chapter of our lives with you and the baby.”

Bending his head, he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, making her smile. “Me too, my love. Me

too.”

Epilogue

“You did it.”
Amber glanced up and smiled as her sister- and mother-in-law walked into the hospital room

together, both of them wearing matching grins. “I did it,” she said softly, dipping her head to take in
the sleeping bundle that lay snuggled in her arms.

Stasia and Claudia came around the bed, standing on either side of it so they both could peer down

at the sleeping baby. “He’s gorgeous,” Stasia murmured, reaching out to smooth her hand along the
blanket that was wrapped tight around him. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Thrilled. Happy.” Amber ran a finger down her son’s downy-soft cheek. His eyes were

tightly closed, his dark, dark hair stark against his pinkish skin. He reminded her of Vince.

And when he popped open his dark eyes and stared up at her with a solemn little expression on his

face, she thought her heart might fill to bursting.

“I want to hold my grandson.” Claudia waved her fingers at Amber in a gimme gesture. “Please.”
Amber handed him over with a smile, loving how Claudia cradled him close, murmuring Italian to

him. She took a deep breath and leaned against the bed, closing her eyes as a wave of exhaustion
settled over her.

She’d labored for hours, refusing any medication like a foolish, stupid woman, but damn it, she

wanted to do it naturally. Vince fretted like an overindulging old woman, begging her to take
something, anything to ease her pain. He hated seeing her in agony.

She told him to man up and deal with it.
Finally, after a solid eleven hours of labor, she pushed for twenty minutes until out came her son.
Giovanni Vincenzo Renaldi.
“That is quite the mouthful you named him,” Stasia said, as if she could read Amber’s mind. “And

naming him after his father. Is he deserving, after all the grief he put you through?”

Amber knew Stasia teased. It was her favorite thing to do, give her big brother plenty of grief. “I

think so. After all, he played a rather important part in Gio’s even being here.”

“You’re going to call him Gio, how sweet,” Claudia said before she resumed her cooing over her

grandson.

“Look at all the mother hens gathered in one spot,” a male voice said, causing them all to turn to

find Vince standing in the doorway, Stasia’s husband, Gavin, just behind him.

“You boys would be nothing without your mother and wives, so please, stop with the nonsense,”

Claudia chastised as she started toward her son. She offered him a quick peck on the cheek while still
cradling Giovanni close. “You did well, Vincenzo. Your son is beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mama.” He took Gio from his mother’s arms, holding him carefully while wearing an

expression of trepidation on his face.

Amber’s heart threatened to burst. She loved seeing her husband hold his tiny son. He looked a

little awkward doing it, as if he was afraid Giovanni might break, which only endeared him to Amber
even more. It was so sweet, how nervous he seemed around the baby.

He’d been so encouraging through the last trimester of her pregnancy. And when she’d gone into

labor, he’d been a great if nervous coach.

She was a lucky woman. She had everything and everyone she could ever want in her life. She was

patching up her relationship with her mother; though it was slow going, they were doing their best.

She’d cut those who treated her poorly from her life. Her father…she couldn’t save him forever.
She’d done everything she could and it still wasn’t enough. She had to learn how to let go, no matter
how much it hurt or how bad she felt.

She’d grown closer to Stasia and they even planned on spending a few months in Italy over the

summer so they could be with the rest of Vince’s family. They both wanted the baby to know and
understand his heritage.

“You should all go,” Vince said firmly as he strode toward the bed, depositing Gio carefully in

Amber’s arms. “My wife is exhausted.”

“Oh, Vince, we just got here,” Stasia started to protest, but Claudia shushed her, taking her by the

arm and steering her toward the door.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Claudia said, sending them a loving smile. “He’s lovely, Amber.

Thank you for giving me such a beautiful grandson.”

“Congratulations, you two,” Gavin said, coming to the bed to quickly give Amber a kiss on the

cheek before he started to follow the two women out of the room. “We’ll come back tomorrow when
you’re feeling more up for visitors.”

