One Forgotten Night Read online

  Most galling of all were Julien’s visits. Mike could just about stand to see Nina and Julien Duchesne together in a public place, a street or a restaurant. But the sight of Julien trotting eagerly up Nina’s steps made Mike’s hackles rise. Something about the guy bugged Mike: Julien was too attentive, too pushy. Mike kept telling himself that there was more to it than simple jealousy, although the thought of Julien and Nina together in her apartment, behind drawn blinds, was almost more than he could stand. His only consolation was the fact that Julien never spent the night at Nina’s; he never stayed later than eleven o’clock, and most evenings he left earlier than that. And when Mike tailed Julien and Nina, he saw no sign of physical intimacy. She never took Julien’s hand or slipped her arm around his waist. Julien’s attitude toward her appeared unfailingly courtly and affectionate, but her body language showed stiffness and constraint. Mike took some comfort from that.

  He still couldn’t explain exactly why he was watching Nina. Sometimes he thought he had simply lost it over a woman once again. At other times his police instincts kicked in, telling him that something was going on. There were just too many things that didn’t fit—little things, but they added up to enough to make Mike uneasy. Why wasn’t Julien’s number listed on the Important Numbers page of Nina’s address book, if they were engaged? Why didn’t she have any pictures of him in her purse or apartment? And even if Nina had wanted to keep her relationship with Julien a secret from their co-workers at Z and D, why didn’t Danielle or any of her other friends outside work know about it?

  Mike knew that he didn’t have much of a reputation left, but he was willing to stake what was left of it on one thing: Nina Dennison had never agreed to marry Julien Duchesne. But he had no proof, nothing that he could take to Hecht or Irons, or even to Nina. They would say that he was accusing Duchesne out of jealousy—and maybe they’d be right.

  Hell, maybe Duchesne was just a lovesick idiot who had gotten nowhere with Nina before her accident and now was using her amnesia to try to worm his way into her affections—a slimeball stunt, but Mike didn’t know what he could do about it. There was another possibility, too, one that he shied away from thinking about. Nina could be running some deep game of her own, playing both him and Duchesne for suckers. Each time that thought occurred to him, he’d remember the way Nina had surrendered herself so trustingly to him, and he’d be ashamed of his suspicions, knowing that Nina was innocent. And then he’d be assailed by insidious memories: You were sure about Karen, too.

  Mike didn’t trust his feelings, and he didn’t trust his instincts. Still, he hung on through a long week and most of the weekend. A hundred times he’d thought of calling Nina, but each time he was stopped by the memory of her stricken expression when Julien had burst into her apartment. If she’d only come to him then, if she’d spoken to him or made some gesture, Mike might have been able to believe that he meant something to her. But Julien had practically ordered him out of the apartment, and Nina had let him go. And now pride kept him from reaching out to her. Once before, a woman had cost him his self-respect and made a fool of him. He couldn’t take a chance on that happening again, even though every glimpse and thought of Nina filled him with a longing unlike anything he’d ever known. You’ve gotten through worse things, he told himself. You’ll ride this out. But in his heart he doubted if he’d ever stop wanting her. And wanting to believe in her.

  * * *

  The week seemed years long to Nina.

  Work wasn’t bad at all. She didn’t have much trouble picking up the strings of her job at Z and D. Everyone from Armand Zakroff to Debbie was more than helpful, filling her in on the details of office routine and answering her questions. To her relief, she’d found that her professional knowledge was intact. She’d been afraid that her amnesia would impair her ability to do her job, but after a week at Z and D she felt confident that she wasn’t going to be a liability to the firm. The only real surprise was learning that she and Julien were scheduled to go on another buying trip to Colombia the following Monday afternoon. Plans for the trip had been made weeks ago.

  “You don’t have to go, you know,” Armand told her on Friday afternoon. “It’s so soon after your injury. Perhaps you’d rather pass up this trip.”

