Recaptured Dreams (17 page)

Xavier nursed his lukewarm coffee, scanning the folder of instructions he was leaving for Bryant. “I think this covers pretty much everything.” He rose, lifting the file into Bryant’s outstretched hand.

Bryant snatched the folder, flipping through the contents. “You sure this encyclopedia is enough?”

“Not funny. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and this covers all the Fashion Week shows from now until the middle of March.”

A scowled tugged at Bryant’s features. “Don’t you think I’ve been doing this long enough to
not
need a freaking instruction manual?”

Shrugging, Xavier moved past Bryant, out of the suite office, and into his room to pack. “It’s not an instruction manual,” Xavier shouted from there. “Think of it more like guidelines to follow if something goes wrong.”

Bryant leaned against the doorframe as Xavier jerked his suitcase from the bottom of the closet. “I know what I’m doing. Nothing will go wrong.”

Xavier plucked clothes from the hangers. “I know. Use it as a safety net. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Whatever.” Bryant strode into the room, eyeing Xavier’s prized notebook on the bedside table. “You still carry that thing?”

Xavier stopped packing and gave Bryant a careful stare. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Just thought you’d get tired of looking at it. Especially now since the muse for it is in living color instead of a memory.”

He shoved his last few pieces of clothing in the suitcase and grabbed the notebook off the nightstand. “This notebook
is
Sophia, Bryant.”

Bryant held up his hands. “Whoa. Don’t get all wounded-knee on me. I don’t want to hear the sappy story again.” He made a mocking gagging expression.

“Stop. That’s not funny.”

Bryant laughed deeply. “Sorry.” He settled himself on the bed next to the suitcase. “So what’s the plan?”

“What plan?” Xavier ran his fingers over the cover of the deeply faded notebook before placing it on top of his clothes. Exhaling, he zipped everything up, totally prepared to take this next step with the woman he’d chased for so long.

“What plan?”
Bryant tapped his fingers across the suitcase to draw Xavier’s attention up. “You seriously don’t have one?”

“Why would I need a plan? I’ve got the girl I’ve always wanted, and now we go back to America to get her memories. What else is there?” Xavier leveled a hard stare at him when Bryant’s mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’re not joking. You really think that you two will start a relationship and live happily ever after?”

“Why not? I mean, it’s pretty obvious she has feelings for me—even if she doesn’t remember how much she used to love me. We’ve only got to continue building off that, right?”

Bryant’s thick brow arched. “Did you ever stop to think that if you treat her like no time has passed, she’ll think you’re in love with a memory and not
her?”

Xavier frowned.

“I mean,” Bryant continued, “think about it. If you bombard her with your lovey-dovey attitude now, won’t she think it’s feelings from the past? No one would be that obsessed after one night—no one normal, anyway, and since you’re pretty normal, I’d say you better step back and let her lead this little journey.”

“Oh my God.” Xavier dropped down to the bed. “You’re right.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Stop.”

“Hey, sorry.” Bryant got up, tugging Xavier off the bed. “But you need to be realistic here and not fly by the direction of your emotions. You can’t expect her to know how you feel—have felt—all this time. You can’t expect her to think your love is genuine; you don’t know her now.”

Xavier rubbed a tense hand over his face. “All I have are memories, Bryant.”

“Are you sure you’re in love with
this
Sophia, then, and not a memory?”

Xavier jerked the luggage off the bed. “Of course I’m in love with this Sophia. She’s the same girl—woman.”

“Is she?”

“Yes,” Xavier hissed as he strode to the door.

“How do you know?
Xavier
. Stop. Listen to me.”

He halted before storming out.

“You’ll lose her if she thinks you’re only in love with the past.”

His hand clenched the handle of his suitcase. “Are you saying I should back away?”

“Yes.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

“Tell me, what is the purpose of your trip to America?”

Xavier turned, studying Bryant’s solemn expression. He was being serious. “To get her memories back. She needs them.”

“To remember you, right?”

“Yes.”

Bryant joined Xavier at the doorway and put a hand on his shoulder. “Then wouldn’t you say she needs to find her memories first? Then her love for you second?”

God, Xavier’s head was spinning. How could he have not seen that? Sure, he’d known he’d have to show Sophia all the things she couldn’t recall. He’d known he’d be starting with a blank canvas.

After getting his mind to stop running around in circles, he said, “And in the process of all of this, I learn about who she is
now?”

“Exactly.”

“So she can see I love both the past and present? Because I do, there’s no doubt about that. Nothing would ever change that.”

Bryant swung open the door to the suite. “I realize this isn’t what you had in mind, but if you want to keep her, you’ll have to start all over.”

Start all over.
The suitcase in Xavier’s hand suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. Dragging him down a path he didn’t even know existed.

After drawing a settling breath, Xavier looked at his brother one last time. “Well, I guess I have plan now. Not ideal, but a plan nonetheless. See you when I get back.”

“Good luck.”

As the door clicked shut behind Xavier, he realized he would need a lot of luck…or maybe a miracle.

Chapter Thirteen

S
OPHIA
H
AD
N
EVER
T
HOUGHT
a chance meeting at a fashion show would open the door to a world for which she’d searched for so long. Xavier Cain was the last man she’d ever expected to help replace part of her memory. As she sat next to him on his private plane on their way to America, she thought of how important he’d become in just a short time.

