Pretending She’s Mine Read online

  “No fever,” she reported.

  I smiled weakly. “That’s great.”

  I had a thousand questions for her. How had I ended up here? What did Asher have to do with it? Where did this raging headache come from? And could I please just get up and go pee?

  But as she finished up her basic examination, the air shifted.

  I didn’t have to hear his voice to know he was in the room. My body knew. I’d always had an uncanny Asher radar under my skin.

  “Why didn’t you page me?” he asked the nurse. There was a darkness in his voice that made me shiver.

  “She’s only been awake a few minutes, sir,” she answered.

  They spoke as if I weren’t here between them.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to look in his eyes. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I closed my eyes, praying the nurse would stay as a buffer between us. I didn’t know her, but I was willing to throw myself on her to keep her from leaving.

  “You may leave us, Agnes,” he dismissed her casually. “I’d like to talk to Miss Tessier. Alone.”

  No!

  “Whatever you need, sir. I’ll be in my room checking supplies and updating Miss Tessier’s records.” She reached for a canvas bag and walked out. As soon as Agnes was gone, I knew I was trapped. I couldn’t run. I could barely prop myself up. What in the hell was happening?

  “How are you feeling?” Asher asked, as if this was somehow normal. As if we were normal. He walked closer.

  “Terrible,” I answered truthfully. Was it terrible because we were in the same room together? Terrible because I was confused? Terrible because my entire body felt foreign to me?

  “Are you in pain? I have every medication you were prescribed. I can get you anything you want,” he offered. “Possibly more. Just say the word. Agnes is the best. The absolute best at pain management.”

  I shook my head. “No more pain meds,” I responded. “That’s not necessary.”

  “That’s a positive sign.”

  “Sign of what?”

  He rubbed the scruff along his jaw. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. I was afraid to study his face any closer. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to gaze into his eyes. Oh no. Not happening.

  “That your recovery is going well,” he answered.

  “Right. My recovery.” I glanced over the mound of blankets to where my toes wiggled at the foot of the bed. Agnes had layered several quilts on top of me.

  I hated being in this position. He knew something I didn’t. It seemed he knew everything about this situation. He understood the circumstances and what had happened. He knew the nurse and knew this bedroom. My fingers curled around the soft comforter in frustration. I hated being at a disadvantage, especially in front of Asher. I still didn’t understand what was happening. The worst part was I had to depend on him for answers.

  “I think I’m better now,” I lied. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you do whatever it is you do now.”

  I didn’t know if it was possible to walk out of this room, but I wanted to try. I wanted to get as far away from Asher Westbrook as I could before we exchanged anymore small talk. Before he asked question. Before he told me something about himself. Some tiny anecdote that I wouldn’t be able to forget. I had to get out of here before any of that happened.

  Asher towered over the side of the bed. “Journey, don’t you remember what happened to you?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Journey.” His voice was stern and controlling.

  How many times had I heard that tone? But it had been two years since I was in a room with Asher. Two long years of doing everything in my power to erase his memory. Erase the hold he had on me.

  “What?” I refused to look at him.

  He moved closer. The air was suddenly thicker. His body was next to mine. His finger landed on the underside of my chin and tilted it upward.

  “Do you know why I brought you to Big Bear? Do you remember anything about the attack yesterday?” he asked.

  If I stared at his chest it would be better. I tried to tell myself not to think about how sculpted and chiseled it was. How muscle met muscle in hard angles under his crisp white shirt. I spotted the gun tucked at his waist. Holy shit. What was going on? Was he a bodyguard again?

  “I’m tired.” I sighed. “And thirsty. And honestly, I’d like to get up and pee. So could you call the helpful nurse back in to give me some water?”

  “Journey, look at me.”

  I never wanted my eyes to drift to his. But there was something about Asher that I couldn’t deny. I blamed the long eyelashes. The smolder was undeniable. And how when he looked at me it was as if he could read my soul. He wasn’t supposed to be able to do that. Not now, not ever.

  But I did as he told me. I wasn’t prepared for the sudden well of tears. His eyes said everything. He was worried and scared. He was protective and overbearing.

  “What?” I whispered. Once I started, I couldn’t look away. It was everything I had fought against.

  If we held this gaze, was it possible to get to know each other again without having to say a word?

  “It’s ok if you can’t remember. It will come back to you. And you’re safe here. Nothing and no one will hurt you. I promise. You have time to recover. Time to remember when you’re ready.”

  My lip started to tremble. What was he doing to me? There were two vacant years between us. He didn’t deserve my tears. He left me. He walked out. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. The pain he had caused was unbearable. How did I shield myself from him?

  Maybe I didn’t know why I was here or what happened to me, but I wasn’t ready to forget the hollow feeling he had created in my chest. I hadn’t forgiven him. I had no intention of ever forgiving him.

  “I-I just want to get up and take a shower. Please.” I turned my head before he could see the first tear fall.

  “I’ll get Agnes. Hold on,” he offered.