  “But it’s a major gem auction,” Nina objected. “If I don’t go, we won’t have another chance to pick up good-quality uncut emeralds for months.”

  “Julien can handle it alone.”

  “Come on, Armand, I’m a much better spotter than Julien, and you know it.” Nina had discovered that she did indeed have “the eye,” as Armand called it. She read gems easily, seeing their weaknesses and strengths; to her, each stone was as distinctive and individual as an old friend. “Julien will spend more and come back with less,” she continued. “Don’t worry, I’m up to making the trip. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”

  Nina was telling the truth; she was excited about the trip. Using her skill exhilarated and empowered her. It felt good to have something in her life that wasn’t confused, uncertain or mysterious. And she was eager to repay the trust and confidence that Armand had shown by doing an outstanding job for him at the auction.

  “And being with Julien—?” Armand asked delicately.

  “It will be fine,” Nina assured him. Privately, however, she wasn’t quite so sure.

  She would have been happier to have a break from Julien’s company. He seemed to have been constantly at her side, all week long. At work he kept popping into her office unannounced until she suggested, only half-jokingly, that he should start making appointments with Debbie if he wanted to see her. He cajoled her into having lunch with him every day; three times he surprised her with restaurant reservations for dinner.

  “It’s too much,” she told him when he brought her home after dinner Saturday night. “I feel like you’re crowding me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s foolish of me, but after what has happened, I can’t help worrying about you. I want to take care of you, to be there for you if you need me.”

  “That’s sweet, but—”

  “There’s more, you know.” He touched her face, lightly. She stiffened and turned her head; Julien dropped his hand and sighed. “I’ve lost so much,” he said in a low voice. “It hurts me to be a stranger to you. It’s hard to be like this, when what I want is to make love with you, to have things be the way they were....”

  Nina tried to imagine herself with Julien. Undoubtedly he was attractive, with his clear gray eyes, his perfect features, his long lean body. Yet she felt no desire for him, and no true affection. Only pity, and a sense of obligation that was growing increasingly burdensome.

  “Julien,” she said as gently as she could, “perhaps that will never happen.”

  “Don’t say that!” He turned her face to his and kissed her. Nina didn’t resist, but she didn’t respond. The kiss was expert and assured, but his lips felt alien on hers; the pressure of his body against hers aroused nothing but a feeling of distaste. Finally he let her go and looked at her, breathing hard.

  “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?” His voice held anger, and something else, as well—regret, Nina thought.

  All at once she was sure. “Yes, I have. Julien, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we’ll ever regain the feelings we must have shared before I was shot. I can’t be engaged to you now. You’ll have to consider our relationship over.”

  His face was pale except for the two spots of color that burned on his cheekbones. “I can’t do that!” he burst out.

  “Julien, it’s over. I’ve tried to be as fair to you as I can be, but there’s just nothing there. I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t pretend to feel something that I don’t feel. And now I think you’d better go.”

  He took a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “There isn’t any more to talk about. I’m terribly sorry, Julien, truly I am. But if you do care about me, you’ll see that I need to take care
of myself now.”

  “This is about that cop, isn’t it?”

  “No, it isn’t.” Nina marveled at how level and unemotional her voice sounded. Not a trace of pain or hurt pride. She wasn’t about to reveal to Julien that she hadn’t heard from Mike in the week since they’d slept together. “It’s about you and me. I’m not in love with you. I’m not going to be in love with you. Please accept that.”

  “I see.” He crossed to the door with quick steps. “I suppose the appropriate sentiment is, ‘We can still be friends,’” he said, making an effort to smile.

  “I hope we can be,” Nina said softly.

  “Of course. And please, Nina, don’t worry about us working together. There will be some awkward moments, I’m sure, but I’ll try not to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you, Julien. You really have been a gentleman about this.”

  “I try to be,” he said with a crooked smile. Then he bowed and left.