They exited the room, leaving Vince and Amber alone with Gio.
“You should come home tonight,” Vince declared. “Get them to release you.”
“Vince. I gave birth not even twelve hours ago. Let me rest,” she said, juggling Gio in her arms

when he started to fuss. “I think he’s hungry.”

She tugged on her hospital gown, baring her breast for Gio. He latched on easily and she leaned

back with a contented sigh, enjoying the sight of her newborn son. “I still can’t believe he’s finally
here,” she whispered.

“Me too.” Vince settled on the edge of the bed and reached out, placing his hand on the top of

Giovanni’s head. “I love you, Amber. You have made me the happiest man in the world.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her husband’s bristly-with-stubble

cheek. “We’ve done good, haven’t we?”

“Indeed we have,” Vince agreed with a smile. “Now if you give me at least three more children,

possibly four, everything will be perfect.”

“My God, Vince, I just gave birth and you’re already planning the rest of our brood?” She shook

her head with a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“Three boys and two girls. That sounds perfect, don’t you think?” he asked, his tone full of

innocence, but Amber knew better. He meant every word he said.

“It sounds like a lot of work,” she retorted as she cuddled her baby close. He smelled good, felt

good, in her arms.

She never knew she could love a little human as much as she loved her Gio. And she’d only just

met him.

“You can handle it, my capable wife,” Vince said. “I have faith in you.”
“And I have faith in you too, husband.” She kissed him when he turned toward her. “So that means

only two children.”

“Two?” He looked hurt. “That’s not even close to enough. Four.”
She heaved a big sigh. “Fine, three. I’ll give you three children.”
“Three is perfect,” he said with a smile. “You’re perfect.”
“And don’t you ever forget it.” She laughed.
“Never,” he murmured just before he kissed her, his lips lingering. “I promise.”
And she knew he meant it.

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author Karen Erickson writes what she loves to read—sexy contemporary

romance. Digitally published since 2006, she’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below
Yosemite with her husband and three children.

Karen is also known as New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Monica Murphy.

To learn more about Karen, visit her online:

www.karenerickson.com

Facebook:

www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor

Twitter:

www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy

Look for these titles by Karen Erickson

Now Available:

Spontaneous

Jesse’s Girl

Fortune

Fortune’s Deception

Fortune’s Promise

Fortune’s Chance

Playing with Fire

Forbidden

Tangled

Scandalous

Notorious

Fated

Under My Umbrella

Baby, Don’t Lose My Number

Simple Twist of Fate

Tahoe Nights

My Favorite Mistake

End of Days

Neon Chaos

Worth It

Worth the Scandal

Worth the Risk

Worth the Challenge

Worth Everything

The Renaldis

Temporary Arrangement

Tempted by Her Boss

Kidnapping His Bride

Print Anthologies

Midsummer Night’s Steam: Hot Summer Nights

Luck of the Draw
Playing with Fire

Tahoe Nights

Playing With Fire 2

Twist of Fate

Coming Soon:

Vegas Nights

Wicked Weekend

Reckless Nights

Catch her if you can…

Kidnapping His Bride

© 2013 Karen Erickson

The Renaldis, Book 2
Rafael Renaldi is a modern man with an old-fashioned secret—an arranged marriage. Though it

was an informal agreement, made when they were children, Rafe has always been a little in love with
the beautiful, passionate Catalina Campioni. And assumed that the single, searing kiss they shared
years ago sealed the deal.

Marriage? Babies? Not now—not yet. After growing up witnessing her mother’s devastation over

her father’s cheating, Cat has no intention of settling down anytime soon. She plans to live life to the
fullest before marching down the aisle—and it definitely won’t be with womanizing, lethally
charming Rafe.

When Rafe realizes his bride-to-be wants nothing to do with him, he does what a crazed man might

do—he kidnaps her. But not to force her to the altar. She wants adventure? He’ll show her adventure,
and show her life with him will never be dull.