  He strolled out of the room. The tears were heavy on my lashes. Asher Westbrook was a liar. A horrible liar. Because as long as he was here my heart was going to break over and over. There was no way he could protect me from that kind of pain.

  Five

  Asher

  I paced in the living room. It was the longest hour of my life. I waited for Journey to finish her shower. She had dismissed Agnes almost as soon as I sent her in. I realized maybe she just wanted me out of the room. Could I blame her?

  She hated me.

  There was a side of Journey I knew that few did. She was a survivor. She was strong and tenacious. I never dismissed her ability to claw her way up from a humble childhood. The woman I loved had always defied the odds. Maybe it was one of the reasons I knew I could leave—she would survive without me, no matter how painful it was.

  I glanced at my phone when it rang. I was hoping for an update from my team, but it was Mickey.

  “Mickey, what do you have for me?”

  “Good morning, sir. How are things in L.A.?” she asked calmly.

  “Actually, I’m in Big Bear.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “Well, I hate to ask, sir, but…”

  “What is it?”

  “Avajean. She and Nicole were supposed to travel this morning, but I called Nicole and told her that she needed to stay in Valencia a few more days.”

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “Was that wrong? Would you like me to fly them back to New York? I can do that.”

  “No. It wasn’t wrong.” I shook my head. I had thrown all my energy into having Journey moved from the hospital last night. I hadn’t called to check in with Avajean.

  “If you’re in Big Bear, should I have a car drive them to you? They aren’t far away. It would be easy to arrange.”

  The knot under my ribs tightened. That would mean Journey would meet Avajean. She would know the truth about why I left. I didn’t think either of us w
ere prepared for that conversation. It was clear she was confused about yesterday’s attack. I couldn’t heap this problem on her.

  “Mickey, tell Nicole to stay where she is. If Gene and Shelly need them to leave, find something suitable. I’d like Avajean nearby, but I’m not ready for her to arrive at the cabin.”

  “Absolutely. Anything else?”

  I exhaled. “I’m going to be in Big Bear for a while. Clear my New York schedule. Clear everything for the next couple of days, and I’ll be back online in a couple days for calls.”

  “I will handle everything.”

  “Good. Thank you. Please tell Nicole I will call tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hung up and looked out the window at the tree line. I had to decide what was safest for Avajean. For now, everyone was most protected by holding onto the truth a little while longer.

  Until I had some answers, it was going to be difficult to work on capturing Journey’s attacker. The police had visited this morning but, while Journey was unconscious, there wasn’t much they could do. I wanted to speak to her first.

  I hadn’t visited the cabin in Big Bear in over a year. It was far from L.A. and there was no reason to think the paparazzi would be able to find her here. Keeping her safe meant keeping her off the public’s radar. As far as they knew, she was at her Malibu home recovering. Dante was instructed to move in and out of her compound as if she were there. I wanted food deliveries. Flowers. All the expected activity surrounding Journey’s recovery. I wanted whoever had done this to believe she was in Malibu.

  I flattened a large map on the coffee table and sat on the couch. I needed to focus on the attack. I circled the locations of Journey’s timeline for the seventy-two hours prior to the shooting. Dante had reluctantly forwarded her schedule to me. He threatened to ride up to Big Bear if Journey didn’t call the minute she awakened. He was the only one who knew where she was. It was a reluctant agreement I made with him. I traded revealing her actual location with taking over her security.

  The door creaked open and I looked up.

  God, she was gorgeous. I had tried to forget how soft her lips were. How the sunlight made her eyes look like the Caribbean Sea. For years, I built a security empire without a single glimpse of Journey Tessier’s breathtaking body. But I was a fucking idiot to think I could erase her. The lines of her body had been seared into my hands. I knew every curve and freckle. I couldn’t forget her, even when I drowned myself in bourbon and brunettes.

  “How was the shower?” I asked.

  Her hair hung in damp tendrils on her shoulders.

  “Good. I needed it.” She walked toward me.

  “Feeling any better?”

  She shrugged. “Where did these clothes come from?”

  “I had a few things sent here while you recuperate.”

  “A few things? I saw an entire closet full of outfits in my size,” she argued.

  “I might have gone a little overboard,” I admitted.

  “You can return them. All of them. They aren’t necessary. And as soon as I’m home, I’ll have this outfit delivered to you.” She glanced down at the flowing pants and tank top that clung to her breasts. “I’ll call my driver to come pick me up. Or Dante. I’m sure he’d rather do it himself anyway.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  She ignored my answer and walked past the couch. “Where is my phone?” She scanned the dining room table and the kitchen counter.

  “Journey, you aren’t going anywhere. You’re staying here.”

  “The hell I am.” It was the first glimpse of the spitfire I knew. I let out a deep breath, relieved she wasn’t different. That two years hadn’t changed her.

  I rose from the couch. “Someone tried to kill you yesterday. Until I find him, you’re not leaving.”

  “What did you say?”

