He gave her a piercing look. ‘You had me trapped, Shanna, and I didn’t like the feeling,’ he continued with a sigh. ‘Hence Samantha, Carrie, Delia, and all the others,’ he said grimly. ‘All those beautiful women, and I didn’t make love to any of them!’
‘You didn’t?’ she gasped.
‘No,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I just felt more trapped than ever, just wanted to be with my woman with the jet-black hair and flashing green eyes. And although you said you didn’t care for me it was you who looked after me when I had ‘flu.’
‘I would have done the same for anyone,’ she blushed.
‘Jack?’ he taunted.
‘No,’ she admitted with a laugh. ‘Not Jack.’ She knew Rick was waiting for some kind of admission from her of her love for him, but she couldn’t give it to him. If she were to die—and God knows she so much wanted to live now!—then it wouldn’t be fair to burden him with her love. Maybe if she were to live… But that could still only be a possibility.
‘I should have realised you were ill.’ He spoke almost to himself. ‘There was the night I had to break into your apartment because you’d fallen asleep, and then the excessive tiredness you felt from working, the way you sleep so heavily. I wondered if you took sleeping pills at first, but there didn’t seem to be any evidence of them, so I dismissed that. I never even suspected the truth…!’
‘You weren’t supposed to,’ she told him quietly. ‘I wish you didn’t know now.’
‘Well, I’m damn glad I do!’ He sat up straight, putting her firmly away from him. ‘I’m not going to let you die, Shanna. You’re going to live, for me. Do you have any idea how lucky you were to even be given the chance of an operation? My mother isn’t so lucky, or you can bet she would have had it by now.’
She flushed her guilt, knowing the truth of his words. She had been a coward all this time.
‘I can’t understand why Henry hasn’t—My God, he doesn’t know, does he?’ Rick breathed slowly as the colour increased in her cheeks. ‘Of course he doesn’t,’ he spoke softly to himself. ‘If he did he would never have let you strain yourself by working at Fashion Lady. And he would have insisted that you have surgery. You didn’t tell your own brother, Shanna?’ he demanded incredulously.
She turned away from the recrimination in his eyes. ‘I didn’t see the point of upsetting him.’
‘You would rather he just found you dead one day, eh?’ Rick rasped angrily. ‘God, woman, you deserve a beating!’ he snapped as she paled. ‘Can you imagine what that would have done to Henry?’
‘I didn’t want to worry him…’ she said weakly.
‘Just contribute to your death by giving you a job! Hell, Shanna, if I didn’t love you so much I’d beat you myself!’ He stood up in forceful movements. ‘Now go and get yourself dressed while I call the doctor.’
‘He won’t see me on a Saturday,’ she shook her head as he pulled her to her feet.
‘He will,’ Rick said grimly. ‘And if he won’t then I’ll find someone else who will.’
Shanna went into the bedroom to dress, feeling a certain amount of relief that Rick knew the truth, that she had been able to at last tell someone about the last six months with Perry, to explain his behaviour if not excuse it. Rick’s strength had been what she had needed to go through with the operation a year ago, a strength Perry had been unable to give her despite their love for each other. When she had woken up in hospital six months ago to be told that her husband was dead, and that her own operation was urgent, she hadn’t even wanted to live, had wanted to die.
And now—now she wanted to live, wanted to be Rick’s wife, to give him the children he wanted. It had been strange the way she had never given Perry a child, despite trying for months, although the doctor had told her the body was a strange thing, that it compensated for its own weaknesses. If she had become pregnant, then having the baby would probably have killed her.
‘He’ll see us in twenty minutes,’ Rick told her when she rejoined him, having dressed in casual black trousers and a bottle green blouse.
She gulped. ‘He will?’
‘Yes.’ Rick’s expression was grim.
‘But—’
‘I’ll be right by your side all the time, Shanna,’ he told her gently. ‘Even if there’s only a slim chance you realise we have to take it, don’t you?’ He held her gaze with his.
We. Yes, they were a couple now; she realised they had become so the first time she gave herself to him.
‘I won’t let you down, Shanna,’ he told her gruffly. ‘Just live for me, darling.’
