Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set

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Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 67

by Barbara Wallace


  ‘Yes, but I’m not—’

  ‘No, Patrick. You have to go. Orla has never needed you more than now. I know you feel you have failed her in the past. That there is a lot of hurt and misunderstanding. But right now none of that matters. Orla and her baby are the only things that matter. She needs her brother. She needs your strength and support.’

  For a moment he blinked, but then, as her words finally registered, determination came back into his eyes. ‘You’re right. Call the helicopter. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.’

  Aideen immediately made the call, and the helicopter crew promised to be at Ashbrooke within twenty minutes. True to his word, Patrick was back in the kitchen within ten. Wearing a dark red polo shirt and faded denim jeans, his hair still wet from the shower, he looked gorgeous—if a little distracted. She could feel the pumped-up energy radiating from him. She needed to keep him calm, reassure him.

  ‘The helicopter will be here in ten minutes. Do you want to call the hospital again for an update?’

  Instantly he took the phone from the counter and dialled the number. He spoke looking out through the glass extension, down towards the sea, his polo shirt pulled tight across his wide shoulders, his jeans hugging his hips, and Aideen remembered her first night here. How in awe of him she’d been. How bowled over she’d been by his good looks.

  Her heart dropped with a thud and she felt physical pain in her chest. Would she ever stop missing him every single second of every single minute of every single hour?

  ‘She’s seven centimetres dilated...whatever that means. She’s doing okay, but they’re worried as she’s a month early.’ His jaw working, he added, ‘She has nobody with her. Damn it, she shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.’

  She walked towards him and placed a hand on his arm. ‘She’s going to be okay. She’s in good hands, but she’ll be relieved to see you. I bet it’s pretty lonely, going through something so big all on your own.’

  * * *

  He inhaled a deep breath at her words and felt some of the tension leave his body.

  ‘You’re right.’

  And then it hit him just how much he wanted Aideen by his side today. He felt as though he had been struck by lightning, the realisation was so startling.

  ‘Come to Dublin with me.’

  ‘No, I can’t...’

  ‘I want you to come—please.’ His throat worked. Could he actually say the words he needed to say? After so many years of going it alone, to ask for help felt alien. ‘I need your support.’

  Aideen looked totally taken aback. Out of the window he could see the helicopter approaching. He looked from it to her, beseechingly.

  ‘Okay, I’ll come.’

  He was about to lead her out to the garden when he remembered something. ‘Hold on for a minute. There’s something I need to bring.’

  He sprinted down to his office and then straight back to the kitchen.

  Aideen looked at the memory chest and then up at him. She said nothing, but there were tears in her eyes before she looked away from him.

  As the helicopter took off his pilot gave them their estimated flight time. He inhaled a frustrated breath and shook his head.

  Beside him, Aideen asked, ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘No. If Orla had told me she was back in Dublin I could have been there much earlier. I wouldn’t have been ignoring my phone all morning.’

  ‘I can understand your frustration, but Orla wasn’t to know that she was going to go into early labour. And, anyway, that was her decision. She’s a grown woman, Patrick, about to have her own child. You can’t control everything in your life. Today you just need to be there for Orla. Be the brother she loves, and trust that that’s enough.’

  Thrown, he was about to argue. But then he realised she was right. He had to stop thinking that the only way he could show his love for Orla was by taking charge and forcing her to lead the life he thought she should.

  With a small smile he lifted his hands in admission and said, ‘You’re right.’

  She gave him a smile in return and then looked away, her gaze on the endless patchwork of green fields that appeared through the window as the pilot banked the helicopter.

  He longed to reach out and touch her, to hold her hand in his. His heart felt as though it would pound right out of his chest at any moment. Being so near to her but not being able to touch her was torture. But the hurt in her eyes was even worse. You could cut the tension in the helicopter with a knife.

  Though his teeth were clenched tight, he forced them apart in order to speak. ‘How is your cottage?’

  She glanced at him warily, as though questioning why he was asking. ‘Dusty and noisy...’ She paused and held his gaze. ‘But that doesn’t matter. It’s just really good to be home.’ Then her gaze flicked away.

  Why was the silence between them making him feel so uncomfortable? Before, he’d never had an issue with silence, but now it felt as if his heart was being ripped out to fill the void that sat like a physical entity between them.

  He had to speak. Anything but this mocking silence which drove home much too eloquently everything he had lost: her humour, her warmth, her spark and her love of life.

  ‘William will bring down all your files and office equipment once the cottage is finished.’

  She nodded to this, her face impassive. But then she looked towards him with a frown. ‘What’s going to happen to William and Maureen and the rest of the staff?’

  ‘It’s part of my sale conditions that all the existing staff are retained by the new owner.’

  ‘They’re going to miss you—they’re really fond of you.’

  Were they? He had never stopped to think about it. But now he realised just how much he would miss them, too.

  What was he doing? Was anything making sense in his life any more?

  He looked back at her when he heard her clear her throat. ‘I really hope your time with Orla goes well today. Please be patient. I bet Orla misses you desperately, but can’t say it. Maybe for the same reasons that you can’t say it to her.’

