Beneath The Lies Page 6
Damien summons the waiter for the menus. When I take my time looking at the menu, he prompts me, “Try the beef linguine. It’s delicious.”
“Um, no... I don’t eat beef. I’ll take the chicken ravioli.”
He frowns. “Why no beef?”
“It’s a religious thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
My lips quiver and I drink a sip of wine to compose myself. It pains me to clarify this question because we’ve had this discussion years ago and now he remembers nothing about it or me. However, I soldier on. “Well, I’m a Hindu and many of us don’t eat beef because the cow is considered sacred.”
He rubs his temple. “Yes, I recall something about a particular God. Shiva isn’t it? The cow or is it the bull that is his mode of transport?”
I can’t speak and I stare at him with my lips parted. Just when I thought that he doesn’t remember anything at all, he tells me this tidbit. It’s something I had explained to him years ago during this exact same discussion.
Gabe interjects. “Wow! You know your Indian mythology, Damien.”
He rubs his temple again. “I guess I must’ve read it somewhere at some time.”
A tiny flicker of joy flares inside my chest. First the wine and now this. Does some small part deep within his mind intrinsically recognize me?
I hope that being with me is triggering memories from his past. My eyes blur and I rip my gaze away from him blinking back the tears. This man holds my heart in his hands and he doesn’t even know it.
Damien
Aaliya watches me from under hooded lashes. Every time our eyes lock, she waits a second before her gaze shifts away from me. Gabriel’s friend is sassy and bold, and I like this spunk in a woman. I still can’t get over the way her eyes flashed fire at me when I told her off about my situation. My anger wasn’t pointed at her specifically but dealing first with Celia and the press and then with that threatening note has been distressing. The note indicates that whoever is after me is simply biding time before their next strike. Solving this mystery now takes priority over everything else. I have to find out who is trying to kill me and why.
When Aaliya entered the restaurant, my boiling rage over my situation had just about settled to a simmer. And when she asked me that question about the news article, I erroneously assumed that she was prying and I lashed out. But she was gracious enough to let the altercation go and has been nothing but warm and polite since then.
Gabe and Aaliya interact easily with one another. They seem to share a history, one I know nothing of or don’t remember of. I intend to ask him about it at the earliest opportunity. I need to know how interested Gabe is in her because she intrigues me and I haven’t been interested in a woman for a long time now.
Our dinner arrives and we dig into it.
Gabe and she launch into an exciting discussion on Hindu mythology. What is even more surprising is that I can contribute to it.
Aaliya laughs at something Gabe says. The sound is delicious and sexy. My body stirs to life, shocking me.
“Yeah, we Indians love our mythology,” she exclaims, turning to me. “Every few years we have a new television serial on the Ramayana or the Mahabharata and everyone is glued to it, even though most of us know the story and have watched the previously televised version as well. Yet, the serials are a super hit.”
A memory flashes through my mind of a bare-chested man holding a bow and arrow. So I ask her about it. “There’s a deity the Hindu’s believe in, he carries a bow and arrow, am I right?”
Her face lights up. “That is the God Rama. I’m impressed, Damien.”
I smile at her. I’m so thrilled I’ve remembered something I wasn’t even aware I knew. How do I know it? Was I reading on Indian mythology before my accident? Have I had this discussion with someone else earlier? It’s all a big blank. But being with Aaliya has opened my mind to things and, for the first time in days, a tiny spark of hope blooms inside me. Perhaps, this is a sign of my memory returning. I surely hope that is the case.
“So, what brings you to London?” My curiosity about this beautiful Indian girl suddenly knows no bounds.
She runs a hand through her flowing hair and her sweater drops down her right arm. I watch mesmerized at the creamy skin of her exposed shoulder. The light from the overhead chandelier glows on her and her skin gleams golden. Our eyes meet and she catches me looking at her.
“I uh…” she falters as I continue to stare at her. She raises her brow at me and I tilt my head to stare at her better. Her hand goes to lift the sweater up, but then she drops her hand, leaving her sweater exactly where it was, low on her arm.
