Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 18

That was Dr. No?

Jane scrutinized the man as he rose and crossed toward her. He appeared to be in his thirties with brown hair cut closely to his head. His black pants hung loosely on his thin body, and the blue material of his shirt shimmered in the lamplight. But it wasn't his age or his size or his clothing that surprised her. It was his ears. Or rather the piercings in his ears.

No, piercings didn't quite do them justice-he had boles in his ears as if the regular earring holes had been stretched to ten times their original size. Then the expanded holes were kept open by metal rims.

That almost overshadowed the fact that he didn't look remotely Asian.

Suddenly Jane realized she had been staring at him far too long. He wagged his eyebrows and gave her another lascivious smile, apparently unbothered by her rudeness. Stepping forward, he extended his hand.

"Yeah, that's me, Dr. No."

Jane accepted his hand and tried to keep her gaze from wandering back to his ears.

"Thank you for coming," she managed, and received yet another lecherous grin.

"I couldn't resist. When Sebastian explained the situation, I had to see it for myself."

Jane frowned. Those were hardly the words of a concerned family physician. She cast a worried look to Sebastian.

Sebastian stepped forward and clapped the doctor on the back. "Dav — Dr. No is always interested in new cases."

"Sebastian," Rhys said slowly, and for the first time, Jane noticed that he was in the doorway, staring at the doctor with an equally stunned expression. "Can I talk to you in the living room?"

Rhys nodded at the doctor, his amber gaze going once more to his ears before he looked to his brother, who had joined him at the door.

"We will just be a minute," Rhys said as he nudged Sebastian toward the door. He paused and looked back to her. "Just stay right here."

Jane nodded and then, through the doctor's ear holes, watched the two brothers disappear into the living room.

"So Rhys has gone nuttier than a Nutter Butter, eh?"

Jane blinked at the man. Was that his technical take on Rhys's ailment? "He's a little confused. And I think he does need professional help." Even though she knew it was a little rude, she did emphasize the word "professional."

"Well, I'll tell you, from what I've heard from Sebastian, he's needed help for a long time. He's one uptight dude. Actually he seems happier now than I've ever seen him-not that I know him that well. But I'd say amnesia seems to be workin' for him."

She knew she was gaping at this man, but she couldn't believe her ears. This was the much sought-after physician Sebastian swore by.

"Or maybe it's you that has him all mellowed out." Dr. No nudged her, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly.

She stepped back from him. Well, it was certainly no mystery now why this guy would just diagnose Rhys over the phone. That had to be how he did most of his exams.

But she gave him the benefit of the doubt and asked, "Don't you think he needs to go to the hospital? Or see a specialist? A psychiatrist maybe?"

"Ahh, psychiatrists. I went to one of those once. Rhys would do better with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a prostitute. The booze will get him talkin', and a prostitute will listen to his problems for a whole lot cheaper. Plus he'd get a blow job while she listened. That's the only way to get psychiatric help." He nodded as if he'd actually offered her a good solution.

She stared at him for a moment, then edged toward the door. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"

He nodded and flopped down into one of the chairs, crossing his blue suede sneakers on the coffee table.

She glanced at him once more, then reached for the doorknob. But it slipped out of her grasp.

Both brothers came back into the room. Rhys looked annoyed. And Sebastian looked tense.

"Jane. Can I talk to you?" It might have been posed as a question, but the look in Rhys's eyes stated there was no room for debate. Not that she wanted to, she was more than happy to leave Dr. No's leering looks and offensive comments.

Once they were in the living room and the door was shut, Rhys turned to her. "I don't want you being examined by that man."

"Me neither," she agreed heartily, even though she knew Dr. No wasn't here to see her.

"Good. Now-"

The door swung open, and Sebastian stuck his head in the room. "Dr. No says he's done with Jane. But he wants to see you, Rhys."

Rhys cast a concerned look to Jane. "He did an examination already?"

Jane immediately shook her head. "No. He just asked me a few questions and offered his"-she gave Sebastian a disapproving glare-"professional advice."

Rhys looked relieved. Sebastian looked unimpressed.

"Now he wants to talk with you," Sebastian told Rhys again.

