Three Weeks Last Spring

by Howard, Victoria

  "It's him isn't it? You're still in love with him. Forget him, he's no good. He'll only hurt you again. He's just like that other yank, Michael. Haven't you learned that America is a throw-away society and that includes people too?"

  Skye flinched, and pressed a hand to her throat. "You've said quite enough. I won't change my mind." She opened the door and ran down the path towards her car. Visibly shaking, she fumbled to get the keys in the ignition, but mercifully the engine fired before John could lay more than a fingertip on the door handle. She gunned the engine. Her last sight of him was as he stood on the curb watching her drive away, a glazed look of defeat and utter despair spreading over his face.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Walker took his time packing, hoping against hope that Skye would somehow change her mind and come to him, but she didn't. He took the airline ticket he’d purchased for her from his wallet, screwed it into a ball and tossed it into the waste paper basket. He wouldn't need it now.

  The emptiness he'd felt during the last few months was nothing compared to what he now felt. He'd made his pitch, but it hadn't been good enough. Skye had made her choice and it wasn't him. Twice he'd let her walk away, but this time he knew it was for good.

  He called the lobby and had the rental car brought round to the front of the hotel. If he didn't leave soon he'd miss his flight. He paid the bill and checked out.

  The events of the last twenty-four hours had left him in a foul mood and the heavy London traffic did nothing to improve it. For reasons he failed to comprehend, returning the key of his rental car became a major undertaking, requiring more paperwork than it did to buy the damned thing.

  The queue at first class check-in was minimal and having completed the formalities, he checked his luggage. He walked through the terminal to the nearest bar and he ordered a large scotch on the rocks. It tasted like gall, and he pushed the glass away in disgust.

  He hated commercial flights. The three-hour check-in always seemed a ridiculous waste of time, and the hours dragged more slowly than usual. Rather than going through to the departure lounge, he wandered the terminal aimlessly.

  He looked at his watch for the hundredth time, until he couldn’t delay any longer. With a heavy heart, he started walking towards passport control and security screening.

  ***

  "Hey, miss, you can't leave your car here!" The parking attendant shouted at the auburn haired woman as she abandoned her car outside the main terminal building. She didn't care whether they towed it away or not. She glanced at the slim gold watch on her wrist and started running toward the glass doors.

  Breathless, she pushed her way through the crowds of travellers. She scanned the listings on the departure board. There was only one flight to Seattle showing, but it had already been called. Gate thirty-seven; right at the other end of the terminal building. Even if she could bluff her way through security she would never make it in time. She started running and pushing her way through the throng of people once more.

  Her lungs burned with effort as she ran the final yards towards Passport Control. The queue was longer than she’d anticipated. She stopped in dismay, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her sense of loss was beyond tears, the only things left to her were the raw sores of an aching heart. She scanned the faces, tears welling in her eyes. Hastily, she brushed them away and hurried towards the desk. There! There in front of her, head and shoulders above his fellow passengers stood a dark haired man. She wasn't sure it was him, but gathering what little breath she had left, she shouted with all her might.

  Walker waited impatiently in line with his fellow passengers. There were half a dozen or so people in front of him, but he knew that time had run out. Soon he would have no alternative but to take that final step and pass through Passport Control or miss his flight.

  Above the noise of the crowds, he thought he'd heard someone call his name. He turned to look, but there was no one he recognized, just the usual melee of travellers in a rush to get to their destinations. His damned imagination was playing tricks. Disappointed beyond belief, he handed his passport, along with his boarding pass, to the immigrant official and waited for clearance.

  "Walker! Wait!"

  There it was again, someone calling his name. He stepped out of the queue, turned and heard footsteps thundering down the hall. Looking back towards check-in, he saw her, a slim figure in an over sized red sweater running towards him.

  "Skye? Skye. Oh, my God, you came."

  "I couldn't let you leave. Not without telling you—" She paused to catch her breath.

  He held her at arm’s length. "What is it you want to tell me?"

  Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she stepped back and lifted her eyes to his. "You’re right. I don't love John. Not in that way. I lied when I told you I'd accepted his proposal."

  "We can't talk here." He let her go.

  "But, what about your flight?"

  "There's another tomorrow and the day after that. Come on, let's go. Where’s your car?"

  "It's probably been towed away by now for being illegally parked."