  His mind raced at her words. Did Orla fear losing him, too? Was that why she always pushed him away? No wonder the harder he tried, the harder she pushed back.

  He looked at Aideen in amazement. ‘You might be right. So I just need to be there for her?’

  ‘Yes!’ With a small laugh she added, ‘And for goodness’ sake don’t go ordering the midwives and doctors about. I’m sure they know what they are doing.’

  ‘I won’t.’ He gave her a rueful look and added, ‘My managing directors have a lot to thank you for, by the way. I thought about what you said about delegating more control to them and I’ve started doing so.’

  She gave a small satisfied smile. ‘And I bet the world hasn’t come crashing down, has it?’

  He gave an eye-roll. ‘It’s actually a relief to not be bogged down in day-to-day operations. I now have more time to focus on a strategic level.’

  He paused for a minute, uncertain of where to take the conversation. There was so much more he should say, but he couldn’t find the right words.

  ‘How about you? What are your plans?’

  For a split second she winced, but then she sat up in her seat, her voice unwavering as she spoke. ‘I’ve had a lot of orders since Paris, and more than ever I’m determined to make Little Fire the most exciting bespoke textile design business in the world. And I’m looking forward to getting to know the people of Mooncoyne, I want to become part of the community. Get involved. I want to establish roots, to belong.’

  Fresh admiration for her determination to succeed washed over him. But then a kick of reality came when it dawned on him that he didn’t feature in any of her plans. Which was only to be expected. And yet it twisted in his gut that they would soon go their separate ways.

  It was what he wanted. What they had to do. Wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HISHELICOPTER LANDED on the hospital’s helipad and within minutes t
hey were rushing through the front doors of the hospital.

  The receptionist at the front desk blushed furiously when she looked up to see Patrick, and garbled out directions to the delivery ward. As she left Aideen gave her an understanding smile. He had that effect on all women. Herself included.

  He didn’t wait for the lifts but instead took the steps up to the third floor two at a time. Aideen followed his frantic pace, glad she was fit from cycling around Mooncoyne.

  Again there was a flutter of activity when he stopped at the nurses’ desk. Then they were directed to a number of chairs dotted along the corridor outside the delivery rooms, while one of the nurses went into the delivery suite to enquire if Orla was able to see him.

  She could feel Patrick’s nervousness radiating off him. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

  He looked at her for a long while and then nodded, the tension in his face easing a little.

  The door of the delivery suite opened and the nurse came back out, beaming. ‘They’re ready for you,’ she said.

  Patrick looked at Aideen in amazement. ‘Does that mean that...that the baby has been born already?’

  Memories of holding her own niece for the first time, the tremendous wave of love that had speared her heart, caused a lump of happiness to form in Aideen’s throat. ‘Yes. You better get in there.’

  ‘Will you come in with me?’

  ‘No. This is your time with Orla and her baby.’

  He hesitated for a moment. ‘What if I say the wrong thing?’

  ‘You won’t. Just be yourself... And remember Orla is a mum now, well capable of looking after herself. She doesn’t need you to make decisions for her—she just needs your support.’ She paused and eyed him with amusement. ‘And advice... But only if she asks for it.’

  ‘Will you wait here for me? I’d like to introduce you to Orla.’

  ‘I’ll wait.’

  He stood and moved to the door, but then turned and said, ‘Thank you. For everything.’

  She returned his smile, but after the door had swung closed after him it slowly faded.

  From the delivery suite she could hear the murmur of voices. Earnest, but with no hint of argument. Maybe they would be okay. She willed them to be kind and patient with one another. To realise that they needed each other. She hoped they could forget the past and realise what a wonderful future they had before them.

  Patrick would be a great uncle. He had so much generosity and integrity burning inside him. Along with strength and pride. He would be an incredible role model for Orla’s baby.

  The murmurs had given way to light laughter. Patrick now had a newly expanded family to fill his life.

  It was time for her to move on.

  She left a brief note for him on her chair, and then walked back down the stairs and out of the hospital. She would get a cab to the train station. In Cork, she would get a bus to Mooncoyne.

  As she queued at the taxi rank she tried to ignore the excited families going in and out of the hospital. But when a young couple emerged, the dad proudly holding his newborn child, she had to turn away, tears filming her eyes. She could go and stay with her own family, here in Dublin, but knew that if she saw her mum she would instantly burst into tears.

  She would go home and lose herself in her work.

  The taxi rank was busy and the line shuffled along slowly. With growing impatience she willed the taxis to come. She needed to get home. She needed to be in Mooncoyne. She needed the silence and beauty of West Cork in order to heal her broken heart.

  At last it was her turn. The taxi drew to a halt, but just as she stepped forward to open the rear door a hand clasped her arm.

  Patrick.

  * * *

  She had been crying. He tried to draw in a deep breath, but his heart was pounding too loudly, his stomach flipping so frantically there simply wasn’t enough room for his lungs to expand. He’d panicked when he had realised she had gone, and her note hadn’t helped. She had said she wished him well, but would prefer it if he didn’t contact her again.

  This was going to be the most important conversation of his life.

  What if he messed up?