But even as they fall in love, someone close is desperate to keep them apart and will do whatever

it takes to ensure they won’t marry. Anyone. Ever…

Warning: Put a sexy, charming Italian hero together with a fiery, beautiful Italian heroine and

you have a combustible romance on your hands. Nothing like a good old-fashioned kidnapping and
arranged marriage to help a couple fall in love.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Kidnapping His Bride:

“You really want that? To end this?” he asked quietly, causing her head to jerk toward him.

“Because I don’t.”

An exasperated sigh escaped her and she shook her head. She really was extraordinarily beautiful

when she was angry. “You say things like that and the words mean nothing. You don’t know me, you
just like the idea of me.”

“The idea of you?” What did she mean?
“The thought of me as your sweet, young wife waiting for you at home while you’re out doing

whatever you want. Me, cleaning your house and warming your bed, making your meals and chasing
your children, tied to this…lonely, unfulfilled life. And you’ll get everything you could ever want.”
The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. She didn’t want this sort of life or want him.

But he didn’t want that sort of life either. Yes, he’d spoken to Matteo of the submissive little

woman waiting at home for him, but did he really mean it?

After spending just a few minutes with Catalina and seeing how she so desperately didn’t want a

marriage like that, neither did he.

He couldn’t believe how quickly she could change his mind.
“You’re sorely mistaken if you think that’s all I want from you,” he started, but the withering stare

she shot in his direction silenced him.

“Please. You’ll say all the right things now because you want me to believe you, but be honest with

yourself. You don’t know me, don’t love me or feel absolutely anything for me. Why would that
change when we’re married? It wouldn’t. It absolutely wouldn’t, and you know it. In fact, our
relationship would probably take a turn for the worse because we’ll slowly start to resent each other.
Resent our businesslike marriage and how we let it happen.” She paused, pressing her lips together.

Had she revealed too much? He was thankful for her candor even though it hurt.

“You don’t want a relationship based on nothing,” he said, his voice flat.
“Who would?”
She had a valid point, one he couldn’t argue. Quite frankly, he’d grown weary of the argument for

marriage in general. With Catalina, he got a sense that he couldn’t win. She would trump him every
single time.

Rafe knew the right move would be to back down and walk away. He didn’t want to—it was the

last thing he wanted to do, but he didn’t want to be trapped forever with a resentful wife either.

“You’re right,” he agreed, earning a shocked gasp in reply. “Our marriage would be based on

nothing but an outlandish agreement made years ago between two men whose children didn’t know
each other and never really would. I can’t ask you to marry me, Catalina. It wouldn’t be right.”

She was quiet for a moment, staring at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he just said that.
“It’s Cat,” she finally whispered, her voice trembling.
Frowning, he met her troubled gaze. “What did you say?”
“My friends and family, they call me Cat,” she explained, confusing him further. Certainly she

didn’t think of him as a friend or a member of her family.

So why mention the nickname now?
“It just sounds so formal when you call me Catalina,” she explained further when he didn’t reply.
“And isn’t that what you called our agreement? Too formal?” She had, hadn’t she? He couldn’t

remember. The endless words they’d spoken to each other this evening were all starting to run
together.

She shrugged. “Yes, but…I got tired of hearing you call me Catalina.”
“Well, Cat, I appreciate the sudden informality, but I suppose this is the end.” He liked the sound

of it. Cat. The nickname fit her. Made him think of a gorgeous, sleek feline, slinking into his life,
turning his head. This woman constantly aroused him to an almost painful state only to turn around and
leave him in the dust.

Exactly what she’d done to him tonight.
“I guess so,” she agreed, her voice hollow, her gaze…sad? No, it couldn’t be. He was reading her

wrong. He must’ve read her wrong for years.

What an idiot he was.
“This is what you want.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded. “Freedom. I’m dying for a taste of freedom. I want to see the world

before I settle down, you know? We used to spread our time evenly between Chicago and here, but
the last few years, we’ve rarely left Italy.”