Her mother was still furious about the trip and had tried to convince her not to go. Sophia wondered what lost memories Katherine didn’t want that visit to force to the surface. She also reminded herself that, selfish as Katherine could be, she
was
her mother. Her mother, who had cared for her all those years ago and helped her through some difficult times.

Anne Marie had, on the other hand, had the opposite reaction of Katherine’s. She hadn’t been able to get Sophia out the door fast enough. It had taken Sophia a week to get her affairs in order before she could head to the States, and she’d spent that week wondering what the future held in store for her and Xavier. She hoped—no matter if she got her memories back or not—that it would be bright.

But as she looked at Xavier seated across from her on the plane, she couldn’t miss the distress marring his handsome features. When he wasn’t looking directly at her, he appeared lost somewhere in the past. Somewhere dark. Almost afraid. She wanted to draw him close and comfort him as he’d done for her in the garden, but at the same time, she didn’t really
know
him. It was a tight line to walk. A confusing one. He’d known Sophia from a time she didn’t remember, and now he appeared almost uneasy around her.

“We’re here,” Xavier said kindly, breaking Sophia’s train of thought.

Sophia glanced out the window. The runway approached.

Here we go.
She relaxed back into her seat. It would take time; she understood that. And her sticky emotions might take her for a ride. But with Xavier at her side, Sophia was pretty certain she could tackle anything.

From the airstrip they took a car around the winding roads to the Hamptons.

“Does this look familiar?” Xavier asked as they drove up to large white house on North Bay Lane in East Hampton.

The house was breathtaking, with three stories and arched dormers serving as the only windows on the top floor. It was surrounded by aged, winter-barren trees and several lush evergreen pines. An aggregate sidewalk led up to a large set of bright red double doors. A huge porch wrapped around, and large windows adorned the first two floors. A garage to the right could have housed numerous cars, and a white fence surrounded the property for as far as Sophia could see.

“No, I’m sorry,” she answered, trying to take it all in. The city had been what she’d expected, but the countryside was spectacular. Quaint cottages surrounded by enormous oaks overlooked the sea, and waves crashed like a calming, constant lullaby. She imagined the place in the full blossom of summer, with bursting green grass, bright leafy trees, flowers galore, and a swarm of birds flocking overhead.

“First,” Xavier said as he parked the car, “you’re going to have to stop apologizing. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry. Oh, wait…I’m sorry. Oh, there I go again.” Blowing out a puff of air, Sophia glanced at Xavier, who smiled.

“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s all a little overwhelming.”

“Yes, you could say that.”

“So.” He opened his car door. “Let’s go in.”

“Into this house?” She hadn’t been expecting a house of that size. Really, she hadn’t expected a house at all. She’d assumed they would stay in a hotel.

Xavier chuckled, the sound soothing to her frazzled nerves. “Yes, this house.”

Her flats clicked along the sidewalk as she walked alongside him with hesitant steps. She drew in a deep breath of crisp, cool air. It felt cleaner here, fresher. She was aware of his eyes on her face, as though he was looking for something.

“Should I remember this place?” she asked.

“Yes.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her up the three front porch steps. “It used to be your summer home.”

“My home?” Every muscle in her body went rigid. “Well, even so, we can’t just barge in there and ask for a tour, Xavier.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Xavier reached into his pocket and held up a set of keys.

“We don’t have to ask for a tour; it’s my home now.”

Her voice wavered. “Your home?”

“Yes,” he said, unlocking the door. “I bought it about two years ago when the people who bought it from your parents put it up for sale. Got a good deal, too. Their business had just gone belly up, and they were trying to liquidate some assets.”

“But why did you buy it?”

“Because it was for sale.”

His hand waved her inside, but she couldn’t move. She was glued to the wooden porch.

“No. That’s not what I mean,” she said. God, was her voice cracking? “Why did you want to buy
this
house?”

“Please. Come in?”

Her breath hitched in her throat.
One foot in front of the other.
That’s all she needed to do. But it was very hard to stride into a house that used to belong to her parents. One that she’d run the halls of, slept in, and possibly enjoyed.

She could do it. She had to.

Forcing the stiffness from her legs, she took a giant, jerky step across the threshold. An overwhelming scent almost knocked her over. It wasn’t the flowers or leather furniture she saw or the smell of cleaning supplies.
His
scent consumed her. That intoxicating scent of sweet honey; the entire house was filled with it. Her breath rushed out. Now she would literally be surrounded by Xavier twenty-four seven.

“Are you okay?” The warmth of his fingers curled around her elbow.

She shook her senses back into place. “Yes, of course.” A slow smile lifted her face. “It smells wonderful in here.”

Xavier’s eyes wrinkled at their corners. “Thank you.”

Now inside, her eyes scanned everything. A sitting room, living room, kitchen, and dining room could all be seen from where she stood. Everything was open and bright, with light streaming in from a wall of windows at the back of the house. There were tan marble floors, muted walls, and a ceiling that must have been fifteen feet high. No plants, no flowers, empty of any trinkets. Lonely.

When she found her voice, she asked her question again. “Why did you buy
this
house?”

His head dipped, his eyes catching the light beaming in from one of the massive windows. “Because it reminded me of you.”

She felt herself grimace before she could stop herself. Xavier had bought the house to cherish her memory? The person she used to be while living in a house she now couldn’t even remember?