  “The madman with the gun is still out there. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  I saw the fear flash across her eyes. She stepped back and gripped a chair.

  “Journey?”

  She sank into the seat. “Asher.”

  “What is it?” In one long stride, I was next to her. “Are you in pain?”

  She shook her head. “No. No.”

  I was on the verge of shouting for Agnes, but I realized this had nothing to do with her condition and everything to do with the realization that her life was in jeopardy.

  “I don’t remember it,” she whispered.

  “It’s ok. It will come back to you. You just need time to heal. Time to recover.”

  Her gaze whipped to mine. “Someone tried to kill me?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Not yet, anyway.”

  I wanted to pull her into my arms. Keep her safe. Tell her I’d kill the sick bastard who tried to hurt her. I’d never let her go again. But one thing at a time. Catch the killer first.

  Six

  Journey

  I knew it was bad. I knew it had to be something horrific for Asher to be back in my life. But a murderer? A killer on the loose? I was paralyzed. I lost the ability to think or speak. I sat in the chair and shook. I shook so hard my teeth rattled.

  I didn’t answer his questions. I didn’t move when he placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “That’s it. I’m taking you back to bed. You shouldn’t be up. It’s too much too fast.”

  I heard him speak. Archer’s arms lifted me in the air and he carried me to the bedroom. I wanted to protest. He had no right to touch me. To wrap his warmth around me. To comfort me. Or save me. I didn’t want any of it from him, yet at the same time, my instincts kicked in. I knew there was no one who could keep me safer. No one who had the intense level of detail where my safety was concerned.

  He strolled through the room, maneuvering around the furniture.

  I spoke up before he lowered me to the bed. “I can stand. I’m fine. You don’t need to carry me around like a doll.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “Yes, but I’m not an invalid.” I wiggled against him, feeling more like myself.

  Shock was the perfect word to describe it. I was filled with disbelief and bewilderment. How had something like this happened? And why couldn’t I remember it?

  “Fine.” He lowered me gently until my feet touched the floor.

  I quickly backed away as if his touch could singe my skin. I didn’t care if I lost my balance, or made myself dizzy.

  “I want to be alone,” I announced.

  He sat on the bed and crossed his arms. I knew then he was unmovable. “That’s not going to happen until I know you’re all right. I can get Agnes if you’d rather have her monitor you.”

  “I don’t need to be monitored!” I was angry enough to throw my arms in the air, but stopped when I felt the shooting pain against my shoulder.

  “You’re not going to remember anything like this. I’m not trying to scare you.”

  I closed my eyes. “Just leave, Ashe. Go.”

  “Not yet.”

  I felt his eyes on me, watching me. Observing every breath I took. Every sound I made. Every gesture. Every blink.

  “Staring at me isn’t going to help get my memory back.”

  “What will?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” I walked to the other side of the room. Maybe it would be easier to think with more distance between us. I curled up in an oversized chair near the window.

  “Is there anything that’s coming back to you? Anything at all? Even something that seems unimportant to you could be a lead,” he pressed. “Any memories? Anything in there?”

  I swallowed. I wanted to tell him I was drowning in memories. They had flooded every sense I had. Every thought. I remembered the way he used to kiss me. I remembered the sound of his voice against my throat. How his palm squeezed mine when we walked on the beach. How he was ticklish under his ribs, and how he was allergic to pineapple. I remembered the stories he told
me about Afghanistan and the missions he carried out. I wasn’t short on memories of Asher Westbrook.

  “No.” My voice was flat. I stared out the window.

  He sighed. “I’m not going to rush you. It will happen. You need more rest. You need to heal.”

  “Can you stop telling me what I need to do? You don’t know what I need.”

  Asher’s dark head moved from side to side. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “How long do I have to stay?” I didn’t know if I had the kind of strength it was going to take to guard myself from the emotional avalanche starting down the mountain. I could already feel it happening.

  He leaned forward, digging his elbows into his knees. I remembered that look. The seriousness in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched when he was worried about something.

  “First, let’s focus on you feeling better.”

  “How long?” I pushed. “I want to know how long you intend to keep me locked up in Big Bear.”

  “You’re not locked up, Journey. You’re safe. There’s a big difference.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “If I gave you the option to go back to Malibu right now, would you take it? Would you risk your life just to spite me?”

  My eyes blazed as I faced him. I wanted the answer to be that I would run out of here as fast as I could, but it wasn’t that simple. I didn’t know who I could trust. I couldn’t remember how I had been shot. I didn’t particularly want to test out my safety at the beach house. I was left with only one solution, and I hated him.

  “No.”

  “Good.” He pushed off the bed.

  “Where are you going?” I squeaked.

  “It looks like the shock has passed. I don’t think you’re in danger of passing out. I’m going to let you get some rest. If you remember anything, come find me. My room is down the hall.”

  Of course he wanted me to find his bedroom. I wasn’t going there. I’d never go there again.

  “Good night, Journey.”

  He closed the door and was gone.

  Seven