"Which made you pretty damn alone too."
"I don't think he could help it. Some people can't. I wanted him to love me, but maybe there was something lacking in him." She moistened her lips. "Maybe he didn't have the aptitude. You know, like I can't cook?"
His only answer was the tightening of his hand holding hers.
"I still can't believe this. He never thought he could be hurt. He said he had nine lives.. . ."
They pulled up in front of the hospital a short time later. "Dan, go see Harry Spaulding and set up those arrangements I told you about and then come right back to the hospital," Gabe said as he helped her out of the car. His grip was a warm support beneath her elbow as they made their way through the lobby to the bank of elevators. "It's room seven-twelve. We'll have to get clearance at the nurses' station before you'll be allowed in."
A few minutes later they were on the seventh floor and moving down the hall toward the nurses' station.
A plump, dark-haired nurse checked the chart. "Your name's on the list, but I'll have to see identification."
"How is he?" Ronnie asked.
"He's unconscious." The nurse handed back their identification. "You'll have to ask the doctor for any further information. He'll be making his rounds in another hour. Follow me." She got up and moved quickly down the corridor on silent white-shod feet.
A uniformed guard stopped them at the door, but at the nurse's nod he permitted Ronnie and Gabe to enter the room.
The room looked like all hospital rooms, sterile and pristine and without character. The scent was also the same—antiseptic and astringent. Only the man lying in the white-sheeted bed was an anomaly. Evan didn't belong here.
He shouldn't be in a hospital; he had nine lives.
"Evan?" she whispered.
He was going to die.
The certainty came to her as she looked at him. She had not believed it until this moment, but she had seen men on the verge of death before and Evan was very close.
Gabe could see it too. His hand tightened on her arm as he felt the shiver that went through her. "Okay?"
She nodded.
He got her the only visitors' chair in the room and set it beside the bed. "Sit down. I'll go get another chair for myself from the nurse."
"No, don't stay. I'll be all right." She sat down, her gaze on Evan's pale face. "Leave me alone with him."
"Are you sure?"
"He's never met you. You're a stranger to him. He was surrounded by strangers all of his life. I don't want him to—" She broke off and steadied her voice. "Wait for me outside."
He nodded and left the room.
She kept vigil all night and was vaguely conscious of Gabe bringing her a pillow, a cup of coffee, sometimes just standing beside her for a moment, his hand on her shoulder to let her know he was there.
It was close to four in the morning when he appeared again at her elbow. "The story has broken. The corridor is a mob scene of reporters." He paused. "And Pilsner's here."
She couldn't worry about Pilsner now. "We expected it, didn't we?"
He nodded. "There's no way I'm going to let him in here, but I thought you ought to know." He looked at Evan's still form. "I didn't want it to come as a shock when you left the room."
He meant when Evan died.
"Has he regained consciousness at all?" Gabe asked.
She shook her head.
"I spoke to the doctor. He may not."
"I don't care. No one is certain how much awareness people have in a coma. He could know I'm here."
Gabe nodded and left the room
Evan stirred a little before dawn. His lids fluttered and then slowly opened and focused on her face. For a moment she thought he didn't recognize her, but then he said, "Mushy. . . always . . . were."
"You told me it was one of my failings."
His smile was the sardonic one she knew so well. "Came running . . . to my .. . deathbed."
He knew he was going to die. She wouldn't insult him by denying it. She nodded jerkily.
"I. . . wouldn't have come to . . . yours."
She swallowed. "I think you would."
He looked at her and a flicker of expression crossed his face. "Maybe ..."
He lapsed back into unconsciousness and died a few minutes later.
Maybe.
She sat there looking at him. "You would have come, Evan," she whispered fiercely. "Why couldn't you say it? Blast you, I know you would have come."
The tears she had held back were suddenly flowing down her cheeks as she stood up and walked stiffly to the door.
Gabe.
She had to get to Gabe.
NINE
Gabe came to her the minute she appeared in the hall. He took one look at her tear-stained face and enveloped her in his arms. Lord, how she needed him now. Warmth. Safety. Life.
"He's gone?" he asked in a low voice.