The couldn’t answer him, didn’t speak at all on the drive to see the doctor, although her eyes widened as they drove to a residential part of London.
‘I managed to find the doctor at his home.’ Even Rick looked a little bashful at this intrusion. ‘Once I’d explained the situation to him he said he would see us here.’
Her nervousness wasn’t helped by the fact that Rick refused to leave her side even once the doctor began his examination, and she felt very conscious of his black-eyed gaze on her all the time Dr Hunt did his examination.
Finally the doctor stepped back, a tall grey-haired man in his early fifties, his casual dress pointing to this being his day off. ‘You can get dressed now,’ he told her. ‘Well, you’ve reduced your chances considerably by waiting like this,’ he continued bluntly. ‘Although that isn’t to say there’s no chance,’ he added hastily at Rick’s groan of protest.
‘How much of one is there?’ Shanna asked softly, gripping Rick’s hand tightly.
‘Hard to say,’ he frowned.
‘When can you operate?’ Rick demanded.
The doctor’s brows rose. ‘Are you a relative of Mrs Logan’s?’
‘Her fiancé,’ he bit out arrogantly, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
Dr Hunt was frowning as he turned back to Shanna. ‘But your husband…?’
‘He died,’ Rick told him tersely. ‘When can you operate?’ he persisted.
‘That would depend—’
‘On what?’ Once again Rick was demanding.
‘On Mrs Logan’s general health at the moment, on her own will to live, and on when the operation can be scheduled.’
‘Her health is fine,’ Rick told him arrogantly. ‘No worse than anyone else’s who expects to die at any moment,’ he added bitterly. ‘And she’ll live for me,’ he stated imperiously. ‘So when can you schedule the operation?’
The doctor looked disconcerted by the arrogance of this man, although he recognised a lot of it as being because of his deep love for the woman at his side. ‘I—’
‘Tomorrow?’ Rick prompted.
‘Well, no, not that soon. But—’
‘How soon?’ Rick’s voice was taut.
‘Rick, calm down,’ Shanna soothed him. ‘Give the doctor a chance to speak!’
He bit back his impatience with effort. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered to the other man.
‘That’s perfectly all right,’ the doctor accepted. ‘In your position I would feel the same way. And I agree with you that no more time should be lost. I may be able to arrange something for the end of the week—’
‘Make that definite, doctor, and we’ll leave you to your day off,’ Rick put in eagerly.
The other man gave a resigned shrug. ‘All right, the end of the week. But Mrs Logan must have complete rest until then,’ he added sternly. ‘And we’ll want her in a couple of days before the operation for more thorough tests.
‘She’ll be there,’ Rick told him. ‘And so will I!’
* * *
It was strange, but for the last three days neither of them had talked too much about the impending operation. Oh, they calmly discussed the arrangements for her admission, and Rick drove her in himself, although Henry had wanted to come too. Her brother had had to be told, and Rick had been the one to do the telling. Henry was calm by the time he came to see Shanna, although tears glistened in his eyes. Rick had persuaded him
that it would be less traumatic for her if they went to the hospital alone, and on this, her last night at home before going to hospital, Henry and Janice had brought the children over to visit for an hour, although the cheerful youngsters could have no idea of the gravity of the occasion.
And now she lay in the strength of Rick’s arms, needing more than just this physical closeness, needing so much more. She began to caress his body, instantly feeling desire surge through him.
‘No!’ he stopped the movement of her hands. ‘Sweetheart, the doctor said complete rest,’ he groaned in the darkness of her bedroom.
And Rick had kept to that instruction to the letter; he had stayed with her day and night, the trip to America forgotten. Lance was despatched in his place, and Rick made sure she did nothing more strenuous than lift a cup to her lips, holding her with platonic comfort every night. ‘We may never have the chance again,’ she reminded him softly.
‘Don’t!’ he choked. ‘God, don’t say that!’ He buried his face in her hair.
Shanna could feel the heat of his tears on her cheek, and her arms tightened about him. ‘Make love to me, Rick,’ she requested boldly as she had once before. ‘Let me go into this knowing how much you love me.’
