“Of my proposal.”
She blinked, trying to dispel the last bit of grogginess from her bruised brain. “No one told me I’d be delirious after surgery.”
His grin deepened. “You’re not.”
She was not about to let herself get carried away, no matter what her insides insisted on doing. “Then why am I hearing the word proposal?”
“Maybe because I said it.” His eyes held hers, his voice dropping. “Maybe because I did it.”
“Do it again.” It was almost a dare. She was afraid to believe him.
Mac took her hand in both of his. “Jolene, will you marry me?”
She couldn’t be hearing right. This was Harrison MacKenzie, Southern California’s leading playboy. The eternal bachelor. The only thing he proposed were illicit liaisons.
“Did I sleep right through to April Fools’?”
“No.” She needed to be convinced. He could understand that. He had, too. But now, nothing was going to unconvince him. “Jolene, I never thought I’d say those words, never thought I’d want to get married to anyone. I know that maintaining a marriage is going to take harder work than becoming a doctor ever did, but I’m willing to work at it, as long as it’s with you.”
She had to say yes. He intended to keep at her until she did. Because he knew she wanted it as much as he did. They were just both afraid. Or had been.
“Willing to do anything to keep you in my life. I want us to be a family, Jolene. You and me, Amanda and Tommy—and your mother.” He hoped that would clinch the deal. He was willing to do anything.
She ached too much for this to be a dream. Jolene pressed her lips together. “This is a lot to spring on a person who just lost half her hair.”
“I can wait. You’re not going anywhere.” He looked at her significantly. “Neither am I.”
She’d been completely dried out by the surgery. Otherwise, she knew there would have been tears in her eyes. “So you’re serious.”
“Never more.”
She lay there, studying his face. Realizing that sometimes, miracles did happen. “Bald women really turn you on.”
He laughed. “Singular. Bald ‘woman.”’ He picked up her hand again and held it in his, his eyes intent on her face. “This bald woman.”
He meant it. She could feel it. Was it possible to feel this much happiness and not explode? “I guess then I shouldn’t deprive you, should I?”
Mac moved his head from side to side. “Wouldn’t be right.”
A glint entered her eyes and he knew that he was home free. “Does this mean I’ll have to keep shaving half my head?”
“You can do anything you like—after you say I do.”
“Can’t beat a deal like that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Just as he leaned over to kiss her, Jolene placed her fingers to his lips. He looked at her quizzically. “And this isn’t some postoperative thing with you? You don’t have some condition that compels you to propose to every woman being wheeled into recovery, do you?”
He tried to keep a straight face as he crossed his heart. “Never happened before.”
“Then I guess the answer’s yes.”
He arched a brow. “You guess?”
“I know,” she corrected. “I’m willing to give you a try.” And then, because he’d told her, she added seriously, “I do love you, Harrison.”
Somehow, though he’d always disliked the name, hearing her say it made everything that much more intimate. “We’re going to do more than try, Jolene. We’re going to make it.”
She smiled just before he kissed her, echoing his phrase. “I’m counting on it.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7034-7
MAC’S BEDSIDE MANNER
Copyright © 2002 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
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