Chicago was the U.S. base for Campioni, where many of their relatives lived and also maintained a

small branch. But Carlo Campioni had run out of funds, hence his inability to return to the States. Not
that Rafe would throw his knowledge of their financial state in her face. He knew most everything
about her family.

Not marrying him wouldn’t give her an opportunity for freedom. Didn’t she realize she’d only

become married to her family business if she didn’t wed him? That it would suck her dry, working so
hard to build the company back up after her father had nearly destroyed it?

But she wouldn’t listen to reason, not now, especially coming from him. Still, he couldn’t help but

say something.

“If you gave me a chance, I could’ve shown you the world. Together, just the two of us,” he said

softly.

Surprise flitted over her face, her full lips parting, forming a little O. “Don’t say things you don’t

mean.”

“I never do.”
Silence settled between them once again, thick with promise. Could she not sense it? Feel it? The

tension between them? The attraction? It was more than obvious to him, permeating the air and
making it hard for him to focus. She looked frazzled too, her eyes full of confusion, her cheeks flushed
a delicious pink. She gnawed on her lower lip as if she wanted to chew a hole in it, and he wondered
what she might be thinking.

Not that she’d tell him, oh no. She’d already written him off as bad for her. As if his sole intention

was to ruin her life and leave her a domesticated slave available to his every whim.

A rather unfair assumption, and one he couldn’t seem to convince her out of.
“I appreciate you giving me no trouble,” she finally said, drawing herself up to her full height as

she thrust her shoulders back, looking so very mighty and strong despite her petite stature. “And
letting me back out of this agreement between us. You know it was the right thing to do.”

“If you say so,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving her pretty, oh-so-tempting face. “Give me one

last kiss goodbye, then? Between old friends and ex-future husband and wife?”

She rolled her eyes, some of the fire back. He liked seeing that hint of fire, the flash of defiance.

Maybe Matteo was right. A little feistiness in a woman wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “You must be
kidding.”

He schooled his expression, trying for solemn. Really, he wanted to laugh, yank her into his arms

and lay one on her. “I never kid about kisses, Cat. That is one thing you’d learn if you were to marry
me.” There was heated promise in his voice and he hoped like hell she noticed.

Pressing her lips together, she approached him quickly, leaning in for the fastest, barest peck upon

his lips he’d ever experienced.

But he was quicker than that, thank Christ. He slung his arm around her slim waist and hauled her

in, her slender, slightly curvy body pressing up against his, her lips achingly close to his mouth. She
tempted him beyond measure, despite her eager rejection and he wanted to prove to her that they
could be good together.

If only she would give him a try.
Without warning, he pressed his mouth to hers, softly. Reverently. Her eyes were wide open as she

stared up at him, and he broke the kiss, letting his lids fall to half-mast as he leaned in and kissed her
again. One corner of her mouth, then the other, tasting those succulent lips, pleasure rippling through
him when she closed her eyes as if lost to the deliciousness of his mouth on hers. Savoring her lips,
he darted out his tongue quickly, tasting her. Drawing the moment out as slowly as he could. Using it
to his advantage so maybe, just maybe, he could get her to change her mind.

That he had to work so hard to try and change her mind was mind-blowing, but nothing had been

normal about this situation from the start. What could he expect?

Withdrawing from her for the barest second, he studied her pretty, upturned face, her damp lips, her

closed eyes and those thick, dark lashes. God, she was a true beauty, one he wanted to explore
further, but she shut him down. Not giving him a chance.

So he took another kiss, this one lingering longer, coaxing her lips apart with his own as best as he

could but she held firm. Stubborn female, he thought with slight amusement when he finally broke the
kiss, noting the telltale throb of her pulse at the base of her neck when she opened her eyes to stare up
at him in silent awe.

She was just as affected by the kiss as he was. Perhaps even more so. Triumph surged through him

even knowing that she could still walk away.

“Goodbye, Cat,” he whispered, wishing his mouth was on hers once more.

She needed answers, but he gives her a place she can call home.

