Mills & Boon Introduces: What Lies Beneath / Soldier, Father, Husband? / The Seven-Day Target

Then one day Dr. Takashi removed the last of the bandages and brought a hand mirror with him. Cynthia hadn’t wanted to look at first. She had no idea what she would find. Her mother was an attractive older woman, and her younger sister, Emma, was cute in an awkward, teenaged way, but she had no assurance she didn’t take after her father. George was a regal, commanding man, but she wouldn’t say he was handsome. He had a nose like a hawk’s beak and eyes that appeared cold and beady when he focused unhappily on hospital staff.

Looking in the mirror that first time had been hard, but it had gotten easier. Every time she saw her reflection she looked better. The expressions on her family’s faces were encouraging. But the one thing no one had done was bring her a photo of how she looked before the accident. Her mother had brought in a shoebox of pictures, pointing out different people for her to try to remember, but not a single one had her in it.

Returning to the apartment, one of the first things she was greeted with was a large canvas photo of her and Will. She was almost startled when she rounded the corner to the living room and came face-to-face with her former self.

It looked like the kind of engagement portrait that would go in a newspaper announcement. Her long, dark hair was swept over her shoulder, revealing large sapphire earrings that complemented the royal blue dress she had on. Will was looking handsome, yet casual, in khakis and a light blue dress shirt. They were sitting together under a tree.

The woman in the portrait had elegant, delicate features. Her skin was flawless and creamy, her eyes a clear, bright green. Her makeup was applied so well it took a keen eye to notice she had any on at all. She looked every bit the daughter and fiancée of two powerful Manhattan families.

She’d expected to be upset when she finally saw a photo of herself, but she found the experience to be oddly vacant. It was like looking at a picture of a stranger. Disconnected.

Now, watching her reflection in the partially foggy mirror, it was hard not to draw the comparison and catalog the vast differences. The high cheekbones and delicate nose had taken the brunt of the accident. Time would tell if the plates and implants Dr. Takashi used would bring back the prominent features.

Only the eyes and the smile looked like the portrait to her. Smiling in the mirror, she admired her new teeth. They were much like the photo, though they, more than anything, still felt wrong when she tried to eat or talk. And the eyes…well, the expression behind them was different. Perhaps when the photo was taken she wasn’t so confused.

Her hairstylist had blown her hair straight after cutting it that morning. It was twisted up in a towel at the moment, but she knew the unruly kink would be back once it dried. She wondered how she would blow it out again with one good arm, then decided she didn’t care enough to bother. Wavy hair was the least of her worries.

With a sigh, Cynthia poured a bit of lotion from the hospital into her hand and gently rubbed it into her face and neck. It was supposed to help with the scars and overall healing. Somehow, she doubted it would do enough.

More than anything, even if she never looked like she did in that portrait again, Cynthia wanted to feel right in her own skin. And she just didn’t. Lotion couldn’t fix that.

“I bet that felt nice after all those sponge baths.”

Cynthia snapped her head to the side and found Will leaning casually against the doorframe, his hands buried in his pockets. He’d been working for so long she’d forgotten he was home.

Self-consciously, she tugged her towel up higher over her breasts and held it tight to keep it from coming undone. She could admit to herself she was attracted to him—the blush spreading across her face was evidence of that—but being mostly naked in front of him was a distinct disadvantage. They may very well have seen each other naked a hundred times, but she had no recollection of it. He was a stranger, like he’d said earlier. Everyone was, including herself.

He noted her reaction, stiffening instantly and taking a step back. “I’m sorry. This probably makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t think about that. I’ll go.”

“No, don’t,” she said, reaching out to him before she could stop herself. She didn’t want to be alone any longer. She’d wandered, confused and sad, through the apartment all afternoon, hoping anything would jog her memory. Having him here, even with her half-naked, was a welcome change.

He paused, then held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”

Will returned a moment later with a fluffy, ice-blue chenille bathrobe. “This was your favorite. You liked to wear it in the evenings to curl up on the couch and read a book with your favorite glass of wine.”

Cynthia stood, still clutching her towel, and let him drape the robe over her shoulders. She slipped into the enveloping warmth, dropped the towel to her feet and tied the robe closed. It immediately quelled her concerns, covering her from neck to toe.

With the hot shower and the soft robe, she really couldn’t imagine feeling any better. At least until her fingers brushed his as she adjusted the collar. The glide of his skin across hers sent a tingle down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool marble and tile bathroom. She gasped softly and his fingers pulled away. She turned to look at him, her heart beating erratically in her chest. How did he do that to her with a simple touch? “This is great,” she muttered sheepishly.

“Thanks.”

He nodded, stepping back, but still watching her in a way that made her want to readjust her robe under his scrutiny. She wished she understood what was behind his gaze. He had an intensity about him that attracted her, but she couldn’t decipher what it meant when he focused it on her. Was it desire? Subdued anger? Curiosity?