Rhys gave his brother a puzzled look. "Why?"

"He has some advice for you, too."

Rhys hesitated, then walked toward the library. He paused in the doorway. "You are all right, aren't you?"

Jane nodded. "Fine."

Sebastian started to follow Rhys back into the living room, but Jane called out to him. "Wait, Sebastian, may I talk to you?"

She could have sworn he rolled his eyes, but then he smiled so broadly she wasn't sure she'd seen his expression correctly. "Sure."

Rhys disappeared into the library, and Sebastian stepped into the living room.

"That is your renowned doctor?" Jane questioned in an emphatic whisper.

"Don't let his looks throw you. He's the best." The best DJ that the nightclub had ever hired. Also the newest, which he hoped would prevent Rhys from recognizing him and trying to get the DJ to "ready a carriage." Or whatever other nonsense Rhys came up with.

"He seems to think Rhys's amnesia is a positive thing."

"Well, that's good, right? At least he doesn't think it's a bad thing."

Jane shook her head, shock clear in her green eyes. "Sebastian, this is crazy. How can amnesia be anything but bad? Your brother needs help, and no one seems to care."

Sebastian gritted his teeth. No one cared! If he didn't care, he wouldn't be inventing doctors. He wouldn't be trying his damnedest to keep Jane with him. He wouldn't be trying to Protect him. "I do care, Jane. But I have to admit, I like Rhys better now. He isn't hurting. He isn't mourning our sister Elizabeth, who died a long time ago-but, he can't seem to let her go. And he isn't beating himself up over our brother Christian, with whom he hasn't spoken in years."

Sebastian snapped his mouth shut. He hadn't intended to tell Jane about their other siblings. When the time came for her to hear the truth about them, he thought that was Rhys's responsibility.

But maybe she did need to know. She was in deep-she needed to understand the Rhys who would very likely return when his memory did.

Jane stared at him, her eyes growing damp like emeralds glistening at the bottom of a lake. "I–I didn't know."

"How could you? Rhys doesn't even know now."

"Right. And you think that is why he has this amnesia?"

Sebastian nodded. "In part, yes."

"Oh, Rhys." Her voice was filled with so much sympathy, so much despair.

Sebastian stared at her, at the tears in her eyes and the pain clear in her features, and for the first time wondered if he'd taken this all too far.

"Please excuse me," she murmured and headed down the hallway, without waiting for his response.

"Sure," he answered anyway. Until this moment, he'd only thought to give Rhys what he wanted-Jane. Not once had he considered that he was toying with her life, too. Playing with her future, her emotions.

She loved Rhys. Her love scented the air and swirled through the room in her wake.

God, he hoped he was doing the right thing for both of them.

Jane fled to her room. Her pain for Rhys and the tears she was trying to hold at bay strangled her. How had she gotten into this mess?

But now she finally understood what Rhys was repressing. And she also understood that cold man she'd met back at the bar. The one who had been so distant. So cool. He'd been a man who had been hurting. The smiling, kind, gentle Rhys that she knew now was free of that pain. Able to laugh.

Suddenly, she felt so selfish. Here, she'd been worrying about what would happen to her when he got his memory back. She hadn't fully thought out what might happen to him.

But she didn't believe what Sebastian was suggesting, that Rhys could continue to go on living in a fantasy world. Even though his delusions allowed him to live free of old heartaches, they were still delusions. Eventually he would remember.

Or would he? Her own father was a prime example of someone who had lived in his fantasy world forever. But she didn't want that for Rhys.

She knew firsthand that a fantasy world was very limiting. Her father had worked hard to keep out anything that might interfere with his beliefs. He'd had to cut himself off. And in doing so, he'd cut Jane off, too.

But even though she had been distanced from her father, she'd still had to live in his parameters. She'd had to go along with her father's delusions, because she didn't know what else to do. A need to protect him and herself had made her separate them from the outside world. And in the end, all she'd managed to do was lose everything that was real and normal.

She didn't want that for Rhys. She wanted him to have a real life.

He needed to confront his old wounds. Wouldn't that be the only way for them to heal?

Yes, it was the only way. She truly believed that. But just like Sebastian she ached for Rhys. To remember was going to be like losing everyone again. Elizabeth. Christian.