  Nina woke on Sunday feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. For a week she’d tried to be fair to Julien Duchesne; she’d wrestled with her sense of obligation. She’d even felt guilty for betraying him with Mike, although she knew that the guilt was totally unfounded—she’d had no way of knowing she was promised to Julien when she fell in love with Mike.

  Suddenly Nina realized just what she was thinking. Was she really in love with Mike Novalis? She knew that the answer was “yes.” But she had no idea what to do about it—

  The phone shrilled, cutting into her thoughts, and she ran for it. She was sure that it was Mike; she’d been thinking of him, she was finally free of Julien.... She picked up the phone and breathlessly said, “Hello.”

  “Nina, I have the most wonderful idea,” Marta said. “I’ll pick you up this afternoon and we’ll work out at the gym, and then we’ll have supper together, just us girls. And I have a surprise for you.”

  Nina nearly said no. She’d been looking forward to spending the day alone, catching up on her diary or maybe taking a long walk. But just because she had ended her engagement to Julien didn’t mean that her friendship with Marta was at an end. During the past week Nina had genuinely enjoyed Marta’s company. Perhaps Marta was a bit superficial and materialistic, but she was also cheerful, warm and supportive—easy to be around. Nina agreed to join her for a workout and supper.

  While they were on their way to Marta’s apartment to change their clothes after working out, Nina said, “I suppose you know what happened last night with Julien.”

  Marta shot her a sympathetic look. “Yes, he called me. He feels terrible, of course. And I’m sorry, too—I was so happy to think that my brother and my best friend were to be married. But don’t worry—” she patted Nina’s hand “—if you didn’t feel good about being engaged to Julien, then you were right to break it off. I understand, believe me. This won’t affect our friendship. And Julien will be all right, I’m sure of it.”

  Then Marta sprang her surprise. She had decided to accompany Julien and Nina to Colombia. “I thought it might ease the tension between you two if I came along,” she said, adding with a laugh, “Besides, I could use a few days in a hot climate to work on my tan.”

  Nina realized that her first trip with Julien would be made a lot easier by the presence of a third party. “That’s great!” she said. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

  Marta smiled at her. “Oh, we’ll have fun.”

  It was only after Nina stepped into Marta’s bathroom to take a quick shower that she began to regret accepting Marta’s invitation. Working out at the gym had been fun, but...she had spent so much time with the Duchesnes in the past week. She really needed a solitary evening before the trip to Colombia, which was bound to be hectic. Surely Marta wouldn’t mind if she canceled their plans for dinner.

  She stepped out of the bathroom and heard Marta talking in low tones. There was a hard, urgent note in her voice that Nina hadn’t noticed before.

  “Here or there, it doesn’t matter where,” Marta was saying. She was speaking into the telephone, her back to Nina. “I tell you it’s the only way to be sure. Yes, we’ll take care of it. In fact, Julien may already have done it.” She glanced up and saw Nina standing in the doorway. “Look, I have to go now, I have a guest,” she said. “Yes, I’ll let you know. Goodbye.”

  Marta hung up the phone and made a gesture of annoyance. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Some trouble with our stockbroker.”

  “I see,” said Nina, who didn’t. She had no desire to pry into the Duchesnes’ financial affairs. “Marta, I’m sorry, but I think I have to take a rain check on dinner. I just need an evening to myself.”

  Marta laughed. “I suppose we Duchesnes can be rather overwhelming,” she admitted. “You’ve had a long week, I know. No problem. I’ll run you home.”

  “Don’t bother, I’ll grab a cab. And, Marta, thanks for the rain check. I’ve got some things to do tonight. For one thing, I have to pack for Colombia.”

  “Don’t forget to take that nice green raincoat,” Marta advised. “The rainy season is about to start down there.”

  “I appreciate the tip. See you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon, at the airport,” Marta called out gaily.

  The first thing Nina did when she reached her apartment was check her answering machine. Nothing.