“Are you hungry?”

Apparently, she was confusing the look of lust with hunger. “Yes,” she admitted. The last thing she remembered eating was some manifestation of Salisbury steak before she was discharged.

“What would you like?”

“Anything but hospital food,” she said with a smile.

“Okay,” he said, matching her grin. “I’ll go pick up something and bring it back. There’s a nice Thai place not too far from here. Would you like to try that?”

“Sure. Just don’t get me anything too spicy,” she offered. She had no idea if she would like it or not, but that should be safe enough.

With a nod, Will turned and left. Seconds later she heard the front door open and close behind him.

To prepare for dinner, she detangled her hair and went to the closet in search of something comfortable. Some of the clothes were too tight, but Will mentioned she’d been dieting for the wedding. She flipped farther into the racks, finding some older things in a larger size. She was eyeing a stretchy pair of yoga pants when the phone rang.

For a moment, she was startled, not quite sure what to do. It felt like answering someone else’s phone, but it wasn’t. The call might very well be for her. Telling herself that it could be Will, she went into the bedroom and picked the phone up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Cynthia?” the man’s voice asked, but it wasn’t Will. This voice was deeper, quieter, as though he didn’t want anyone to hear him but her.

“Yes, this is Cynthia. Who’s calling?”

The man hesitated for a moment. “Baby, it’s Nigel.”

Nigel. The name didn’t ring even the slightest bell, although he said it as if it explained everything. But he called her “baby.” She didn’t like that at all. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. I’ve had an accident and the doctors diagnosed me with amnesia.”

“Amnesia? My God, Cynthia. I’ve got to see you. These past few weeks I’ve been going mad with worry. Your cell phone is disconnected. I couldn’t get into the hospital because I wasn’t family. All I know is what I read in the papers about the crash, and it wasn’t much. Please tell me I can see you soon. Maybe tomorrow while Will is at work?”

Cynthia’s stomach sank. Will hadn’t elaborated on the details of her affair, but it didn’t take much to realize Nigel was her lover.

Will’s voice crept into her mind. You have a choice.

And she did. The past was the past. Will had offered her a clean slate and with it, perhaps a future together. At first, she hadn’t been quite certain what to make of it. She had obviously been unhappy with Will before and wasn’t certain if a bump to the head could make everything better between them. But she at least wanted to try. For now, she wanted Will to stay. The man on the phone would ruin any chance they had.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, wait. I’ll take an early train from the Bronx and meet you for coffee.”

“No. Please stop calling. Goodbye.” She disconnected and set the phone back onto the cradle. A few seconds later it rang again, the same number lighting up the screen. She didn’t answer it. The phone finally went silent and she waited nervously for a moment, but he didn’t call back.

That done, she took a deep breath and returned to the closet to get ready for her first dinner with Will.

Three

Will sat at his desk, staring blankly at his laptop. After dinner, he’d returned to his office to work as he usually did. He spent most evenings working. Newspapers didn’t run themselves, and given that most of his days were filled with unproductive but necessary meetings, it was the only time he could dig through his email and actually get something done. Some people might’ve been bothered by the long hours he put in to keep the Observer at the top of its game, but Will didn’t mind. In fact, over the past few years, his office and unending stream of work had become a sanctuary from his failing relationship.

And yet tonight, with at least a hundred unread emails in his inbox, he couldn’t focus on the work. His thoughts kept straying to Cynthia.

He watched her roam around the apartment through the glass French doors that separated his office from the living room. When he’d left to pick up dinner, he thought things were okay between them. Better than okay if he let himself think too long about her shower-damp skin and the skimpy bath towel she was wrapped in. He hadn’t seen that much of Cynthia’s body in quite some time, and his visceral reaction to her was immediate and powerful. Fortunately the brisk walk to the takeout place had served as a cold shower, and by the time he had returned, he had it under control.

But now she seemed nervous around him. They’d eaten their Thai food in the dining room, filling the space between bites with harmless small talk. But he noticed an edge that wasn’t there earlier. When the phone rang, she nearly launched from her seat to beat him to answering it, and it was just Pauline checking to make sure she was settled in. The mother and daughter chatted while he cleaned up dinner and disappeared into his office.

Will couldn’t help but think that maybe she’d picked up on his attraction and it made her uncomfortable. He’d mentioned the possibility of a future together—nothing was impossible—but he wasn’t sold on the idea. He just wished his body and brain were on the same page.

He wasn’t surprised when she disappeared into the bedroom fairly early. She was probably exhausted after her first day out of the hospital. On top of the physical challenges, their talk had stirred up a lot of information that could be stressful to process. Dumping their past on her today was probably a mistake with her fragile condition, but she wanted honesty.