“What is it, babe?” Raoul asked.
“I can remember every single thing about yesterday,” she said dazedly. “I can remember bits about flying with a nurse on a plane, too. It felt like we flew a long way and then you and Zeke came to take me from that plane. That memory is spasmodic but I remember yesterday in its entirety. I remember everything since you guys came to get me.” She looked from one to the other of them expectantly. “Am I getting my memory back, or is my life starting from yesterday?”
“I don’t know, darlin’,” Zeke said, putting the tray down on a table beside the bed. “But it must be a good thing that you remember everything since we picked you up. We’ll ask the neurologist when he comes later today.”
She ate fruit and yogurt and drank more Earl Grey. Then the guys asked her if she wanted to shower and dress, or did she want to see the doctor in bed?
“No, I want to get up.”
She pushed the covers aside and stood up, pleased that her knees didn’t give out beneath her this time. The straps of the nightgown she was wearing slid down her arms and the entire garment pooled at her feet. They both stared at her in her nudity, but Cantara felt no necessity to cover herself. She didn’t know what to make of their expressions and so simply walked to the bathroom, trying not to show how much she didn’t want them to be disappointed by what they saw. She was too thin, her body a mass of bruises and scars that she had no recollection of acquiring.
But she was alive.
Cantara set the shower running and stood beneath the jets for a long time, soaping herself thoroughly and using the fragrant shampoo she found in the stall to wash her hair. Raoul had washed it for her the previous day but now that she could afford the luxury of washing herself as often as she liked, she would do precisely that. Eventually, with a lot of luck, she would feel clean again.
She walked back into the bedroom with towels wrapped around her body and hair. Both guys were still there, presumably in case she needed their help. She was glad to prove to herself that she didn’t.
“Better?” Zeke asked.
“Much, thanks.”
Raoul blew her a kiss. “Let me help you find something to wear, darlin’.”
He levered himself athletically from the bed, not seeming to mind that he was stark naked. In all honesty, Cantara didn’t mind either. He was a sight to behold and she looked her fill, thinking she had good taste in husbands. Powerful muscles shifted and flexed as he moved across the room with catlike grace, sending her a devastating smile that she reacted to somewhere deep within her core. It was as though her body was emerging from a deep trauma and her feminine side was reacting to the attentions of a handsome man in just the way nature intended. She was glad that at least one part of her seemed to be in good working order.
She followed Raoul into her closet. He handed her a pretty pair of panties, the sight of which set off a fleeting memory.
“I bought them for you just after we married,” he explained in response to her confusion. “There’s a bra to match but you won’t need that until we’ve put some weight back on those pretty little tits of yours.”
He fleetingly touched one of the breasts in question and Cantara felt a sharp, tangible need rip through her. She gasped, sending Raoul a questioning glance. He chuckled, seemingly pleased by her response.
“Zeke and I have always been able to turn your lights on with just a touch,” he told her. “Seems nothing has changed.”
Both of them? “You mean, you, me, and Zeke?”
“It will all become clear. Sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said anything to confuse you more than you already are.”
He helped her into a cozy sweatshirt and comfortable cotton pants with an elasticated waist that prevented them from falling straight back down again. She thrust her feet into the slippers Raoul found for her, then went back to the bathroom and towel-dried her hair.
By the time she emerged into the great room, she heard the guys talking to someone. She panicked, and went to turn back to the yellow room—her safe haven.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Raoul held out a hand and she instinctively slipped hers into it. “This is Dr. Sanford. He’s the best man in the area to look after you. Will you let him do that?”
“Don’t leave me,” Cantara replied, panic building inside her.
“Not for a second,” Zeke assured her, taking her other hand and leading her to the seats they had occupied the night before.
Cantara sat between her two guys, feeling apprehensive of the stranger with kind eyes, but mildly euphoric because she could remember sitting there before.
“Hello, Cantara,” Dr. Sanford said in a gentle, non-threatening voice. “I hear you’ve had quite a time of it. Welcome home.”
Sanford already had copies of Cantara’s medical records from the base hospital at Andrews. He had told Raoul and Zeke he was especially interested in their girl’s condition. Trauma associated with captivity was a specialty of his. That was undoubtedly why such an eminent consultant had agreed to make a house call. He spent over an hour with Cantara, gently asking questions that she mostly couldn’t answer. She was tense at first, but when it became apparent that Sanford meant her no harm, she gradually relaxed. But not to the extent that she was prepared to let go of Raoul’s hand. She clutched it so tightly during the entire hour that she was in danger of cutting off the blood flow to his fingers.
“Thank you, Cantara,” Sanford said when he stood up to leave. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you and I hope you start feeling better real soon.”
“Stay with Zeke a moment, babe,” Raoul said, ensuring Zeke had firm hold of her other hand before he extracted his from her grasp. He got up and moved out of ear shot with Sanford.