Amnesia

Chapter Seven - Part 2

The ride back to the house was a nightmare. Orlando was driving like his life depended on it, almost crashing a few times. Relief filled her chest when she saw the now familiar road of her own.

"Well?" she demanded when he pulled up in front of her house. She didn't bother looking at the huge mansion. It would probably look romantic and safe, and it would make her insecure again. Something was going on that she wasn't a part of, but where she still had the main role.

Orlando sighed. "You're allergic to nuts".

"Oh, really?" she said sarcastically. Turning her head to look at Orlando, she saw how hard his hands clenched the wheel.

"I thought..." he hesitated. He met her gaze. "I thought you were faking your amnesia."

She froze. All color left her face. What could she say to that? She couldn't very well accuse him of being a bastard, since she couldn't blame him. If somebody told her that they had amnesia she would've probably laughed in that persons face.

Mutedly, she exited the Porsche. There was nothing she could say. He hadn't lied to her. If she had really not had amnesia, she would have known not to eat the soup. It had been a test.

"I passed?" she asked quietly, turning to face him. Their eyes met in the dark. He nodded. "Thank you for dinner."

The heels of her shoes clicked on the ground as she walked away. Behind her she heard the tiny bleep from the lock of the car and his footsteps walking up to her. "I'm sorry, Marley, but it had to be done. If the press found out about your amnesia and that you were faking it, it would cause a huge scandal. We did it to protect the company."

"We?" She looked at him as they stopped in front of the door.

Orlando unlocked the door and held it open for her. "Your mother, me and Eric", he said when she had stepped inside.

"I figured as much." Silence filled the hallway. She didn't know what to say. "Well... goodnight then..." There was uncertainty in her voice.

"Sleep well." He took her hand, holding her back when she started to leave. "Don't worry." A lump formed in her throat. He was so nice to her. She nodded. With a small smile, he released her hand. "I'll call you tomorrow", he added when he saw the tears in her eyes. Still smiling, he left her alone in the big house.

The soft thud from the door echoed in the hallway. Suddenly the loneliness came crashing down. A small tear slipped from her eye down her cheek. Why her? Her hand shook when she lifted it to her wet chin. She couldn't help it, a shaky and panicked laugh escaped from in between her lips. Why her? Everything was such a blur. The people around her were strangers, she didn't even know her password to her computer, and the one called her fiancé tried to kill her. She shook her head. Not kill her. Nail her. And it wasn't even something she could blame him.

Thinking of what had happened during dinner caused her to wrinkle her brows. Had Orlando meant that if she hadn't had amnesia she wouldn't have dared risk eating the soup? That she had no confidence in the fact that he could protect her? Something wasn't adding up. Before she had the chance to probe deeper in her mind about what had happened, a sound behind her made her flinch.

"That was a quick visit to the restaurant."

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. "Yeah. We had soup." Her voice was heavily colored with sarcasm.

"Nutmeg?" Eric asked. She only nodded. "Oh, your favorite!" His tone matched hers.

"Actually, it was delicious. It was just what happened after that wasn't very pleasant..." No way was she going to tell Eric what had happened at the restaurant.

He smiled softly. "I heard what had happened. Are you feeling okay now?"

His question caught her off guard. Did he know what had occurred? "Yeah, thanks."

"Well... if you need me for anything, I'll be in the library." He turned his back before she had a chance to answer him.

"Actually, there is one thing you could help me with, Eric."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he held the heavy looking door to the library open for her.

She nodded and stepped inside. "Yup. I want to see if I can find some family-related stuff in here." The door closed behind them, barely making a sound. "And for some reason, I trust you." She tensed. She hadn't meant to say that!

Eric laughed behind her.

"Anyway, she continued, "I know there has to be some sort of information in here. My father's a famous man. It would amaze me if there really is nothing of use to me."

"There is", Eric said simply. He walked past her, immediately disappearing behind a shelf. She stayed where he left her.

The library was huge. It looked like something out of the old world. The bookshelves were made of massive, dark oak, and stood back to back in rows. Books with rugged backs were pressed into each shelf, looking like it was about to burst and create something like an avalanche of papers. She smiled. The sight was strangely comforting.

"Marley, I think I found something!" Excitement layered his voice.

She followed the sound of his voice. When she found him, just behind the bookshelf were she had been standing, he was holding a thick binder. He was smiling. Coming up next to him she saw that the binder contained old articles. The paper was yellowed and the ink was blurred in some places. But even she could see that the article was about her father.

They bore a strange resemblance. She realized that the piece was old and that the picture was taken years back, but she couldn't deny the fact that they resembled each other. They shared the same catlike eyes, the petite nose and the mischievous grin. Her father was holding another man's shoulders as they both held up a small trophy.

Before she had the chance to read the small text under the picture, Eric closed the binder and put it back into the shelf. "Hey!" she protested. Unconsciously she put her hand on his bicep. It immediately became hard under her touch. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

Their eyes met. Once again she was amazed with how dark they were. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Her hand clenched on his arm. She felt like she was in a trance. Just the thought of breaking eye contact made her heart ache. It seemed like he felt the same. The hand that had held onto the binder dropped slowly, his fingers stroking the binders backs like he was caressing them. She shivered. Taking his hand from the bookshelf, he placed it on top of hers.

"Dangerous", he whispered. His voice struck her like he'd slapped her. Suddenly she noticed how close their heads were and the hunger in Eric's eyes. The word echoed in her head. She had to force her body away from his.

Taking a few steps back, she lifted her fingers to touch her lips. He hadn't kissed her, yet she could almost feel the taste of his mouth on hers. So this was desire. The thought was unwelcome in her mind. Swallowing hard, she looked at her feet. "I'm sorry..." The words choked in her throat.

"Don't be", he sighed. She peeked at his face. His eyes were once again focused on the bookshelf. An angry frown made his mouth tense and his neck stiff. She looked away again. "It was my fault. You can't remember anything and yet..." He turned his head towards her, and smiled. The harsh lines in his face turned soft. "Let's just continue our search, okay?"

She nodded obediently. He was right. It was no use starting anything. For all she knew she could be an undercover spy for the FBI. She giggled. Like that was a possibility.