Sleeping Love Read Online Free

squeal. He led her out of the room. Sabrina made every effort to drag her heels, pulling at his hand to force him to let go. Raoul only tightened his hold further and dragged her along.
     
    Sabrina’s eyes could see nothing but what the candles allowed her to see. They travelled through the dark rooms, the wooden floors creaking and groaning with centuries of use under their feet, highly audible in the ghostly silence that settled on the house. Finally, they reached a room that she presumed was Raoul’s study by the elaborate desk and leather chair he dragged her behind. He came to a stop in front of a large framed canvas and raised the candelabrum, directing her to look at it.
     
    Sabrina gasped out loud. There was no mistaking her own image. She was seated in a chair in a black velvet ball gown cut away seductively across the breast. Raoul stood tall, proud and possessive at the side of the chair. Her hair was longer, and her eyes twinkled with a happiness. Sabrina couldn’t remember looking that happy or even feeling that way in the last seven years. It was breath-taking and a shock to the system. She tried to take a step back and found herself half falling to the floor, half fainting with shock. Raoul caught her waist skilfully and pulled her up close to him. It was then that the lights came back on.
     
    ‘Now do you believe me, Sabrina?’ Raoul demanded, a note of triumph and vindication in his voice.
     
    She glanced around the room. The place was littered with photographs of herself and Raoul very much in love. The room began to spin with a carousel of broken memories, a hundred swirling images that were there in a second and gone in a heartbeat. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Her body began to sway alarmingly as she looked up at the canvas again. Raoul slipped his arm under her legs and swept her up into his arms to deposit her onto a chair. He quickly moved away and poured her a glass of cognac from the drinks cabinet.
     
    ‘I know you don’t like cognac, Sabrina, but you will drink it. You need it for the shock you have just experienced. Now drink.’
     
    He was right. She didn’t like it. She wasn’t keen on alcohol apart from wine. Sabrina obediently took the glass, too dazed and confused to pass comment on his correct knowledge. But her trembling hands made her clumsy, and he took control holding the glass to her lips, instructing her to sip slowly. She coughed as the fiery liquid hit the back of her throat and tried to push the glass away, but he was firm, giving her no choice but to continue drinking. He watched her anxiously when frustrated tears gathered in her eyes once more.
     
    ‘You have been using your middle name, Sabrina. Your first name is Melissa,’ he gave a small laugh. ‘You hate it, so you use Sabrina. Michaels is your maiden name. You’ve been using them without even knowing.’
     
    He knelt at her feet, gently cupping her face with his hands.
     
    ‘There is no Christophe Valoire is there?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
     
    Raoul shook his head and smiled.
     
    ‘No there isn’t. It was just a ruse to get you here. You disappeared from the Chateau on the night of a ball I held for your birthday party, seven years ago. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get you to believe me until I brought you home. I saw the way you looked at the Chateau. You remembered it. I knew you would. You love this place.’ He smiled at her again. There was relief in his eyes. ‘This is going to be difficult for you, Sabrina. I am a stranger to you at the moment, but in time I hope I can help you remember our life together.’
     
    ‘I don’t know what’s happening. I just want to leave,’ she heard herself say before she could even think. ‘I’m confused. I can’t trust all of this . . . I . . .’
     
    He sighed.
     
    ‘You’re afraid. I understand that. It’s a lot to take in, but I can’t let you leave. You are my wife, you belong here, and I am never going to