  "Well, let's go and find out, shall we?" With her small hand held protectively in his, Walker led her through the concourse towards the exit.

  An embarrassing twenty minutes later, having paid a hefty fine and received a stern talking-to, Skye drove away from the terminal building towards the airport hotel, with Walker sitting by her side.

  They found a table in a quiet corner of the lounge and ordered coffee.

  "Better?" Walker asked, as Skye replaced her cup on the saucer.

  "Yes, thank you. I didn't intend for you to miss your plane. It was the traffic—"

  "Don't worry about that now. There's something I want to ask you?"

  She stirred uneasily in her chair. "Yes?"

  "Who is Laura? Is she Michael's child?"

  Skye's head shot up. "She has absolutely nothing to do with Michael! She's my daughter." There seemed no point in hiding the truth. "It was a long time ago—during my second year at university. I stupidly believed that her father loved me, but he obviously didn't, for he walked out of my life the day I told him about the pregnancy. I agonized over what to do, and eventually decided to have a termination only I couldn't go through with it. I started skipping lectures because of the morning sickness, and John found out. He was a post-graduate at the time, and my mentor. Without his support, I would have dropped out of university and would probably be working in the local department store now instead of running my own business."

  "I see. Where is she now?"

  Her faint smile held a touch of sadness. "She was adopted. I felt I had no other choice, and I have regretted it every day of my life. She will be sixteen this year."

  "Which explains your closeness to Ridge and why you set up the Foundation?"

  "Why should a woman be denied an education, a degree, and a career for one stupid mistake? When it became evident the tracking software was a success, I used my share of the profits from sales to set it up. It seemed only right."

  "And Michael?"

  "He's the one thing in my life I regret. I wish I'd never met him. He found the one and only photograph I had of Laura, and put two and two together. He accused me of lying. He kept me locked up in a hotel room for a week, and used the information to blackmail me."

  Walker flinched, her admission cutting him to the core. "Which is why you ran from me, when I stupidly kept you at the cabin?"

  "Yes."

  Suddenly it all made sense to him. She had gone to the cabin to re-build her life after Michael. And when she'd opened her heart and soul to him, he'd thrown it in her face, sending her back to the one man she felt she could rely on—Ridge. And now she had come running after him.

  "Why? Why did you come today?"

  Skye took a deep breath. "I never accepted John's proposal. I said that to hurt you. I shouldn't have done. It was childish and stupid of me to lash out in that way. I wanted you to know."

  Walker reac
hed for her hand. "And that the only reason you came?"

  She shook her head. "Yesterday, you told me that if I married John I would be committing myself to a loveless marriage."

  "Yes, I did."

  "You also said you wanted me. But wanting someone isn't the same as loving someone. And a relationship implies both."

  Walker smiled. "I guess it does."

  Skye was crestfallen. She snatched her hands out of his. "Then I can't come with you."

  "Why ever not?"

  "Because wanting me in your bed isn't enough."

  He sat back, momentarily rebuffed. "Damn it, Skye. I thought…I hoped that by coming here, you'd decided you wanted to be with me."

  "I do. But I guess we have different goals in life."

  "I hoped that if you came back with me and we spent some time together you'd see that what we share only comes around once in a lifetime. When you were comfortable with me again, I was going to take you away for a long weekend up in the mountains, stunning scenery, log fires, romantic dinners for two, I'm sure you get the picture. I was going to ask you to stay, to spend the rest of your life with me. I had it all planned."

  Skye bit her lower lip to stop it trembling.

  Walker leaned forward in his chair, rested his arms on his thighs and stared at his hands. After a while he raised his head, and studied her.

  "I love you, Skye. Every day I saw you, my feelings for you intensified, only I didn't realize it at first being so wrapped up in the investigation. I've loved you since that first day I saw you sat on the dock at the cabin. Once I'd held you in my arms, I couldn't bear to be away from you. I lay in the hospital, and all I could think about was you. You see, I rather thought you loved me too."

  Her heart did a back flip. "You love me? I thought you just wanted me as your lover."

  Walker stood and gathered her into his arms. His kiss was slow and thoughtful. Lifting his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes.

  "I want you as my wife. As the mother of my—our children. Skye, will you marry me?"

  Skye smiled. "How soon can you book another ticket?"

  The smile in Walker’s eyes burned with a sensuous flame.

  "Shall we go and find out?"

  THE END