She nodded. "A few minutes ago. I can't stop crying. Evan would have hated it. ..." She was vaguely conscious that the hall was full of people, cameras, lights. She looked over Gabe's shoulder and saw Pilsner standing across the corridor, a uniformed guard by his side. She smiled crookedly. "Hello, Mr. Pilsner. Sorry to keep you waiting."
He nodded. "I'm genuinely sorry that I have to intrude on such an unhappy occasion." He wasn't being untruthful; he was genuinely sympathetic, but it wouldn't keep him from doing what he believed was right.
Gabe thrust a handkerchief into her hand. "Go to the rest room and wash your face with cold water. It will make you feel better. I'll go to the nurses' station and make the arrangements for Evan."
"Cremation," she said. "He hated funerals."
"Let me handle it." He turned her around and gave her a push down the hall. "It's the last door before you reach the turn in the corridor. I'll be here when you get back." He turned to stare challengingly at Pilsner. "I assume that's all right with you?" he asked.
Pilsner hesitated and then nodded to the guard. "Wait outside for her. Keep those reporters out of there and off her back."
That was nice of him, she thought dully as she entered the rest room. He was probably a very kind man when his job wasn't involved, the home type who barbecued for the wife and kids every weekend.
The bathroom was deserted, thank heavens. She passed a row of stalls with half-open doors and stopped at the basins at the end of the room. The mirrors reflected an outer image that looked as bad as she felt inside—tousled hair and red swollen eyes, tear-streaked cheeks. Dammit, why couldn't she stop crying? She started splashing cold water on her face.
"Ronnie."
She jumped and whirled to see a man coming out of one of the stalls. "Dan!"
"Come on. We haven't got much time." He gestured to an oak door to the left of the basins. "That door connects with the men's rest room. I broke the lock earlier."
"You want me to go into the men's room?"
"The entrance to the men's room is around the corner of the corridor." He pushed her through the door and slammed it behind them, then pulled her past a row of urinals. "Look, I know you're in shock, but just let me lead you. Okay?"
She wasn't capable of doing anything else at the moment.
He glanced cautiously out the door into the corridor and then said, "Come on." He dragged her at a half run down the corridor toward the emergency exit and down the steps to the sixth floor. "We'll take the elevator from this floor. It's faster than the stairs." As he ushered her into the elevator he said. "There's a car waiting outside to take us to the helicopter."
"You planned all this?"
"Gabe planned it. There was no way he was going to let Pilsner grab you." He made a face. "Though I take credit for spending two very uncomfortable hours in that toilet stall ducking a stream of ladies while I was waiting for you to appear."
The elevator doors opened and he ushered her quickly through the lobby to the car waiting at the curb.
"Gabe figures it will be at least fifteen minutes before they send someone i
n to check on you." He glanced at his watch. "That gives us ten to get out of the city." He motioned to the driver to go as he got into the car beside her. "Gabe will stall them as long as he can, but when Pilsner starts getting nervous, he'll slip away." He stared at her pale face. "Are you taking any of this in?"
She nodded. "How will Gabe get to the helicopter?"
"There's another car around the corner and two blocks down the street. We were afraid the timing would be too close for him to have it wait in front of the hospital. He didn't want to be followed to the helicopter." He smiled gently. "Don't worry, we've got it all covered. You'll be back in Tanadahl in no time and Pilsner will be wiping egg off his face."
Gabe arrived at the helicopter thirty minutes after Dan and Ronnie, and by that time she had emerged from her emotional stupor enough to be worried at the delay and very relieved at his appearance.
"How did it go?" Dan asked as Gabe climbed into the helicopter.
"I had no trouble evading Pilsner, but I had to run six blocks north and double back to get away from the reporters. Let's get out of here." As the helicopter lifted off Gabe asked Ronnie, "How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure. Everything has happened so fast."
"I had to get you out of there."
"I know. It's just..." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Will you get into trouble?"
"We'll have to see. Pilsner wasn't pleased. We'll face that when we have to."
"I never meant to get you into trouble. I just had to see Evan."
"One good rescue deserves another, and any risk I ran was a drop in the bucket compared to what you did in Said Ababa." He loosened her seat belt and pulled her sideways to rest against his shoulder. "Try to sleep until we get back to Tanadahl."
She doubted if she could sleep, but she relaxed against him. She could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. He was all the comfort she had never had, the emotional safety Evan had never given her. He was an anchor that would hold steady through the years. Yet he was also excitement, passion, humor, and challenge. She could have it all.