They made love slowly, savouring each moment as if it really would have to last them a lifetime. And even when passion had been spent they remained as one, staying together like that as Shanna slept in Rick’s arms, and Rick slowly, painfully, watched the black of night turn into dawn’s morning light, his hold on her never wavering, as if he were willing her to live.
Shanna liked hospitals no more than Perry had, despite being in a private room, and the days passed slowly until the morning of the operation. To her surprise she woke to find Rick sitting in the chair next to her bed, his haggard expression and unshaven jaw pointing to his having been there for some time.
She frowned her concern as she sat up. ‘Darling…?’
‘If you die, Shanna,’ he told her raggedly, not moving, ‘you’ll be killing me too.’
‘No!’ she cried her horror.
‘Yes,’ he insisted grimly. ‘So you fight to live for me—and our children.’
‘Rick, even after the operation—if I survive,’ she added softly, ‘I won’t be able to have children for some time.’
‘I know that,’ his eyes glittered. ‘And I don’t care if we have any or not. But I know they’re important to you, so we will have some eventually. But not for some time—I’ll want you all to myself to begin with. I’m having the ranch prepared for us, and my mother is organising the wedding for when we arrive.’
‘Rick—’
‘Don’t think negative!’ he rasped, pale beneath his dark complexion. ‘I refuse to. I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he told her softly. ‘So I did some walking instead,’ he explained away his unshaven jaw. ‘I saw this in a store window,’ he took the ring-box out of his coat pocket, ‘and I knew I had to have it for you. I had the jeweller out of bed at the crack of dawn.’ He opened the box, taking out the ring and slipping it on to the third finger of her left hand. ‘I want you to wear this until I can put it on your finger legally.’
It was a wedding ring, a slender gold band that fitted her finger perfectly. ‘It’s beautiful, Rick, but—’
‘I’ve had it inscribed inside,’ he told her huskily. ‘It says “I love you, R.”’
Her eyes widened. ‘You made the jeweller do that this morning too? The poor man will probably never be the same again!’
‘Probably,’ he acknowledged unconcernedly.
‘It’s a beautiful ring, Rick.’ She touched it lovingly. ‘And thank you for the inscription. But I can’t wear it during the operation.’
‘You can,’ he nodded. ‘I already checked, and wedding rings are allowed. They put some sort of tape over it, I think.’
‘But we aren’t married,’ she laughed.
His gaze was intent, a fire burning in the dark depths of his eyes. ‘We are in every way that matters,’ he said gruffly. ‘And I want some part of me with you all the time.’
Shanna swallowed convulsively. ‘I’ll wear the ring. Did you see the lovely flowers Cindy bought me yesterday?’ she attempted to lighten the tension between them. ‘How is she doing at the magazine?’ she asked as he made no response to the flowers.
‘Fine,’ he dismissed.
‘Have you been in to work at all?’
‘No.’ He held on tightly to the hand wearing his ring. ‘I can’t concentrate. I can’t seem to do anything without you!’
She wanted to comfort him, to help him, but there was nothing she could do or say to make this easier for him.
A nurse came into the room at that moment, coming to a halt as she saw Rick sitting beside the bed. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave now, Mr Dalmont,’ she said briskly as she came in. ‘I have to prepare Mrs Logan for theatre.’
Rick seemed to blanch, his eyes looking bloodshot and haunted. ‘Could you just give us a few minutes alone? I—We won’t be long.’
The nurse nodded slowly. ‘A few minutes.’ She gave an understanding smile before leaving.
Rick’s hand tightened convulsively about Shanna’s. ‘Am I doing the right thing by pressurising you into this operation?’ he groaned raggedly. ‘Am I being selfish? Would it be better to take what time we do have and be thankful for it?’
She touched his face with loving fingers, knowing that she could help him—by telling the truth. ‘I want more than that, Rick,’ she gave him a serene smile. ‘I love you, and I want to spend all my life with you, not just a few months. If anyone was being selfish it was me, by not being honest about my feelings. I thought I would save you pain, but that was wrong of me. I’ll live, Rick, and it will be because we love each other, because we want a lifetime, not a short time together and then loneliness. Do you understand, darling? I’m doing this for both of us.’