Laughter dances in her eyes. Grinning, she shakes her head at me before speaking. “I have business here. I’m going to meet Dale Adcock. His paintings on totems are quite innovative and unique, not to mention quirky. I would love to introduce them in India.” She smiles. “Oh, and I’m also meeting Phil Vickery. His glass sculptures are fantastic. I want to commission a few pieces from him. I think some of my clients will love them.”
I lean back in my chair. “Your knowledge of these famous English artists is quite up to the point.”
Her eyes narrow marginally. “Why the tone of surprise?”
“I’m surprised and impressed.”
Aaliya raises her wine glass to her lips and takes a sip. Her tongue snakes out to lick an errant drop and I can’t stop staring at her mouth. I have to force my mind to focus on her next words.
“I’ve heard that you are a great designer yourself and that a couple of years ago you were listed as one of the top ten architects and interior designers of the world,” she says. She tilts her head to Gabe, “Gabriel has told me a lot about you.”
“Nice things, I hope.”
Gabriel raises his hands in defense. “I swear I told her the good stuff only.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I find that so hard to believe when you say it like that.”
Aaliya laughs. The husky sound once again punches me in the gut. It reminds me of sunshine and bright mornings. Shit! Where did that thought come from?
Before I can tell her anything else, my phone rings. I frown as I see Celia’s name flash on the screen. I silence the call but before I can put it down, it rings again. I silence it once more.
The phone rings a third time and Gabe and Aaliya both look at me and then exchange a look with each other.
“Do you want to get that?” Gabe asks, when my phone continues to buzz.
I press my lips and check the time before I finally pick up.
“Damien,” Celia breathes before I can say a word.
“What is it?” I snap.
“Can you please come and meet me?” she asks in a low voice.
My mind immediately goes on guard. “Absolutely not! I’m out for dinner and it’s late. Call me tomorrow and we will talk.”
“But I need you Damien. I need to talk to someone now and I have no one. I’m so lonely. So al…alone,” she slurs.
“Are you drunk?”
There is silence from her end.
“Celia, I don’t have time for this right now.”
I know I’m being rude but the last thing I need is to converse with her while she is inebriated.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Gabe and Aaliya trade another look. Celia’s voice drones in my ear. “What do you think will happen if I slash my wrists? I’ve heard there is a lot of blood.”
“What the hell?” I yell.
I turn to Gabe and Aaliya as I stand up. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
Mike follows me to the empty terrace, waiting just at the door.
“Celia, are you there?”
“I need the m...memories to stop Damien. His memories, the horror David put me through,” she says, her voice forlorn. “Maybe I need to end it, end myself to make it all go away. Goodbye D…Damien!”
The hair on my arm rises. “I’m coming, Celia. You hear me. It will take me fifteen minutes
. Promise me you won’t do anything until I get there.”
When there is only silence at her end, I yell. “Celia! Promise me that you will wait for me to come.”
“I promise,” she whispers, hanging up.
Fucking hell! I turn to Mike. “Call for the car. We need to go to Celia’s place now!”
I don’t wait for his response. I head back inside to the table and pick up my jacket. “I have to go,” I tell both Gabe and Aaliya. “Apologies, but I have to be someplace else.”
A wounded expression crosses Aaliya’s face, but I have no time to ponder on that. Just as I rush out of the restaurant, Gabe calls my name, hurrying towards me.
“What happened?” he asks me, worry lining his forehead.
“It’s Celia.” I sigh. “She’s drunk and needs me right now.”
The car arrives and Mike opens the door for me. Gabe holds my shoulder, halting me before I get in.
“Don’t go Damien. Whatever she’s saying to get you to her is all a lie. I know her. She’s…”
“Gabe. I know what I’m doing.” I shrug off his hold and enter the car.
I don’t have time to explain to Gabe that Celia is behaving suicidal; my only thought is to get to her. If my brother has indeed put her through God knows what terror, and I’m sure he must have because I know what David was capable of, then I have to go to her. I have to stop her before she does something drastic. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to her and I did not prevent it.
