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The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

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The doctor cleared his throat. ‘We were forced to cut her hair when we were dealing with her injuries.’

‘Dios mío, she’s skin and bone.’ Caught broadside by emotions that he hadn’t expected, Raul directed the full force of his anger towards the doctor. ‘Don’t you feed your patients in this hospital?’

Clearly unaccustomed to such full-on confrontation, the doctor fiddled nervously with the charts he was clutching. ‘Faith suffered a head injury,’ he stuttered. ‘She was unconscious for a while. Her rapid recovery is nothing short of remarkable. We saved her life.’

‘Good,’ Raul said coldly, his eyes focusing on the doctor’s badge as he committed the name to memory. ‘Because if you hadn’t then your days of practising medicine would now be over. How was she injured?’

The nurse stepped forward swiftly, obviously hoping to smooth the situation. ‘According to witnesses, she walked in front of a car just outside the airport terminal. It was as if she wasn’t looking.’

Raul strode over to the bed, his mouth tightening as she turned her back on him and pulled the covers even higher.

That simple gesture said more than words ever could and suddenly he was gripped by the unfamiliar tentacles of guilt. He thrust them aside, reminding himself that he had no reason to feel guilty.

She’d done this to them.

He’d been up front and honest from the start. She was the one who’d chosen to play elaborate female games. And it was time she acknowledged that. ‘Look at me!’

The lump in the bed didn’t move and he gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Running from a problem solves nothing. Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?’

The anger had burned inside him day and night for the past two weeks and he’d promised himself that when he finally caught up with her he would make sure that she was left in no doubt about his feelings.

For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to respond and then the figure in the bed moved slowly and she sat up.

The words died in his throat.

There was something about her appalling fragility that prevented him from venting the full force of his wrath. She looked as vulnerable and shaky as one of his newborn foals and Raul felt something twist inside him.

He’d always thought of her as strong and vibrant, but there was no sign of the energy and enthusiasm that he’d come to expect from her.

The shapeless hospital nightdress hung from her narrow shoulders, her eyes were shaded by dark bruises and there were scratches on her shoulders and arms.

The usually irrepressible sparkle in her green eyes had been extinguished and she stared straight forward, refusing to meet his gaze.

She looked like a woman who was broken.

Apart from that one, anguished word—‘No!’—she hadn’t spoken or glanced in his direction since he’d entered the room. It was as if she was pretending that he wasn’t there.

Reflecting on the damage she’d caused, Raul felt another monumental surge in his tension levels.

Was she sorry? Did she regret what she’d done to their relationship?

He stared in brooding silence at her frozen profile. If it had been any other woman he would have walked away and left her to deal with the situation she’d created. But Faith wasn’t any other woman and something kept his feet nailed firmly to the ground.

Pandora, Eve, Faith …

Exasperated with his own display of weakness, Raul turned back to the doctor who was now eyeing him with trepidation. ‘What are her injuries?’

‘Well—er—’ The doctor cleared his throat. ‘Despite the seriousness of the accident, she has made a remarkable recovery. She experiences some headaches and a little dizziness from time to time, but the wound on her head is healing well. There is, however, the issue of her memory.’ Accustomed to relatives who were suitably submissive and respectful, he was obviously struggling to cope with Raul’s direct, forceful approach. ‘We have found it difficult to assess the extent of her amnesia.’

‘She doesn’t have amnesia.’ It had taken only one glance for Raul to know that she remembered absolutely everything that had happened between them.

The doctor looked taken aback. ‘But—she doesn’t appear to remember you.’

Raul’s mouth tightened into a grim line and he transferred his gaze to the frozen profile of the woman on the bed. ‘Oh, she remembers,’ he said softly. ‘If her memory was impaired, she wouldn’t be ignoring me. She’d be firing sparks and demanding to know why I took so long to get here. The reason she is refusing to look me in the eye is because her memory is perfectly intact and she’s suffering from a severe attack of guilty conscience, isn’t that right, cariño?’

Her head turned at that, her gaze locked with his and although she didn’t say a single word her eyes sent him straight to hell.

The past swirled and bubbled between them like a dangerous beast just waiting to swallow them whole.



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