‘Shanna…!’ His lips claimed hers in drugging intensity.
‘I love you,’ she clung to him fiercely. ‘I love you so much.’
‘That’s all I needed to know.’ He was smiling as he gently touched her lips with his. ‘I’ll be sitting right here when you wake up. And I’ll be beside you for the rest of our lives.’
And he was, through all the years of their life together, as they watched their children grow up bathed in the knowledge of their parents’ undying love for each other.
* * * * *
Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Michelle Smart’s next book,
THE SICILIAN’S BOUGHT CINDERELLA
Posing as Dante’s fiancée at a society wedding is a far cry from Aislin’s modest life, but she’ll do anything to secure money for her sick nephew. Yet soon their explosive passion rips through the terms of their arrangement, leaving them both hungry for more…
Read on for a glimpse of
THE SICILIAN’S BOUGHT CINDERELLA
CHAPTER ONE
DANTE MONCADA JUMPED INTO THE CAR BESIDE HIS DRIVER, TWO OF HIS MEN CLAMBERING IN BEHIND HIM. THIS WAS ALL HE NEEDED, SOMEONE BREAKING INTO THE OLD COTTAGE THAT HAD BEEN IN THE MONCADA FAMILY’S POSSESSION FOR GENERATIONS.
AS HIS DRIVER navigated Palermo’s narrow streets and headed into the rolling countryside, Dante thought back to his earlier conversation with Riccardo D’Amore. The head of the D’Amore family had put the brakes on a deal Dante had been negotiating for the past six months. Riccardo ran a clean, wholesome business and was concerned Dante’s reputation would tarnish it.
He muttered a curse under his breath and resisted the urge to punch the dashboard.
What reputation? So he liked the ladies. That was no crime. His business empire was built on legitimate money. He did not play the games many Sicilian men liked to play. He kept his nose clean literally and figuratively. He liked to drink and party, but so what? He didn’t touch drugs, never gambled and avoided the circles where arms, drug dealing and people trafficking were considered profitable business enterprises. He worked hard
. Building a multi-billion-euro technology empire from a modest million-euro inheritance, and with an accountancy trail even the most hardened auditor would fail to find fault with, took dedication. For sure, he cut the odd corner here and there, and his Sicilian heritage meant he did not suffer fools, but every cent he’d earned he’d earned legitimately.
But the legitimacy of his business was not the factor behind Riccardo’s foot coming down on the deal that Dante and Alessio, Riccardo’s eldest son, had spent months working on. The D’Amores had developed the next-generation safety system for smart phones that had proven itself hack-proof, out-performing all rivals. Alessio and Dante were all set to sign an exclusivity agreement for Dante to install the system in the smart phones and tablets his company was Europe’s leader in. This system would give him the tools to penetrate America, the only continent Dante was still to get a decent foothold in.
Riccardo’s talk about reputations boiled down to one thing. Dante’s parentage. His recently deceased father Salvatore had been a heavy gambler and the ultimate playboy. His mother Immacolata was known unaffectionately as the Black Widow, a moniker Dante had always thought unfair, as she had never actually killed any of her husbands, merely leeched them for money when she divorced them. His father had been her first husband. She was currently on number five. His mother lived like a queen.
Riccardo, on the other hand, had had one wife, eleven children, thought gambling the work of the devil and sex outside the confines of marriage a sin. Riccardo was concerned Dante was the apple that hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Riccardo wanted proof that Dante was not the mere sum of his parents’ parts and would not bring Amore Systems and by extension Riccardo himself into disrepute. Riccardo was now in advanced talks with Dante’s biggest rival about contracting the system to them instead.
Damn him. The old fool was supposed to have retired.
He had one chance to prove his respectability before the deal was lost for good, Alessio’s forthcoming wedding.
Dante’s angry ruminations on his business problems were put to one side when his driver pulled the car to a stop in a small opening amidst the dense woodland that ran along the driveway to the cottage. A few metres away, also cunningly hidden in the woodland, was a much smaller city car…
Undying Love Page 17
