“I will not die here!”

Her thin fingers grasped the gate’s huge railings as she stared feverishly through the flurries of snow at the forbidding house.

“I can make it,” she whispered, pushing open the heavy gate. With weakening strength and balancing a growing fear, she summoned the last of her energy to crawl within reach of the heavily studded door. She kicked weakly at the unyielding wood until the black velvet of unconsciousness wrapped her in peace.

* * * *

“Where am I?” She hardly recognised her own rasping voice as she regained consciousness and tried to focus on the weird luxury of her surroundings.

This is no hospital. She took in the rich green drapes of the bed canopy and the elegance of the matching silk bedspread. Pain shot through her chest when she attempted to move. Falling back into the soft pillows, she tried to remember.

Her eyes widened when she turned her head and stared at the man sleeping in a chair by the bed. She blinked, thinking she had imagined him, but when she looked again he was still there. She studied his lean body slumped in the chair, his head tilted to one side. Thick, black hair fell over his collar and unruly locks lay on his forehead. His skin was olive and his features angular with a classically straight nose. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes and he smiled slightly in his sleep, his bottom lip curling upwards.

Moving again, she was overcome with a spasm of coughing. The pain in her lungs was excruciating and her eyes filled with sudden tears.

“It’s okay. Here, drink this—you must be very thirsty.” The man lifted her shoulders and held a glass of water to her mouth. She drank greedily, feeling the liquid cool her burning throat as he lowered her to the pillow. He smiled a warm, open smile which reached the corners of his eyes.

“Where am I?” she repeated.

“In my house. I’m Reece Cameron and I discovered you on my doorstep yesterday. You are ill. You’ve been delirious but you’ll be all right.” He patted her arm reassuringly. “Can you tell me your name?”

The girl was silent for some moments. Then as the realisation dawned, a growing horror overcame her. She shifted in the bed and her hands clutched his arm in a vice-like grip. “I can’t remember.”

“That’s not surprising. You’ve been having some frightening nightmares, so you’ve probably had a nasty experience. But you’re safe now.”

“But, I can’t remember...my name. I can’t remember anything!”

Reece moved to put his arms around her but, in a panic, she fought like a wild bird. “No! No—don’t touch me—don’t!” she cried, frantically struggling. The coughing began again and she was sure she was going to die as pain after pain seared through her chest. Reece gave her some bitter tasting liquid. His face was intent as his steady eyes stared into hers.

“No one is going to hurt you. You have pneumonia and are probably suffering from shock.”

“But you just don’t forget your name. I’m being punished. Something terrible has happened…I know it has!”

“Shh, relax. I found a piece of paper in your jeans’ pocket with a name scribbled on it. Do you think you could be Charlotte Hunter?”

“I don’t know. It sounds familiar,” she said hopefully.

“Well, for now, how about if I call you Charlotte, or perhaps Charlie is friendlier.” A gentle smile formed on Reece’s face.

She nodded, unconsciously shrinking from his closeness. He is kind, but I’m helpless. He can do anything he wants to me. Anything! She shuddered uncontrollably.

He briefly touched her cheek. “Try and get some more sleep.” She closed her eyes and wondered about this stranger who had rescued her from the snow. She assumed he must be a doctor and felt comforted as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * * *

Reece woke from his doze at Charlotte’s sudden, rasping cough. It seemed to tear at her lungs and he held her shoulders, willing her to breathe as she doubled over crying with pain. He watched her pale, exhausted face and tried to hide the bitterness that swept over him. I’ve seen it before—the pain, the hopelessness of it all.

“Thank you, Doctor. I’m sorry.”

“Charlie, I’m not a doctor.” He gave her another drink.

Charlotte pulled the comforter up to her neck. “Are you the only person here?” Her voice quivered and he realised how frightened she was.

“Yes. I have a housekeeper who comes in twice a week. She’ll be here tomorrow.” Once again Reece sat in the chair by the bed. “It may be easier to call me Reece.”

“Mr.… Mr.… Reece.” Charlotte’s expression was apprehensive and then he saw a look of strange pride in her face. “I’m naked. Which…which means you must have undressed me. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have looked at me or touched me.” Her eyelashes lowered and a soft colour rose in her cheeks.

It was this blush which saved Reece from exploding. As it was, he struggled to hide the irritation he felt. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “Charlotte, you don’t realise how ill you are. Last night you were unconscious when I found you soaking wet from lying in the snow. Dr. Allan came up from the village. He diagnosed your condition and left medication.” Reece stood and walked to the window, glancing out at the grey day. He swung around to find her staring at him, her strange green eyes huge in her small, heart-shaped face.

“You ran a very high fever last night. In fact, you still have a temperature now; I can see it in your eyes and feel the heat from you. When you were delirious I sponged you every few minutes to bring down your temperature and yes, I saw and touched your body, but as far as I was concerned, I was trying to save the life of a fellow human being.” Reece finished more abruptly than he intended. His voice was crisp, edged with impatience.

Charlotte fingered the embroidery on the edge of the comforter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. You must think me very ungrateful.”

Reece sat on the edge of the bed. “No, of course I don’t. It must be a tremendously difficult adjustment for you. Have you remembered anything since your sleep?”

Charlotte shook her head. She looked despondent. Reece’s fingers probed a bruise at the side of her head by the hairline and she flinched. “So, you don’t remember how you received this...or—these?” He pulled the cover back and exposed dark, ugly bruises on her shoulder and the curve of her breast. His fingers rested against her heated skin.

“Please don’t,” she whispered shyly, turning away.

He sighed. “I need to sponge you again, Charlie. You’re so hot. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not a sex maniac, you know. We can’t find out who you are until you feel better.” He stood and raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

Charlotte swallowed and hot colour rose again in her pale cheeks. “Ah, I...I need to go to the bathroom.”

Reece hesitated, his eyes intent on hers. She was acutely embarrassed and he didn’t blame her. “Okay, but first, I’ll find you some nightclothes.”