Count on Me

© 2014 Lauren Dane

Petal, Georgia, Book 3
Petal is the last place Caroline Mendoza thought she’d end up. Sixteen years ago she lost both

parents there—her mother to murder and her father to prison for the crime. Since then she’s built a
successful life, but she’s never let go of the belief her father is innocent.

Now she’s back in Petal to find the truth. With a new job and a mystery to solve, she’s got plenty

on her plate. But when she bumps into Royal Watson, the sparks fly hard and fast.

When the whipsmart, opinionated lawyer blows into town like a beautiful storm, Royal has a

reason to make the time to get off his organic farm and pursue her. And soon their intense attraction is
tipping into something more.

As Caroline’s dogged investigation digs up ghosts of the past, there’s not much time for basking in

love’s glow. The closer she gets to the truth, the more threatened the real killer gets…and the greater
the danger that all her digging could lead to her own grave.

Warning: Laid-back ranchers who are really sneak alpha males, tight butts in wranglers, and

creative use of belts and buckles. Bad words, hot sex, and lots of pie—sometimes all at once.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Count on Me:

Caroline stared up the box she needed.
On the top shelf.
Naturally.
Sighing, she looked through her cart to for something to use to tip it down. Nothing that would

work.

Muttering a curse, she stretched and just barely missed it. She’d totally climb the shelves if she had

to but the last time she’d tried it, she’d ended up knocking a bunch of jars down and they broke and it
was pretty embarrassing. Heaven knew she had enough to work against as it was without an incident
on aisle ten with cereal.

“Lemme get that for you.”
She looked to the side at the very tall cowboy who’d sidled up to use all his height to retrieve her

box of cereal.

“This here?” He pointed at the natural cereal she liked.
“Yes, thanks.”
He grabbed it.
“Can you please get two? I figure I may as well just have a backup now, you know in case you

aren’t around the next time I’m here.”

He pulled one more down and turned to drop them in her cart. That’s when she realized it was

Royal Watson. All grown up.

He faced her and all her parts stood up and cheered. Like a full-stadium wave.
“Hey, it’s Caroline Mendoza.”
Oh. That accent. All Southern charm. Sexy and slow, like he tasted every word, savoring it before

he let it go. She did love a Southern drawl coming from a man who used words like ma’am when they
opened doors and retrieved things from high shelves. She knew it was pretty old school of her, but
damn she didn’t even care.

“Hey, it’s Royal Watson. Thanks again for the assist.”
His grin made her want to moan.
Back in high school, he’d been two grades ahead. He’d been that super cute older boy who

probably never noticed her existence. And of course by the time she’d grown into her body, he’d
grown into his everything and she’d left town.

He had great hands. She tore her gaze away from them and her brain from imagining them on her

because hello, grocery store, in front of people and all.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he got just a smidge closer. “It’s good to see you. You’re in

town. For a visit or?”

She laughed, putting a hand at her hip. “Come on now. Are we pretending you haven’t already

heard I moved back to Petal? I may have forgotten my share of things about living in small towns, but
your business is everyone’s business.” And her past had so much meat for the gossip table, she knew
tongues had been wagging ever since she signed the lease on her apartment three weeks before.

“All right. Well, my Aunt Denver is famous for two things. First, she makes the best coconut cake

in a hundred-mile radius. Maybe even the whole state of Georgia, but there’s some serious old-lady
cake competition out there so I can’t be totally sure. Second, she’s got a nose for gossip that is, as my
uncle says, unparalleled. I was just being neighborly and was gonna let you divulge all the details to
me yourself.”

She pushed her cart and he followed. “Yes, I’m back for good.”
He loped along at her side. “I may as well come with you. You’re what they call size challenged.

In case you need something else from the top shelf, I’ll come in handy.”

“Oh you’re not going to use the S word? Go on then. Short. I’m short.”
“Why, Ms. Mendoza, I do believe you’re yanking my chain. I think you’re more fun sized than

short.”

