The room wasn’t cluttered, nor was any space wasted. There were fresh flowers in a bowl on a Queen Anne desk. On the dresser was a collection of tiny bottles in pretty shapes and colors that could have no use at all. They, too, pleased her.

She stepped onto a rug in muted shades of rose and touched the curved back of a chair.

“I’m told you redecorated your room about three years ago,” Reeve said casually. “It must be a comfort to know you have good taste.”

Had she chosen the material for the soft, cushioned love seat herself? Brie ran her finger over it as if the feel would trigger some hint. Anything. From the window she could look down on Cordina as she must have done countless times before.

There were gardens, a roll of lawn, a jut of rock, the sea. Farther out was the city, houses and hills and green. Though she couldn’t see, she was sure children were still playing in the park near the fountain.

“Why am I blocking this out?” Brie demanded suddenly. When she turned around Reeve saw that the calm, reserved woman he’d brought upstairs had turned into an impassioned and desperate one. “Why do I block out what I want so badly to remember?”

“Maybe there are other things you’re not ready to remember.”

“I can’t believe this.” She flung down her purse on the love seat and began to pace, rubbing her hands against each other. “I can’t bear having this wall between me and myself.”

Fragility aside, he thought, there was a great deal of passion here. A man could find it difficult to overlook the combination and go about his business. “You’ll have to be patient.” And as he said it, he wondered if he was cautioning her or himself.

“Patient?” With a laugh she dragged a hand through her hair. “Why am I so sure that’s something I’m not? I feel if I could push one brick, just one brick out of the wall, the rest would crumble away. But how?” She continued to move quickly, with the kind of grace she’d been born with. “You could help me.”

“Your family’s here for that.”

“No.” The toss of her head was regal, and though her voice was soft, it held command. “They know me, of course, but their feelings—and mine—will keep the wall up longer than I can stand. They look at me and hurt because I don’t know them.”

“But I don’t know you.”

“Exactly.” She swept her hair away from her face with a gesture that seemed less impatient than habitual. “You’ll be objective. Because you won’t constantly try to protect my feelings you won’t pull at them. Since you’ve already agreed to my father’s request—haven’t you?”

Reeve thought of his land. As he dipped his hands into his pockets, he frowned. “Yes.”

“You’ve put yourself in the position of breathing over my shoulder,” she continued smoothly, “and since you’ll be there, you may as well be of some use to me.”