That was why he’d not hesitated in asking Priscilla to marry him within hours of meeting her—he’d been sure it was the right response to her losing her job and being banned from the casino. With both parents deceased and no other family around and her rent due the next day, Priscilla was on the brink of becoming homeless and destitute. His own bank account had a healthier margin, and he was slated to start a new job in a week that would more than support himself and a wife. With hindsight, he ruefully acknowledged the idea of rescuing a pretty woman had appealed to his ego and played a larger part in his proposal than he originally admitted to himself.
But it was obvious Priscilla had no room in her life for a relationship, not when she was in witness protection. If only he could keep in mind that his intention in seeking her out was not to rekindle anything, but to extinguish their marriage to free them both.
Luc heaved himself off the chair. “I think I should go. Maybe you’ll be able to relax better.” Priscilla didn’t try to stop him with either a word or a glance.
Dr. Devins clicked his pen. “That might be best.”
Nothing for it but to leave. He walked to the door and opened it but couldn’t resist one final glance back at Priscilla. To his chagrin, her focus was entirely on Dr. Devins, who spoke softly to her in words he couldn’t hear. So much for needing his presence after all.
TWELVE
As the door clicked shut behind Luc, Priscilla’s shoulders slumped. She had been acutely aware of him beside her, the warmth from his hand as he held hers. But her anxiousness from the past couple of days threatened to derail the doctor’s trip down memory lane. Even though Luc had abided by the psychiatrist’s instructions and remained quiet, she sensed Luc willing her to remember more of the past. That unsaid expectation had only added to her tenseness.
“Shall we start over?”
She nodded and closed her eyes again, sending a short prayer that this time she would successfully recall more of those missing hours.
“Breathe in and out to my count of ten,” Dr. Devins instructed.
Priscilla concentrated on breathing in and out, listening to the cadence of Dr. Devins’s voice as it rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. The room morphed into a noisy casino with the flashing lights from the slot machines bouncing off the mirrors that adorned the ceiling and walls. Priscilla wove her way expertly through the crowds, neatly avoiding customers with grabby hands.
She approached a high-top table meant for four people, but which instead seated seven young men. Their intoxicated behavior and raucous banter about one member getting ready to tie the knot informed her that this was a bachelor party. At least bachelor parties usually tipped well. With a plastered-on smile, she asked brightly, “What can I get you gentlemen?”
A brown-haired man in the party made a lewd comment that triggered guffaws from all the other members, except for one—a tall blond with piercing blue eyes, who stood a little back from the group. There was something familiar about him. He shot her an apologetic smile as she took the rest of their drink orders. When she got to the blond man, instead of ordering vodka shooters like his friends, he asked for club soda with a twist of lime and an order of nachos and chicken wings.
As if someone had hit the fast-forward button on a DVD, the scene shifted to later that same evening. In the darkened hallway leading to the employee break room, Priscilla grappled with the brown-haired man from the bachelor party.
The man pressed her against the wall and planted sloppy kisses on her face and neck while his hands groped her body. Her back pressed hard against the wall, giving her no room to maneuver away or counter his attack. She bucked her body against his to throw him off balance, but he merely grunted, then yanked her hair to position her head where he wanted it and continued his assault.
The man shifted and Priscilla jammed her high heel into the instep of his foot. He yelped and sprang back, anger replacing his desire.
She darted to the side, but his hand whipped out and grabbed her upper arm in a viselike grip. Priscilla cried out in pain, but suddenly, the pressure on her arm was gone. She turned to see the blond man absorb a blow to the face from her attacker before punching the other man, knocking her attacker to the floor. Her attacker’s jaw sported an angry mark on his white skin while her rescuer had corresponding redness on his cheek.