She blushed. “I don’t know why they have to have shelves that are so high to start with. How do all

the little old ladies get their cereal anyway?”

“Darlin’, they eat Cheerios and mother’s oats. All that fancy organic stuff is on the high shelf

’cause it’s just you city girls who eat it. I’d check the sell-by date on it, just in case it went bad in
2010 or something.”

“There’s not a darned thing wrong with wanting healthy options.”
He grinned again. “I’m teasing. Well, I’m telling the truth, but also teasing. Heck, we converted the

farm into an organic operation three years ago. I’m always happy when people want the healthier
option.”

“You did? That’s awesome.”
Before she could ask more questions, they had to skirt around a gaggle of women who gave him the

once-over twice.

“I see it’d be impossible to take you anywhere.” Caroline gave him a raised brow.
He held his hands out all innocent-like. “You, sweet thing, can take me anywhere you like. In any

case, I can’t be blamed for being so handsome and charming.”

She laughed. Good Lord he was adorable.
“So you’re working with Edward Chase then?”
“I bet the gossip already knows what color my sheets are too. Yes. My first day is Monday.”
“Makes sense you’re a lawyer now. You did love to argue back in school.”
As if he’d ever noticed her! Had he?
She managed to pretend she was cool and not giddy. Probably worked. “My uncle says it’s a

wonderful thing when you can make a living off your most annoying trait.”

She paused to put some soup in her cart. “Can you?” She pointed toward the chicken broth.
“There’s cans of it right there,” he said as he pulled the carton down.
“I have to buy three of the cans to make one of those cartons. And I can use the carton more than

once. It has a screw-on top.”

“Ah.”
Back toward the front of the store he paused, turning to her so she was caged in by the buggy and

his body.

Her heart sped as he seemed to block out everything but him.
He lowered his voice, getting just a little closer. “You grew up gorgeous, Caroline.”
She licked her lips, his gaze locked on her mouth. A blush crept up her neck, and she tightened her

hold on the buggy before she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him close for a kiss.

So close she could see the gold flecks in his green eyes. The shadow of the dent in his chin even

through the scruff of his beard. His skin was sun kissed, his body one of a man who worked outside a
lot.

The heat of his body washed over her as the scent of him—of the cold air outside, the detergent

from his shirt—reached her nose. It turned out to be pretty difficult not to lean in and sniff him. She
bet he smelled really good where his neck met his shoulder.

“Whatever can you be thinking? I hope it’s really dirty.”
He was without a doubt ridiculously sexy. There was chemistry between them, for damn sure.
It was…sweaty palms, dry mouth, slow-dance-in-a-high-school-gym chemistry. He made her giddy

and silly even as he made her tingly and super hot for him. All in the freezer section of the local
grocery store in Petal. That took some major testosterone.

“I’m pretty sure the frozen peas don’t need to hear my dirty thoughts. As for your compliment? Uh,

my genes thank you. Except the ones that made me short. Though I sort of think fun sized is a good
descriptor.”

“I bet the peas would be as excited to hear you talk dirty as I am. You should give me your phone

number so I can call you and ask you out.”

Lord he made her smile. “I should?”
“Oh yeah. I give really good date. How long’s it been since you’ve been dancing, Caroline?”
“Too long apparently.” She cocked her head and looked up at him. “Well, Royal, I’ll make you a

deal.”

“Oh yeah? Let me hear it then. I’m sort of easy for big brown eyes.”
It had been years since she’d flirted like this. It felt really good.
“You find me in town, and the next time I see you, I might just give you my number. Until then thank

you for your assistance with the high shelves.”

She winked and moved past him. “It was very nice to see you again. And for the record? You grew

up awful sexy.”

eBooks are not transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used

fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is

entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Falling for Her Husband

Copyright © 2014 by Karen Erickson

ISBN: 978-1-61922-300-4

Edited by Amy Sherwood

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except

in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

electronic publication: July 2014

www.samhainpublishing.com

Table of Contents

Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
Look for these titles by Karen Erickson