Aaliya
“He went to her, didn’t he?” Fear claws through me like a wild animal in pain when Gabriel returns alone without Damien.
I hold my face in my hands. “This is why I want to tell him. This is why he needs to know about me.” I lift my head and my gaze narrows at Gabe sitting beside me. “I’m done listening to you. If I had told him already who I am, he would never have gone to her. This is all on you!”
Gabe bangs his fist on the table, rattling the glasses. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop him from going to her, no matter what you told him. You see, he has forgotten you, but he knows her. Several years ago, he was in love with her. So, while he may not have the same emotion for her now, whatever he feels for her is more than what he feels for you at this time.”
His cruel words hit me straight in the chest. A tear slips down my cheek and I brush it away. But once the flood starts it doesn’t stop and the tears keep falling.
Gabriel draws his chair closer to mine. He hands me a glass of water that I accept. “I’m sorry Aaliya. I’m as helpless as you are.”
“You and I both know what she wants from him and tonight, she may finally succeed in getting it. How am I supposed to go on Gabe, knowing my husband maybe in bed with another woman? What if he’s still in love with her?”
He sighs and points to the glass of water. I gulp it down and compose myself as best as I can. Gabe settles the bill and we leave.
We exchange no words on the car ride back to my place.
“I need to tell him everything, Gabriel,” I say when the car stops in front of my apartment. “It can’t continue like this. I can show him pictures of us, of Rian. Even if he doesn’t remember, he has to believe.”
Gabriel puffs out a sharp breath and holds out his phone to me. “This was the last message he sent me before his accident,” he says. He clicks on his phone and I hear Gabriel’s voice, followed by a beep. And then Damien’s voice comes across on the speaker.
The line beeps at the end and my hands fly to my cheeks. I exhale and inhale, trying to control my thundering heartbeat.
Gabe shuts his phone. “I made him hear it as well. It’s pretty obvious from this that his accident was calculated.”
My skin chills as I recall the fear in Damien’s words. Now I understand why Gabriel didn’t want me to bring Rian with me that time I came to London to see Damien in the hospital. Why he wanted me to stay away from here. Why Damien has a bodyguard following him. Why I can’t tell Damien anything. He would never want me to risk Rian’s life. Rian will always come first for us. I have to keep him safe at all costs.
“Aaliya…” Gabriel shakes my shoulder.
“Why did you not tell me this earlier? I deserved to know, Gabe.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier. I was just trying to keep you from getting frightened.”
I run a tired hand across my face.
“Gabe, no more secrets! From now on anything that affects Damien, you tell me, okay?”
He nods and continues, “We don’t know who tried to kill him, Aaliya. It’s probably the same person who killed his father and brother. At this point, when he already has this mystery to deal with, I’m not sure what he will think if you tell him who you are. What if he refuses to acknowledge you? You’ve seen him, seen how cold he is. What if he thinks it’s some huge plot to get to him? What if the people who are after him come after you and your son instead once they find out who you are? He got a threatening note today, Aaliya. It came in a bouquet delivered to his office.”
My stomach drops. “Oh My God! Tell me you have someone to help you figure this out. Please, Gabe, tell me you spoke to the police.”
Gabe sighs. “Damien doesn’t want to involve the police right now. His father and brother were involved in several nefarious activities while they were alive. We don’t know what all the police may uncover if we involve them. So, right now, Mike, his bodyguard, is helping us decipher everything.”
My hands tremble as I knot them together in my lap.
“I know you’re scared, Aaliya. But Mike is the best there is. He will protect him, with his life if needed. Damien needs to remember you on his own. He needs to remember so he can protect you and Rian once the whole world knows what you both are to him. We can’t risk your life or Rian’s while he doesn’t remember you.”
I sit up straight. “What do I do Gabe? I’m crushed he’s gone to Celia tonight. That he might…” I can’t even complete the sentence. My heart stutters painfully in my chest.