  She packed quickly and efficiently. One business suit, two blouses. One pair of slacks and two of her most colorful T-shirts. Jeans, sneakers and a light jacket—Julien had said that they might have to make a visit to one of the mines. She took her trench coat from the closet and draped it over the suitcase. There. Now she was ready for the trip. It had only taken her fifteen minutes to pack. The empty evening stretched out in front of her. What next?

  There was really only one thing she wanted to do. She had hoped for a week that Mike would call or come to see her. Oh, she had kept busy with Julien and his sister, but maybe, she now admitted to herself, she had let herself be persuaded to spend so much time with them because it was easier than facing up to the loneliness she felt without Mike.

  She couldn’t accept that things were over between them, that Mike could simply walk away from her without a backward glance. True, they had only spent one night together. She had taken him into her bed willingly and without conditions. He owed her nothing.

  Then the demons of doubt began whispering: What makes you think it was so special for him? Maybe it was just a fling, a casual release of tension. There’s no reason to believe that he cares for you.

  Yet even when she was shaken by doubts, Nina couldn’t help remembering the look in Mike’s eyes when she reached out and touched his face. It was the look of a man who’d seen a revelation he hadn’t dared to hope for. She remembered the tremor in his voice when he said, “Nina, I want you,” the way he called her name as he climaxed inside her—she remembered everything, and she ached with the need to experience it again. Most of all she remembered the way he had cradled her in his arms afterward, murmuring to her and touching her gently, as though he could scarcely believe that she was real.

  I’m not sure of much anymore, said Nina to herself. But, amnesia or not, I know one thing. That night meant something to Mike. Then why was he keeping his distance from her? Maybe if he knew that she had ended her engagement to Julien—? She dismissed that idea at once. She couldn’t go to him and say, “I’m free now,” as if she expected him to step in and fill the vacancy. She had too much dignity for that. And she thought better of Mike. If he had wanted to see her, he wouldn’t have held back out of some men’s-club notion that she was Julien’s property. He would have come to her and said whatever he had to say.

  That left only two alternatives. Maybe Mike still didn’t trust her. Perhaps he still suspected her of scamming him about the amnesia or being involved in something crooked. Or maybe something inside him was holding him back; maybe he couldn’t or wouldn’t let himself act on his feelings. Nina didn’t know which of those two possibilitie
s she feared more. Either way, the outlook wasn’t good.

  All week she had hoped for another of those mysterious psychic flashes, some image that would make her believe that she’d see Mike again. Yet she had seen nothing. The visions were beyond her power to summon. If the inexplicable phenomenon were linked to her injury, as she suspected, perhaps it was fading as time passed. Yet something troubled her slightly: If the visions were glimpses of the future rather than memories of the past, why had she seen two visions of Julien aboard his boat? Given the break-up of their engagement, she didn’t think she was likely to go sailing with him in the future. Perhaps not all of the visions were destined to come true. Or maybe the glimpses she’d had of Julien were connected with some future Z and D party aboard his boat. They weren’t really important right now. What was important was Mike Novalis and what she was going to do about him.

  She couldn’t be sure of Mike’s feelings for her—but she couldn’t deny the strength of hers for him. She felt empty and incomplete without him. Was this love? She didn’t know, but she had to have the chance to find out. Maybe she’d never thought that love could happen so swiftly, that life’s deepest passion could bloom in just a few short days. But a lot of surprising things had happened to her lately. If she’d learned one thing, it was to expect the unexpected.

  A voice in her mind was telling her to play it safe, to be careful. You can’t be sure of this, warned the voice. Wait until you get your memory back. She knew that that voice came from the cautious, timid part of Nina Dennison—the part that had decorated her tasteful but bland apartment and chosen her beige wardrobe and steered clear of emotional entanglements. But there was another part of her, born when she woke up in a hospital bed without a past. The injury that had cut her off from her memories had also cut her off from her fears and inhibitions. There was a part of her now that believed in facing things head-on and in taking chances, a part of her that wasn’t afraid to reach out for what she wanted. That part of her was still new and inexperienced. But it was growing stronger all the time.