A blanket made of snow, constructed by an avalanche. Yep, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good in an “I think I might die here” kind of way.
Finn thought about screaming but decided it was more important to conserve air. He had a transponder on his jacket; hopefully his group would know he was missing and not think that he’d skied on ahead of them. His fault for trying to be a hotshot. The best thing he could do now was try to relax, try not to think…
But think he did.
Beah’s face, pale and lovely, those red curls tumbling to her shoulders, appeared on the big screen behind his eyes and he wished…
Wished he had another chance. Wished he’d loved her like she deserved to be loved, wished he hadn’t wasted the past decade trying to protect himself. He should’ve been braver, smarter, dammit, and accepted the love she’d offered him.
A bit late now, jackass.
Finn felt the blackness approaching, could see it at the corners of his eyes. How long had he been trapped? He didn’t know but he was pretty sure he was slowly suffocating and running out of time. Eleven minutes and he’d be a corpse, how much longer did he have?
Finn moved his hand and drew a heart in the snow, managed to scrape his and Beah’s initials with his finger, knowing she wouldn’t see it but needing to leave something tangible on the earth he was about to leave.
Then the world turned dark…
* * *
In the hired car on the way to the hospital, Beah turned in her seat and looked at Carrick, whose hand had yet to leave her back. “Tell me again,” she demanded, her voice raspy with fear.
“He was caught in an avalanche,” Carrick patiently replied, giving no hint he’d told her the same story at least twenty times between picking her up to take her to his private jet and pushing her into this hired car five hours later.
“When they found him fifteen minutes later, he didn’t have a pulse. They resuscitated him with CPR. He has severe hypothermia but he’ll be fine.”
“No brain damage from the lack of oxygen?” Beah asked, again. She’d heard this before, she knew the answer, but Carrick’s and Ronan’s calm voices and steady eyes reassured her.
“Today was a warm day and he wasn’t wearing much gear and the hypothermia slowed his metabolism and reduced his brain’s need for oxygen. It helped that Finn is super fit.”
Beah looked down at her trembling hand and at her bouncing knee. “I’m going to bloody kill him!”
“You and me both, Bee.” Ronan sent her a sympathetic smile. He was driving, Joa sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Sadie sat on the other side of Beah, her hand on Beah’s knee.
“There won’t be any recriminations, any yelling or shouting or accusations, until Finn is back to full strength,” Carrick told them.
Ronan looked in the rearview mirror and caught Beah’s eyes. The rolling of his eyes almost, but not quite, made her smile. Man, she’d never been so terrified, was still scared and knew she wouldn’t be able to function properly until she saw Finn’s face, heard him breathing, felt the thump of his heart under her hand. A part of her still thought he was dead, that she’d lost him, and a shudder racked her body.
She didn’t want to live in a world without Finn.
Beah buried her face in her hands, feeling another batch of tears wetting her fingers. Then she felt the car slowing and she jerked her head upward, seeing they’d arrived at the hospital. Ronan braked, and as soon as the big SUV came to a stop, she crawled across Sadie, almost tumbling out the door.
She heard her friends yelling for her to wait but Beah started to sprint across the road, heading for the entrance. She couldn’t wait anymore, not one second longer. She flew through the automatic doors and spun around in circles, looking for signs. She’d heard Carrick say he was in room 201.
Beah saw a sign and, not bothering to wait for the elevator, found the doors leading to the stairs and sprinted up one flight, then two. Bursting into the hallway, she dodged around a cleaner’s cart, skidded past the nurses’ station and looked around, wild with worry.
The two and one shimmered on the door and the looked through the window to Finn’s room and sobbed at the sight of his closed eyes, his oh-so-pale face and his still slightly blue lips.
Beah felt hands lifting her up, felt Ronan’s arms around her. “Sssh, Bee, stop crying, sweetheart.”
Beah gulped, held on to his shirt with tight fists and made herself look up into those eyes so like his younger brother’s. “Don’t tell me he’s dead, Ro. Please.”
