THE BILLIONAIRE SHE FORGOT

01 Hannah’s POV I woke up with a scar and no memory. The doctors called it a miracle, but it didn’t really feel like one. No name, no identity… nothing. Like an empty canvas, waiting for the stroke of an artist's brush. “Nolan!” I smiled as he stepped into the house, drenched from the onslaught of rain. Droplets dripped from his coat and curls. He looked like something out of a movie, all quiet smiles and wet scruff. I hugged him before I could think twice. It had become instinct. The only thing that felt remotely familiar. “How was work?” I asked. He chuckled, shaking his hair at me. I giggled at the wet splashes. “It was the same. How are you?” “I feel good today. I think I should start working. I know I’ve definitely stressed you out. Plus, it’s already been two months.” Two months since I woke up from my coma in the hospital. Two months and still no memory. Two months since Nolan took me into his house, clothed me, fed me, gave me a place to start over… even if I didn’t ask for it. They told me I was found near the cliffs. Bruised ribs, hair matted with blood. I’d lost a lot of blood. And my head was very much banged up. “H,” he sighed. “You are not a burden. Besides, your recent cooking skills have been very much appreciated.” Nolan called me ‘H’ because of the tattoo I had behind my ear. It was the only part of me that hadn’t been erased. He swore it had to mean something. I just thought it looked like a one step ladder. I helped him out of his wet clothes, and tossed them in the dryer. We went through the motions of a life I’d adjusted to, pretending I hadn’t wondered all day what he tasted like. “I know, but still…” I drawled, and settled in beside him. He unpacked take outs, emptying them into plates. He laughed. “Okay fine, we’ll look for something easy.” Nolan had been the doctor who first treated me. Then he became the man who offered me shelter, and something dangerously close to safety. At the scene of the accident, my phone, wallet and everything that could be used to identify me was lost. But at the trunk of the car, I had a luggage of clothes. Barely recognizable from the fire. We assumed I was a long way from home. I hadn’t seen posters along the streets. No one had called the hospitals. I didn’t know if anyone was looking for me, and I had no idea who would be looking for me. “So,” he said, digging into the noodles. “Mental exercises again?” I nodded. “Still nothing though. Just headaches. No visions. No lightbulb moment.” “Did you take your pills?” His green eyes bored into mine. I blushed and looked away. Nolan and I had gotten closer over the weeks. And we were tiptoeing around whatever this was. Skirting the edge of my missing past, pretending it wouldn’t change anything between us. What if I suddenly remembered something? What if what I remembered wasn’t pleasant? “Yes, doctor.” I licked soy sauce from my lips. He caught the action, and something flickered in his eyes. They dilated, and I watched his throat bob on a swallow. Nolan had a nerdy attractiveness. Blonde hair, green eyes, lips that looked so pink, they were almost feminine, and a gaze that softened when he looked at me like this. He let out a low groan. My tummy clenched at the sound. Two months. No touches. No memories. Just pure, unbridled tension. Tonight, it wrapped around us like a heated vice. He shifted closer. Blood rushed in my ears. The blur of the television droned on and on, but I barely paid attention to the words. We were quiet. Both of us held our breath, almost as if we were anticipating the other's move. His gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips. The air suddenly thickened. The silence was suffocating. “H,” he whispered,“What are you thinking?” I gulped. “Nothing.” My voice came out like a squeak. He chuckled, low and breathy. And I almost sighed at the sound. “That’s a lie. I am thinking about a lot of things," he croaked. He pushed aside the drinks and food. Then, he shifted closer. “Like what?” I wanted to shoot myself in the head for that question. He was so close, yet so far. His scent enveloped my senses. Crisp, yet soft. A contrasting mix, but still very appealing. He turned my face to his with a gentle grip on my chin. And I almost melted into a puddle on the floor. “Why don’t I show you, instead?” Heat rumbled from my belly, and spread all the way up to my chest, neck and cheeks. My heart stuttered as it picked up its pace. He was asking for permission. In a sexy way, of course, but it still counts. “What? I– Nolan…” My breath hitched as I gawked. Both in shock and shyness. I mentally face-palmed. My eyes were wide, and my lady parts were weeping in agreement to Nolan’s question. Humor lined his eyes, and he pressed down on his lips. He raised a brow as he asked; “Can I kiss you?” He watched me like I was something he wasn’t allowed to touch. As much as I was happy, I was also wary. He really didn’t know me. Was it okay to take such a step? There was a beat. I hesitated. He waited. Oh, screw it. I nodded. He gave a little smirk, and dipped his head. I felt his breath before I felt his lips. Soft. Just like I expected. The kiss was slow, languid, almost testing the waters. And when his tongue slipped into my mouth, teasing. I moaned. That was all it took. The kiss turned ravenous. Deep. Hungry. His tongue pistoned in and out of my mouth at a rapid pace and his hands tangled in my hair as mine clutched his shirt. We fell back onto the couch, mouths fused, limbs tangled. His body pressed into mine, and I arched under him. We were a mess. A mess of tongue and teeth, clashing. Goosebumps rippled down my skin as I trailed my hands down his hair, back and up to his firm shoulders. “You’re so f*****g beautiful,” he breathed into my neck. “I’ve waited so long for this.” He groaned. I shivered. He gave a single thrust, and a loud, embarrassing moan tore from my lips. We were still fully clothed, but I could feel all of him. The outline of his length was snug against me, and when he thrust again… I swore I could see stars. Hands moved against each other. Breaths hitched, and mingled. And the room around us blurred. All we knew in that moment was each other. I threw my head back on a silent gasp when his warm mouth closed around my n*****s. My grip on his hair tightened. Then my eyes caught on the television. And everything stopped. I froze. My face was on the screen. Framed in black and red. Beneath it were the words: IN LOVING MEMORY OF HANNAH FREIDA MILLER My breath lodged in my throat. “Nolan,” I said, barely able to speak. “Hey, are you okay?” Nolan turned. Immediately, he stiffened. “Oh my God.” I sat up. My tummy rolled as the broadcast continued. “After three months of searching,” the reporter said. “The Miller family has declared their daughter Hannah Miller, dead. It is such great despair…” Nolan reached for the remote but I shook my head. The camera panned to the audience. Dressed in black suits, black hats and sunglasses, they stood over my coffin. My hands immediately covered my mouth as once again, my face was on the red banner that covered the coffin. My hands trembled as I stared. I was watching my own funeral.