Free Silver Bound by Ella Drake Page A

slanted brows, but she didn’t hear his words over the buzzing in her ears. She gripped her head and closed her eyes.
    A loud pop joined the drum for one heart-stopping moment, and then a fleeting vision, like a pinprick in a parchment paper, let the sun through.
    The drum in her head stopped abruptly. She jolted in the chair.
    “Jared,” she whispered. “My son’s name.”
    “You can’t know that.” He sounded harsh, and his features drew tight in lines around a frown. He softened his voice. “Your memories are wiped. Maybe I’ve rushed you. You must be tired.”
    “I don’t know my son, what he looks like, nothing but his name.” She couldn’t stop sounding like a child seeking comfort. Arms wrapped around her belly, she fought the ache to join Guy, to crawl into his lap and feel his arms around her, but he’d commanded her to stay.
    “Perhaps the mind-wipe isn’t as complete as I’d thought,” Guy replied, distant, as his gaze lost focus.
    Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Not only didn’t he want her to ease his passionate needs, perhaps because she didn’t please him sexually, but she’d somehow become flawed as well. Broken. Maybe because she’d been married.
    All she could do was sit and wait for him to tell her what to do, how to act. Along with the small pinprick in the dam of her memories—she sensed that was what it was—a fraction of identity crept into her. Without a doubt, as short a time ago as yesterday, she’d disallowed a man from owning her. Yet today, she ached to be owned, held and told what to feel.
    Guy’s attention snapped back to her. “I’m waiting on a report about your husband. Well, your ex-husband. Legally you became unmarried when they wiped your mind.” He was still speaking to her in a remote fashion, as if he were a news hologram reporter.
    “Unmarried.” She tried the word on her tongue but didn’t have a response. Nothing. No twinge of remorse, no hint of connection, no drum beating her senseless.
    “Your father sent communiqués to pave the way for us. We have an appointment with a Dr. Wells. He’ll check you out and try to remove your memory block.”
    Another chill swept through her, and she wished she could go to bed, forget the torment that tugged in every direction, but she couldn’t sleep anyway, not with the unappeased lust she’d sensed in Guy. That lack in her duty started as a dull ache in her belly, but it throbbed in a slowly gathering tempest. Soon, according to the instruction given her by the silver-tipping technician, her compulsion would cause her real mental and physical agony. Sleep would be impossible.
    “Why?” she croaked, not really asking why he planned to have her memory returned, but why he wasn’t at this moment allowing her to fulfill his sexual fantasies.
    He was her reason for being.
    “For one, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get your son back unless you can tell me what happened to you over the last few days.” A crack in his demeanor showed, and his stare caught her, searched her for reaction.
    She licked her lips. “A mother should want her son.”
    She should, but somehow she was flawed. Wouldn’t a mother feel for her child, no matter what had happened to her mind?
    Beyond the pain of the leaked memory moments ago, she couldn’t find anything inside her except the yearning to hold Guy. She clenched the silk of her wrap. She needed to get through this discussion quickly and move on. Get in that lush bed that drew her attention almost as much as the man in front of her. “And?”
    “Secondly…” He paused, a clear look of pity on his face. “You’re not you. Without your memories, you’re not the woman I’ve known. You can’t make decisions for yourself. It’s a crime what they did to you, and I’m a sheriff in our world. It’s my duty to see that you get the help you need. You’ll never have your whole life back, but I’ll be damned if I can’t free you to a degree. At least, everything