Carrick gently separated her from Ronan. Linking an arm around her waist, he pushed the door open. He pulled her over to Finn’s bedside and placed her hand on his chest.
“Feel his heart, Beah. Look at this machine, it’s showing his heart rate. He’s fine, Beah, he’s just sleeping.”
Beah put her head on Finn’s chest and wept.
TEN
A full week later, Finn, knowing Beah had arrived at Logan International earlier in the day, arrived at Mounton House an hour before Keely and Dare’s wedding, It wasn’t, he knew, the best time or place but he was done waiting…
When he’d come around in the hospital, his brothers and their partners were around his bed but he didn’t see the one face he most wanted to see. His welcome-back-from-the-dead party hadn’t included a curly-haired redhead.
Oh, he now knew she’d come to the hospital, heard she’d been an absolute basket case. His brothers told him that while he was asleep, Beah wept over his cold body and then grilled his doctors about his injuries, possible brain damage and his expected recovery time.
When she was satisfied he’d make a full recovery, she’d left the facility without seeing him again, without giving him a chance to speak to her.
Finn ran his hand over his beard, wishing Beah had stuck around instead of flying straight back to London. He’d spent the past week leaving voice mail messages, and not receiving any responses to his call-me-dammits, he’d sent her a barrage of text messages asking her to get in touch.
Her only reply was a brief two sentences…
Glad you’re okay. Then again, God does protect the stupid.
Beah was pissed and he couldn’t blame her. He had been stupid, but not in the way she thought. His accident had been a fluke and he planned to be back on skis as soon as he could. He wasn’t going to let being caught in an avalanche kill his love for his favorite sport.
But when he went back, he wanted to go with his brothers, with his lover, hopefully with his wife.
Because in his heart, she was still his wife, still the beat of his heart.
No, he’d been stupid to let her go, then and now. That he’d admit to, on any day of the week and twice on Sundays.
Finn ran up the stone steps to the front door of Mounton House and hit the doorbell. After a minute, Dare Seymour opened the door, his untied black bow tie hanging down the front of his snow-white shirt.
“Good to see you, Finn. Glad that avalanche didn’t kill you.”
Yeah, so was he.
“Are you supposed to be here?” Finn asked him, shaking his hand. “You know, seeing the bride before the wedding and all that crap.”
Dare grinned. “I’ve been told I can hang out down here but Keely will kill me if I go up to the first floor,” Dare told him. He nodded to the wide, imposing stairs. “I presume you are looking for Beah?”
Finn nodded.
“She’s with Keely, up the stairs and second door on the right.”
Finn nodded his thanks and ran up the steps, for once not seeing the art or the massive portrait of Isabel Mounton at the top of the landing. There was only one face he wanted to look into.
He hurried down the hallway and stood in front of the door, smoothing down the lapels to his tuxedo. This was do-or-die time, the rest of his life. He had to get the words right, tell her what she
needed to hear…
Do not mess it up, Murphy.
Finn knocked on the door and without bothering to wait to be told to enter, walked inside. Four sets of eyes—makeup artist, Keely, hairdresser, her sister Joa—turned to look at him but none of them were whom he most wanted to see.
Keely jerked her head and he spun around to see Beah standing beside the wall, next to what looked to be a complicated and expensive wedding gown. She wore a soft silver-gray wraparound dress with a long skirt and a plunging neckline. Her hair was piled in a messy, natural bun and her makeup didn’t, for once, cover her freckles.
She looked wonderful, gorgeous enough to take his breath away, but her eyes reflected her sadness. That had to change…immediately.
Beah looked away from Finn to Keely and back before biting down on her bottom lip. “Finn? Why are you here?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days but you’re not taking my calls,” Finn said, his eyes not leaving her face.
“If you wanted to talk to me, you could’ve jumped on a plane, or used the Murphy jet. I hear those planes can fly both ways.”
Ouch. “My doctors, and my brothers, wouldn’t release me from the hospital or I would’ve done exactly that.”
