IN BED WITH THE BOSS

He had changed. The dark eyes were no longer so restless. The glittering, predatory eyes of the shark had gone.

But a jolt to his memory might bring them back, surely? And the coldly ambitious Scott McCall might reemerge from the chrysalis of his coma.

“Ready?” she asked.

He drifted his hand over her hair and followed it with the butterfly touch of his lips on the back of her neck. “Maybe we should go back to bed for a while?” he murmured.

Vivian closed her eyes, tempted. If there was one thing that Scott had recovered quickly, it was his prowess as a lover. “But we’ve only just got up!” she objected.

“The doctor said that I was to rest as much as possible.”

“I think that your idea of rest and the doctor’s are not quite the same thing.” Vivian replied. Reluctantly, she pulled her neck away. “Shall we drive or shall we walk for a while? We can order a cab later to my place or call your driver.”

“Walk,” said Scott.

“You won’t get too tired?”

“Vivian,” he sighed. “I’m fine. You know, this isn’t going to work if you continue to nurse me all the while.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“I know you were, honey, but the time has come for you to let go. I’m in good shape physically and I can take care of myself. And the rest I can deal with myself. I have to.”

Vivian nodded, but she turned away on the pretext of getting a soft, woolen cardigan for the sunshiney spring day had a deceptive bite to the air. Let go. The two words chilled her right through and she was glad to snuggle into the cardigan.

Already he was cutting her out. That was without any nudges to his memory.

But this wasn’t about her and her feelings-it was all about Scott and what he needed to make him whole again.

And he would not be whole without memory, she realised sadly. She could not have a relationship with a man-especially not this man-on the superficial basis of a newly relaxed persona. That was only part of Scott.

True, he was softer and sweeter, but she couldn’t keep him that way just for her benefit.

He needed to be who he really was and she needed to know whether he still wanted her once he became that person again. And she him.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

The gardens had never looked more beautiful-the lawns were freshly cut and the scent of newly mown grass brought back a lifetime of different springs. For a moment she became a child who ran across sunlit lawns and thought how uncomplicated life would seem. But would it? Didn’t memory always play tricks? Didn’t it always look perfect when you looked back, your mind cleverly editing out all the bad bits? Wasn’t that nature’s way of making life seem bearable?

They finally arrived at her street, using a cab and got out. They crunched their way up the gravel path to the sound of birdsong and the gentle whisper of the breeze as it rustled its way through the new leaves.

“You’re very quiet,” observed Scott .

“Mmm.” She glanced up. Was it her imagination, or were the dark eyes already a little more distant? Would she, too, soon be nothing more than a memory to him? “Can you remember the way?”

It seemed that he could, his feet taking him automatically on the route. Paths of familiarity were worn deep into the mind, he realized, and some things you found you knew on an unconscious level.

He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, and watched as Vivian unlocked the door and they both stepped inside. He remembered a feeling of lightness, of no longer being encumbered by any burden, but there was a feeling of emptiness, too. Now why was that-why was that?

And it was then the floodgates opened and everything came back, in a dark tide which swamped him.

“Scott?” Vivian lifted her hand to his face and tentatively touched his cheek, seeing the sudden whitening of his face and the tension which had tightened his features. “Scott, what is it?”

He shook his head, locked in some strange kind of limbo as past and present whirled together in a terrifyingly vivid kaleidoscope.

She didn’t know how long they stood there for, only that when Scott eventually nodded, as though something had been completed, he met her eyes and she knew without having to ask the question that his memory had returned. It was as if someone had flicked a switch.

“You remember?” she whispered.

“Oh, yes, I remember. Everything…. And I remember how and why we broke up too.” he hissed. “Fuck!”

“Scott-”

He shook his head. He couldn’t take her sympathy or her understanding. Not right now. “I’m fine.”

It was as though a shutter had come down, effectively keeping her out. She stared at him. “Scott,” she whispered.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to be said,” he said flatly.

She waited for a moment, her eye drawn to the table in the middle of the room but not really seeing it. “What do you want to do now?” she asked quietly.

He gave a smile, but some of the softness had gone. “I’d like to go back home…. To my mom’s place… I mean I can’t just leave without talking to her.” he said. “And I want to make love to you.”

She understood that. The need to obliterate pain through the sweet oblivion of the senses. But although her body responded instantly, her heart felt wary. There was something different about him-it was as though someone had coated him with a hard, protective veneer. All vulnerability had fled and been replaced by the passionate predator who felt a million miles away.

Not a word was spoken on the journey home. Scott seemed completely preoccupied with his thoughts and, on a rational level, Vivian didn’t blame him. If his memory had suddenly come back and he was sifting and filing information in his head, then what right had she to chatter on about inconsequential things? His face was closed and forbidding enough to stop her trying to ask him anything really important and she tried to tell herself that he would elaborate when he was ready.

But her throat was dry with dread and longing and when they arrived back at his mother’s house and he wordlessly took her straight upstairs, where he proceeded to take her clothes off so slowly and so teasingly that she came when he first touched her. And couldn’t miss the fleeting look of dark triumph in his eyes as he groaningly entered her while she was still pulsing.

He made love to her as if he were being judged on it-surpassing even his usual skill and finesse and Vivian lost count of the times she shudderingly cried his name out loud. It was the most mind-blowing experience of her life, but yet it left her feeling that something was missing.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

And when it was over, they lay together, coupled like sweat-sheened spoons, their frantic hearts racing.

That was…” Vivian swallowed.” That was something else.” She thought of how long he had just spent making love to her.” But, darling, you mustn’t overtire-”

“No, Vivian.” He rolled over, so that he was lying on top of her once more, and his expression was hard, almost grim. “Your nursing duties are completed, and I mean that. I give you leave of absence.”

Fear rose in her throat. “What’s happened, Scott? Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way is that?” he asked.

How could she possibly say that his expression was no longer soft and giving? Not when this cool, sardonic flicker of interest looked far more like the man she was used to. He was blocking her and it seemed to be deliberate.

“How much have you remembered?” she asked slowly.

“Everything.” The one, stark word spoke volumes.

She sat up in bed, her heart sinking, knowing that she could not go back to the way things had been. It was impossible. And no matter how painful it was going to be, she could not accept a relationship on Scott’s terms. It was not so much as second-best-it was probably as much as he could offer. But it was not enough. Not for her. She would live in fear of it ending, afraid to give as much as she wanted to for fear of frightening him away. And no relationship could survive on fear.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“And say what? That I recall exactly why I was in that accident? That I remember our break up?”

“But I didn’t mean to cause you any pain. I did what I thought was right.”

He carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I know everything. How we met. How we ended up together and how we ended.”

“And us? What happens to us now?” she ventured.

“Us?”