Gabe’s expression softens. “Just continue being who you are around him. He may not remember you, but I’m certain that his heart does. Tonight, the things he remembered, all of it is too much to be a coincidence, Aaliya. Have faith in him. You’re a beautiful woman. Use everything in your arsenal to get him back.”
I contemplate his words as I enter my apartment. At night, when I lay alone in my empty bed, I pray to all the Gods I worship that Celia doesn’t succeed in seducing my husband because even though I’m resolved to get him back at all costs, even though I know he doesn’t remember me, I’m not sure my heart will survive knowing he slept with her. I don’t know if our marriage will ever recover from that horrible knowledge.
Damien
Celia opens the door as soon as I ring the bell of her town house. I run my eyes over her and let out the breath I’d been holding. Thank God, she hasn’t harmed herself. She’s dressed in a night robe that is belted loosely around her waist and a wine glass dangles from her fingers. Her hair is undone, messily falling over one shoulder and her face is flushed.
“Damien,” she rasps, the wine glass tipping from her hand as she leans towards me.
I steady her hand and close the door behind me. Mike glares at me as the door shuts on his face. It was a tremendous task to convince Mike to remain in the car while I speak to her. He gave me a hard time but, in the end, I refused to budge. I wanted to talk to Celia alone and console her out of her suicidal thoughts and I wasn’t sure if she would have been amenable to listen had Mike been standing like a sentry by my side.
Celia steps closer to me. “You came for me.”
She links her arm in mine and guides me to a parlor. The crackling fire burning in the fireplace provides the only light in the room. My foot bumps against an empty bottle of wine on the floor and it rolls away. A half empty bottle is on the table in front of the sofa.
“Where’s all your staff?” I ask her, looking around.
She
waves her hand in dismissal. “Oh, I let them go for the night. I wanted to be alone.”
A warning bell clangs inside my head. “Celia, why are you...”
She cuts me off. “Thank you for coming. I just wanted to talk to someone and I wasn’t sure if anyone else would understand. Please take a seat.”
I sit on the sofa and she settles besides me.
“I’m sorry, Damien,” she breathes out. “I don’t know what came over me. I woke up dreaming David was back.”
She peers into the fire with a forlorn expression. I squeeze her arm and turn her to face me. “You can talk to me, you know,” I tell her gently.
She shakes her head wildly. “I can’t. It was awful. He was a monster. He was Satan in a suit.”
Tears pool in her eyes and she puts her hands on her face and starts weeping, the sound of her broken sobs echoing around us. My fists clench so hard that my knuckles turn white. If David were alive, I’d probably kill him myself for putting a woman through such pain. I uncurl my fists and put an arm around her shoulder. She snuggles closer to me and weeps against my chest.
“Hey, hey! It’s okay Celia. He’s gone. He won’t ever hurt you again,” I tell her, patting her back. She burrows into me further and I sigh as I hold her.
A few minutes later, her tears subside and she looks up at me. “Thank you, Damien. You’ve always been kind. That has never changed.”
“Promise me, you’ll never think suicidal thoughts again. You’ve so much to live for now. Don’t let the past dictate your future.”
She kisses my cheek. “I promise.”
We stare at each other and then she pulls me forward and kisses my mouth. Before I can react, she straddles my lap and pushes her body into mine.
I move my face away from her, but her lips follow mine. “Celia, no!”
“Please, Damien, I need you. I need you tonight. Make me forget. Please help me forget.”
She unties her robe and she’s completely nude under it. She shrugs it off her and looks at me, her eyes sparkling in the light. She swallows, drawing my attention to the slender column of her neck. The firelight dances across her skin, highlighting the dips and curves of her body. Celia throws her head back and her high, firm breasts jut out. Her nipples peak, begging me to give them attention. She takes my hands and guides them down her chest onto her breasts. I squeeze her breasts and she moans. No matter that my heart is screaming a loud NO, my vulnerable body reacts to hers. Celia immediately rubs her core against my hardening body.