Beah narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to decide whether he was telling the truth or not. He was. He’d only been released from hospital the previous night, after telling the doctors he had a wedding he needed to attend, and he still felt bruised and battered and a bit wiped.
But he could see Beah was pissed. He didn’t blame her. If she’d nearly died, he would be reacting the same way. “Let’s talk, Bee,” he said, trying to be as gentle as he knew how.
Beah sent Keely a look and Keely grinned. “Go, Bee. Just keep an eye on the time. Dare has promised to drag me downstairs if I’m even a minute late.”
Finn grinned at his old friend, her blond hair in curlers and her makeup half done. “He’s in the hallway, pacing. He can’t wait to marry you. And you look fabulous, Keels.”
“Liar.” Keely’s smile was bright enough to blind the sun. “But I will. Take your wife out of here, Finn.”
“I’m not his wife,” Beah said, throwing up her hands.
Not wanting to get into an argument in front of strangers, Finn just opened the door and waited for Beah to walk into the hallway. When she finally did, he closed the door behind him and looked at the belligerent love of his life.
She slapped her hands against his chest. “I am. Not. Your. Wife.”
The urge to kiss her was nearly overwhelming, so Finn jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit pants to keep from reaching for her. “Maybe not, according to the legal system. But in my head and in my heart, you are.”
Knowing how easily he could mess up—talking wasn’t what he did well—Finn kept it simple. “I love you, Beah, and I’d love to marry you again. Anywhere, anyhow.”
Beah’s pretty pink lips dropped open in complete shock.
“But if you don’t want to get married, or even live with me, if you want to stay in London and see each other when we can, that’s okay, too. I’m not proud. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
It wasn’t ideal, but what was his other choice? Not seeing her at all? Unacceptable.
Beah held up her hand as if trying to fend off his words. “You walked away from me, Finn. For the second time.”
“And if I could kick my own ass, I would,” Finn admitted. “I got scared, Beah. You scare me.”
She stared down at her silver shoes, at her pretty painted toes.
“But you know what scares me more?” Finn waited for her to look at him and when she did, he took the chance to slide his thumb across her bottom lip. “Never kissing these lips again terrifies me. Not hearing your laugh, sleeping in an empty bed, not having you in my life, scares the crap out of me, sweetheart.”
Beah looked like she was about to speak and Finn shook his head, needing to get it all out. “When I was trapped under the snow, not able to move, just before I blacked out, your face was all I could see. I felt such profound regret for all the time we’ve wasted, for the love and life we never shared, for the babies we never made. There’s nothing like nearly dying to know what you most want from life.”
Beah’s eyes were bright with emotion. “And that is…?”
“You. It’s all you. You are what the rest of my life looks like,” Finn said, his voice low and cracking. He was ten seconds away from begging and he didn’t care. Beah was his world…
“Let’s find a way forward, Bee. I wasn’t joking when I said I would take anything I could get from you.”
Beah put her hands together as if in prayer and rested her linked fingers over her mouth. She stepped away from him and Finn felt his hope slipping. She was moving away; she was thinking too much, allowing her brain to rule her heart. He was about to get drop-kicked, forty-five minutes before Keely’s wedding.
Crap. Dammit. Hell.
“I still want to leave Murphy’s to take the partnership Michael is offering,” Beah said, lifting her gorgeous but stubborn chin.
He didn’t care if she chose to run for president or whether she sat at home for the rest of her life. She could do anything she damn well wanted.
“And I’d like to keep my flat in London since I’ll be doing business there,” Beah said, her tone thoughtful.
If she had a point, she was taking far too long to reach it. His patience was wearing thin. “Do you love me or not?” Finn demanded, his loud words bouncing off the old walls.
Beah smiled at him. “Maybe. Maybe my love for you was the reason I absolutely lost it in the hospital in Colorado, why I’ve cried myself stupid, why I thought my world had ended when you walked out of it.”
