The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage Read Online Free Page A

inside. He had to admit there were some things he hoped she wouldn’t remember about their last heated argument. He had lostcontrol in a way that deeply ashamed him. Had his actions during that ugly scene driven her into her lover’s arms? Or had she been planning to run away with Marshall in any case?
    What if she never remembered him?
    No. He was not going to think about that possibility, in spite of what the doctors and the psychologist had said. He lived for the day when she would look at him with full recognition in her grey-blue eyes. For the day she would smile at him and offer her soft, full bee-stung mouth for him to kiss; she would give him her body to pleasure and be pleasured until every last memory of her dead lover was obliterated.
    And then and only then he would have his revenge.
    â€˜My car is waiting outside,’ Javier said. ‘I have a private jet waiting for our departure.’
    She gave him one of her bewildered looks. ‘You…you have a private jet?’
    â€˜Sí,’ he answered. ‘You are married to a very rich man, mi amor , or have you forgotten that too?’
    She bit into her bottom lip, her gaze falling away from his as she continued walking by his side. ‘Dr Carey, the psychologist, told me some husbands find it very hard to accept their wives don’t remember them,’ she said. ‘I know this must be hard for you. I know you must feel angry and upset.’
    You have no idea how angry , Javier thought as he led the way out of the hospital. Anger was like a turbulent flood inside him. His blood was surging with it, bulging in his veins like red-hot lava until he felt he was going to explode with it. How could he conceal the hatred he felt for her at her betrayal? The papers were full of it again this morning, as they had been for the past week.Every headline seemed to say the same: the speculation about her affair with Marshall, their clandestine dirty little affair that had ended in tragedy. Javier knew he would have to work harder at controlling his emotions. This was not the time to avenge the past. What was the point? Emelia apparently had no recollection of it.
    He cupped her elbow with the palm of his hand as he guided her into the waiting limousine. ‘I am sorry, querida ,’ he said. ‘I am still getting over the shock of almost losing you. Forgive me. I will try and be more considerate.’
    She looked at him once he took the seat beside her, her eyes like luminescent pools. ‘It’s OK,’ she said in a whisper-soft voice. ‘I’m finding it hard too. I feel like I am living in someone else’s body, living someone else’s life.’
    â€˜It is your life,’ Javier said. ‘It is the one you chose for yourself.’
    She frowned as she absently stroked her fingers over the butter-soft leather of the seat between them. ‘How long did we date before we got married?’
    â€˜Not long.’
    She turned her head to look at him. ‘How long?’
    â€˜Six weeks.’
    Her eyes went wide, like pond water spreading after a flood. ‘I can’t believe I got married so quickly,’ she said, as if talking to herself. She shook her head but then winced as if it had hurt her. She lowered her gaze and tucked a strand of her honey-blonde hair back behind her ear, her tongue sweeping out over her lips, the action igniting a fire in his groin despite all of his attempts to ignore her physical allure. Sitting this close, he could smell the sweet vanilla fragrance of her skin. If heclosed his eyes he could picture her writhing beneath him as he pounded into her, his body rocking with hers until they both exploded. He clenched his jaw and turned to look out of the window at the rain lashing down outside.
    â€˜Was it a white wedding?’ she asked after a little silence.
    Javier turned and looked at her. ‘Yes, it was. There were over four hundred people there. It was called the