Claiming His Secret Heir

“I’m sure that would help.” Her mouth was dry. Had it been a mistake to reveal all of this to him and not to the police first? She’d been so romanced by those damned honeymoon photos that she’d hoped—maybe—she could have more trust in Damon than her father.

“Someone laid a very deliberate false trail, Caroline.” He spoke slowly, articulating the idea simply and clearly, as if she was as addle-brained as she’d pretended to be when she showed up. “Do you understand what I’m suggesting? Someone spent a great deal of money making it look like you hadn’t been abducted.”

She understood what he was saying—and whom he was accusing—but she couldn’t believe it. “My father would never knowingly subject me to harm, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“How can you be so sure? You must have your doubts if you left without telling him where you were going. You came here, to me, even knowing that he wouldn’t approve.” Damon inched closer, just enough to lay a hand on her shoulder. “So if you’re not still playing a game with me, you must distrust him.”

She traced the pattern in the gray granite countertop, thinking. She needed to tell him about Lucas. The time had come. “After I was kidnapped and drugged, I truly suffered a bout of amnesia. I was ill. I didn’t know who to trust.”

“You went to your father.”

“At the time, I didn’t remember you.”

Damon studied her, no doubt weighing her words.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, his hand falling away from her.

She missed his touch, even when they were at odds. Even when she didn’t know if she could truly confide in him.

“My father never mentioned you. He didn’t say one word about me being married, even though I was confused about—I couldn’t remember anything.” She had told her father about the pregnancy, but he claimed not to know anything about who she’d been dating before the kidnapping, suggesting the father of her child was a one-night stand. She had been devastated when she learned the truth. That she’d had a husband who would be hurt to have missed out on their child’s birth. “But then my sister came to see me. He couldn’t keep me isolated forever. She gave me the marriage certificate. I guess my father had a copy in his office.”

It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why. She’d had a lot of other worries in her head and in her heart at that time while she struggled to remember her past.

“Victoria told you the truth.” Damon nodded, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “I’ve never met her, since your dad forbade anyone in your family to attend our wedding.” His jaw flexed. “But of course, you remember that now, don’t you?”

“Yes. Victoria’s revelation was a big help in recovering more of my memories.” Caroline paced around the kitchen island, not trusting herself around Damon when she felt this magnetic draw to him. “And the therapist who was helping me with the amnesia suggested I’d been a victim of gaslighting. She didn’t openly accuse my father. I think she believed that maybe my captors had been the ones to feed me lies and withhold information.” Caroline hadn’t wanted to believe she could be susceptible to suggestion and misinformation, but once Victoria revealed the truth, Caroline had to face the reality that her father no longer had her best interests at heart. “And by then, I knew that it was my father who didn’t want me to remember you.”

“If any other man hurt you this way…” Damon didn’t finish the thought.

He didn’t need to.

“Damon.” A fresh dose of anxiety poured through her. “I came here because I had suspicions about my father, but I also didn’t trust my memories where you’re concerned. That’s why I pretended to have amnesia to a greater degree than I really do. To see what you’d say.”

She tried to gauge his reaction, studying his expression. The kitchen was brightly lit now that the sun had risen well above the horizon. Birds chirped in a nest outside the window near the sink, providing an incongruously cheery soundtrack to the most difficult conversation of her life.

“You should have gone straight to the police.” His jaw was set, his shoulders tense. “Do you have any reason to believe those kidnappers won’t come after you again? My God, Caroline. You took an incredible risk if you believed me capable of such a thing.” He speared a hand through his dark hair, ruffling the long layers shaggy for want of a cut. “Sure, now you know it wasn’t me. But you could still be in danger from whoever took you.”