Finn felt a wave of shame. “I’m so sorry. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
Beah finally, finally reached out to touch him, placing her hand on his tuxedo jacket, just above his heart. “I don’t need you to do that, I just want this.”
“My heart?”
Beah nodded and Finn covered her hand with his. “You always had it, darling. I was just too stupid to realize it.”
Beah blinked away tears. “I have a couple of stipulations, Murphy, some ironclad rules.”
Here it came, Finn thought, the demand for him to stop indulging in dangerous sports. And of course, he’d agree to stop. Anything Beah wanted he’d give. She was his biggest priority. And always would be.
“I want to get married again, in a church this time, with bridesmaids and a priest, flowers and a kick-ass dress.”
Easy enough to agree to since he wanted that, too. He nodded, holding her beautiful face between his hands. “What else?”
“We need to talk more, Finn. We need to connect, every day and in every way.”
“I can work on that. I will work on that. I promise to do better, Beah. What else?”
Instead of making more demands, she smiled at him, a sweet, tender smile full of love and happiness. “I love you, Finn. I hope you know how much.”
Finn brushed his lips across hers before resting his forehead against hers. “And I love you, Beah. Sorry I was an idiot.”
Beah’s chuckle was as sexy as hell. “You’re forgiven, but if you nearly die again, I will kill you myself.”
Finn pulled back, a small frown between his eyebrows. If she wasn’t going to ask, he’d offer. “I’ll stop the adventure sports if you want me to, Bee. If it gives you peace of mind, I won’t chase those thrills anymore. You are my biggest thrill, anyway.”
Beah shook her head, her eyes tender and the color of warm honey. “I’m not going to ask you to stop, Finn. I don’t want to take away something you love. I can handle your passion for danger. I’m just asking you to take extra care because my heart nearly stopped when yours did. Love what you do, Finn, bu
t love me enough to always come back.”
Finn, feeling like he’d won every jackpot in the world, folded her into his arms and rested his lips in her hair, tears burning his eyes. Loving her was going to be the biggest joy and the biggest privilege of his life.
“Will you marry me again, Beah Jenkinson-Murphy?” he softly asked, his voice rough with emotion.
“Absolutely,” Beah said, her eyes radiating the happiness he felt. She grinned. “But not today. Today we need to marry off our favorite bossy blonde so she can drive Dare mad for the next fifty years.”
Finn kissed her again before pulling back, knowing if he started, he wouldn’t be able to let her go. “Dare is looking forward to the challenge.”
Beah stood on her tiptoes, kissed him and then wiped her lipstick off his bottom lip with her thumb. “As much as I want to stay with you, Keely needs me.”
“I know she does, and it’s fine. See you downstairs?”
Beah nodded, squeezed the hand she was holding and reluctantly stepped back. Finn watched her walk away, his heart full to overflowing. His wife was his again, and his heart was full.
In her, he had everything he’d ever need.
EPILOGUE
It was close to midnight on the night of the iconic Mounton-Matthews sale and Beah was exhausted. After a six-month campaign, an online sale and two days of live auctions, the disposal of Isabel’s collection was complete, culminating in the sale of the lost Winslow Homer for—Beah looked at the screen above Ronan’s head—was that two point five million or twenty-five million?
Beah squinted at the board: twenty-five million…taking the sale’s total to more than half a billion dollars. Holy crap, that was a lot of money.
Beah ignored the giddy atmosphere in the room, the loud laughter, the buzz a result of adrenaline and relief.
They’d pulled it off.
Beah stood behind the counter with the other Murphy staff who were working the phones for telephone bids—she’d agreed to be the intermediary for Paris Cummings, who was the new owner of both Homer’s painting and the Vermeer, as he’d wanted his anonymity preserved—and glanced around the room. Joa stood with Carrick and Sadie, Keely and Dare, her eyes on Ronan’s face as tears slid down her face. Beah couldn’t see Keely’s face since Dare held her head to his chest, patting his wife’s back.
Harlequin Desire June 2020 - Box Set 1 of 2 Page 45