  What if he failed to convince her?

  For a moment he hesitated, fearful of blowing this.

  He had to pull himself together.

  ‘Will you come for a walk with me?’

  She looked back at the taxi and for a moment he thought she was going say no. But then her shoulders dropped and the wariness of her gaze lessened.

  ‘Is this a good idea?’

  He gave her a crooked smile and shrugged. ‘I’m hoping it’s the best idea I ever had.’

  She stared at him in confusion, but then a faint hint of amusement shone in her eyes. ‘Okay.’

  He took her to a nearby park, where sunlight glimmered through the trees and cast dark dancing shadows on the grey tarmacadam paths.

  He didn’t know where to start, so he just blurted out everything that had been building in his chest, in his mind, in his heart, for the past week.

  ‘I’ve missed you.’

  She looked at him with surprise and hurt.

  God, this was harder than he’d thought. He wanted her to understand but he couldn’t find the words. He was usually articulate, forceful. But all of that was now lost to him.

  Should he just take her into his arms and kiss her? Physically show her what he was trying to say?

  That wasn’t the answer.

  He needed to start making things right.

  ‘I’m sorry for what happened in Paris.’

  Her head whipped round. In a rush, she said, ‘No, I should apologise. I said things that were too intense.’ Pointing to the cute blush on her cheeks she added, ‘As you can see, I’m pretty embarrassed about it all. I didn’t mean to put you under any pressure. I guess I misread all the signs.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, you weren’t to blame. Everything happened so quickly. The intensity of it all got to me. After focusing on nothing but work for so long I felt overwhelmed.’

  Her mouth twisted ruefully. ‘I guess what I said would have had most guys heading for the hills.’

  A heavy sadness sat in his chest and his throat tightened with emotion. ‘Not if they’d experienced what we had together. It was special... But I had believed for so long that I wasn’t cut out to be in a relationship I couldn’t see beyond that.’

  She looked at him, bewildered. ‘I don’t know why you keep saying that you aren’t suited to be in a relationship. Forget me, for one moment, and what we had. All I can see before me is a thoughtful, strong, honourable man who is deserving of love.’ She shook her head in exasperation. ‘You deserve to be loved, Patrick. I just hope in the future you can learn to let people into your life.’

  He inhaled a steadying breath. He needed to let his heart speak and ignore the vulnerability and fear of exposing himself. The fear that she would say no.

  ‘You asked me in Paris why I couldn’t be in a relationship and I didn’t answer you truthfully. It was a step I just couldn’t take. Even now it feels like I’m about to yank out my heart and give it to you...which makes me feel pretty exposed.’

  She looked at him, confused.

  He took a deep breath.

  ‘When Orla moved in with me I was frightened of losing her, like I’d lost my mum and dad. So I tried to protect her as best I could. But now, because of you, I understand that I took the wrong approach. I shouldn’t have been so controlling, so protective. I should have included her in the decisions that had to be taken in the new life we were both suddenly facing.’

  He inhaled a deep breath against the way his insides were tumbling.

  ‘You were right about Orla. I have to let her decide what support she wants from me. I’ll admit it will be hard to change, after years of trying to take charge, but I know I can no longer foist what I think she needs on her.’

  His chest felt heavy with so many words still unsaid. He drew her away from the path and gui
ded her to a bench under a giant chestnut tree. The wood was warm under his hands when he gripped the base of the seat tight. He glanced at her, and then away.

  ‘That fear of losing someone is the reason why I swore I never wanted to be in love with a woman. In Paris, as we grew closer, that fear intensified. I was worried that if I fell in love with you I’d only end up losing you at some point in the future. And that thought terrified me.’

  His jaw ached with tension and he had to work it loose before he continued.

  ‘And rather than face that fear I refused to acknowledge what you meant to me. After we slept together all my feelings for you were exposed, and I panicked. I couldn’t handle how I was feeling. How close I felt to you, how I wanted you in my life. And when you said you were leaving I didn’t know how to ask you to stay.’ Shaking his head, he added, ‘At first I was angry at you for going. I wanted you not to love me.’

  He gave a rueful laugh and looked towards the sky in disbelief.

  ‘I was cross that you had fallen in love with me. As if somebody can opt in or out of falling in love. And then I tried to convince myself that perhaps you going was for the best. That if you stayed any longer I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings for you. And then I realised I was kidding myself—that I was lost without you. I missed you, Aideen, with every fibre of my being.’

  He risked a quick glance in her direction and her look of compassion caught him off-guard. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak.

  ‘For so long I thought I’d failed not only Orla but my mum and dad, too. That I had not faced up to my responsibilities. But now I realise I have to accept that I did the best I could in looking after Orla. That I couldn’t do any more. I have to stop blaming myself.’

  His heart raced in his chest and he squeezed his hands even tighter on the edge of the seat before he continued.

  ‘Today, as Orla and I spoke, I could see for the first time in a very long time that we can have a relationship that works, one that’s supportive and loving. And I realised that I have to stop worrying that I will mess up relationships... I have to let go of my fear of losing those I love. I also realised that if I let you go then I would really have failed. Failed you. And myself.’

 

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