The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage by Melanie Milburne

made her spine loosen even further. His palm cupped her cheek, holding it gently, each long finger imprinted on her flesh. ‘You were shy to begin with, cariño ,’ he said. ‘But then perhaps you were shy with your other lovers, sí ?’
    Emelia frowned. ‘But I have only had one lover. I must have told you about it, surely? It happened when I was singing in a band in Melbourne. I was too young and didn’t realise what I was getting into with someone so much older and experienced. I should have known better, but I was in that rebellious stage a lot of teenagers go through.’
    His hand moved from her cheek to rest on her shoulder, his eyes still holding hers like a searchlight. ‘You told me some things about it, yes,’ he said. ‘But then perhaps there are other things you didn’t tell me. Things you preferred to keep a secret from me even during our marriage.’
    Her frown deepened across her forehead. ‘Like what?’
    He gave her an inscrutable look and dropped his hand from her shoulder. ‘Who knows?’ he said. ‘You can’t remember, or so you say.’
    The ensuing silence seemed to ring with the suspicion of his statement.
    Emelia sat on the bed in case her legs gave way. ‘You think I’m pretending ?’ she asked in an incredulous choked whisper. ‘Is that what you think? That I’m making my memory loss up?’
    His eyes bored into hers, his mouth pulled tight until his lips were almost flattened. ‘You remember nothing of me and yet you grieve like a heartbroken widow over the loss of Marshall.’
    She pushed herself upright with her arms. ‘Have I not got the right to grieve the loss of a beloved friend?’
    His jaw tightened as he held her stare for stare. ‘I am your husband, Emelia,’ he bit out. ‘Your life is with me, not with a dead man.’
    She glared back at him furiously. ‘You can’t force me to stay with you. I might never remember you. What will you do then?’
    â€˜Oh, you will remember, Emelia,’ he said through clenched teeth, each bitten out word highlighting his accent. ‘Make no mistake. You will remember everything.’
    Emelia felt a rumble of fear deep and low in her belly. ‘I don’t know you. I don’t even know myself, or at least that’s what it feels like it,’ she said. ‘I don’t know who I’ve become over the past two years. Do you have any idea what it’s like for me to step back into the life that was supposedly mine when I don’t recognise a thing about it or me?’
    He let out a harsh breath. ‘Leave it. This is not the time to discuss it.’
    â€˜No I can’t leave it,’ she said. ‘You don’t seem to trust me. What sort of marriage did we have?’
    His eyes were fathomless black pools as they held hers. ‘I said I don’t wish to discuss this,’ he said. ‘You need to rest. You are pale and look as if a breath of wind would knock you down.’
    â€˜What would you care?’ she asked with a churlish look.
    â€˜I am not going to continue with this conversation,’ he said with an implacable set to his mouth. ‘I will leave you to rest. Dinner will be served at eight-thirty. I would suggest you stay close to the villa until you become more familiar with your surroundings. You could easily get lost.’
    Emelia sank back down on the mattress once the door had closed on his exit. She put a shaky hand up to her temple, wishing she could unlock the vault of memories that held the secrets of the past two years. What sort of wife was she that her husband didn’t seem to trust her? And why did he look at her as if he was torn between pulling her into his arms and showing her the door?
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    After changing into riding gear, Javier strode down to the stables and, politely declining the offer from his stable-hand, Pedro, quickly saddled his