This was terrible. She just didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to help him.

She sank into one of the wing-back chairs, dropped her head into her hands.

"Jane?"

Her head shot up, and she blinked through her tears to see Rhys standing in the center of the room.

He watched her, his amber eyes dark with worry.

"Rhys," she said, her voice sounding raw. "I'm so sorry. So sorry."

He crossed to her and knelt down. He caught her hands, stroking his thumbs back and forth across the backs of them.

"You have no reason to be sorry," he assured her.

She stared at him. She had so many reasons to be sorry for both of them. For all the pain, for the loss, for allowing a relationship between them, when she knew it was wrong.

"Darling, if there are no children, then there are no children. I want you more than I could even consider wanting an heir."

Jane blinked at him. "What?"

"If you are barren, it is what was meant to be."

She stared at him, his words permeating the anguish that had surrounded her. Barren? Heir?

She gritted her teeth, fighting back the irritation that welled in her chest. Of course, this was another of Sebastian's little stories. Another of his helpful lies, designed to protect his brother.

She couldn't even think what to say. She couldn't sort out all the emotions and thoughts battling inside her. She needed time to think. Time to decide what was best for both Rhys and herself.

"Rhys." She pulled a hand from his hold and touched it to his cheek. "I really just want to rest."

He nodded, and before she realized what he was doing, he lifted her up in his arms.

"Rhys! I can walk."

He smiled down at her. "I know you can walk, but you've had a grueling day. I want to pamper you."

He strode to the bed, setting her down in the center. His fingers moved to the button of her jeans.

She caught his fingers. "Rhys," she said slowly, uncertain how to say no to him now. After all the times she had adamantly said yes.

"Love, I'm not some rutting beast," he said with a slight smile, although she could see the hurt in his eyes. "I just wanted to make you more comfortable."

She suddenly felt guilty. She had no reason to mistrust him. He'd never pressured her. She was the one who was taking from him.

Deftly, he removed her jeans, then plumped the pillows and tucked the covers over her.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked quietly, as he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

She shook her head. "I think I need to be alone." Having him so close clouded her judgment, and she needed to think about what was right for him.

He nodded, resignation in the gesture as if he'd known her answer already.

He kissed her forehead, and her eyes grew teary at the sweetness of his touch. How could she lose this? How could she walk away from something she'd craved her whole life?

He turned off the lamp and started to leave the room. In the doorway, he stopped, his tall form silhouetted against the hall light. "Janie, everything will be fine."

She closed her eyes. She hoped so.

Jane had no idea how she could have fallen asleep, not with all the worries she had on her mind. But she had.

She opened her eyes and looked at the alarm clock. The numbers glowed eleven thirty-one A.M.

She let her eyes drift closed, exhaustion still enveloping her. Given her new sleep schedule, this was far too early to get up anyway.

She started to doze off again, when something prickled over her skin. Her eyes snapped open, and she lay perfectly still.

The prickling intensified until she was covered with goose bumps, and her hair felt as if it were standing on end.

She closed her eyes. Not again.

But just as she told herself that she had to be imagining the sensation, a heavy weight pinned her down to the bed.

She willed herself to stay calm. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. She was still sound asleep, and whatever this was couldn't hurt her.

Her heart thundered in her ears, but she forced herself not to struggle, even though everything within her said to fight.

Vaguely, over the thrum of blood rushing through her veins, she heard the creak of the bed as the «thing» pressed, her harder into the mattress. Again, her instincts told her to fight, to flee.

But she lay perfectly still, trying to overcome her terror to comprehend what held her. She realized after several moments the «thing» did seem to have a form. It was a body, she could sense that. Yet, when she moved her hand to touch it, she encountered nothing.

Suddenly, the form began touching her. She shivered as cold fingers stroked over her legs, then her arms.

She began to struggle then, unable to control the fear consuming her.

But the shadow fingers caught her wrists and pinned them to her sides, and for the first time she heard breathing, low and steady.

She tried to shift her head away from the sound, but it moved closer.

Then she heard it. A voice low and guttural-unnatural in its deepness. Whispering against her ear.

"Hello, Janie."