If she was selfish enough to take it at his expense.
Evan had been that selfish. He had taken and never given. Not even in that last moment.. .
"Come on." Gabe lifted her out of the helicopter and half carried her across the courtyard. "You're out on your feet. Let's get you to bed."
"I don't want to be like him, Gabe," she murmured as she stumbled down the corridor toward their bedroom. "He always thought that he'd make a big stake that would set him up for life, the big bonanza. But he would still have been alone. Because he just took and never gave back."
He was quickly undressing her. "You're not like him."
"I hope not. I don't want to be alone."
"You'll never be alone." He slipped her beneath the sheets and lay down beside her, holding her. "I'll always be here."
"You didn't undress."
"Later." He brushed her hair back from her forehead. "I just want to hold you."
She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to hold her and never, never let her go. . ..
When Ronnie awoke, Gabe was gone. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and found she had slept for over twelve hours. It didn't surprise her. She had felt wounded both emotionally and bodily as she lay in Gabe's arms last night. She had not gone to sleep for a long time and had gradually felt the desolation seep out of her. Strange how Gabe could heal her, rid her of fear and unhappiness just by being there. He had first accomplished that magic in Mekhit, and since he had come back into her life, it had begun happening again.
She slowly got up and went to the bathroom. She felt sad and a little empty, but the shock of Evan's death was gone, leaving only the resolution she had made before she went to sleep last night.
After showering and dressing she went in search of Gabe.
Dan was sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. "Hi, you look better."
"I feel better. Where's Gabe?"
"I took him to Marasef to see the sheikh. He sent me back to take care of you." Dan grinned. "He didn't want you to starve to death. Would you like breakfast or lunch?"
"Just toast and coffee. Even I can make that."
"Sit down. I think you can stand a little pampering after what you went through yesterday."
"I put you and Gabe through a lot too," she said soberly. "I'm sorry, Dan. It was something I had to do."
"I know." He filled the coffeemaker. "Actually, it was kind of exciting. I haven't had that kind of action since I was a reporter covering Beirut."
"Will you get into trouble with the authorities?"
"Gabe says no." He put bread in the toaster. "You should see the coverage we got from your great escape. You've become a folk heroine. Pilsner's definitely shown in a bad light."
"But he won't give up." Pilsner had felt genuine sympathy for her at Belsen, but had not shifted in determination. This humiliation would only reinforce it. "He'll never give up."
Dan nodded. "He returned to Sedikhan last night. He's staying at a hotel in Marasef and trying to convince the sheikh to make an exception to his extradition policy and surrender you."
"What are the chances?"
"Not good. The sheikh and Gabe are good friends and His Majesty has an intense dislike of being pressured."
She made a face. "Cripes, I'm an international incident."
"Yep." He set the coffee and toast in front of her. "And I've never known a more interesting one," he said gently. "It's going to be fine, Ronnie."
"Yeah, sure," Ronnie said. "Except that Pilsner's been made to look foolish and he wants my head on a platter." It couldn't go on. The problems she had brought to Gabe were growing by leaps and bounds. "When is Gabe due back?"
"He said to tell you he'd be back in a few hours. Dave's flying him here in the helicopter." Dan looked at his watch. "Anytime now."
She finished the coffee and toast and stood up. "When he gets here, will you tell Dave to wait before he flies back to Marasef?"
Dan frowned. "Wait for what?"
"For me." She started toward the door. "I'm going with him."
She was almost finished packing when Gabe strode into the bedroom.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm leaving. What does it look like?" She went to the closet, got her leather jacket, and tossed it on the bed beside the open suitcase. "It's over. Kaput."
He stood in the doorway and watched her as she threw a pair of jeans into the suitcase. "You're going to a great deal of trouble for nothing. I'm not going to let you go."
"You have no choice in the matter. It's my decision. Our relationship is history."
"Why?"
"Because that's the way I want it."
"Bull. Where are you going? You don't have a passport."
"I have contacts. I can buy another passport on the black market."
"Not an American passport. You're too hot to handle."
"Then I'll buy a French or a Spanish or—" Her voice broke and she had to wait a minute before she could speak again. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm not your responsibility."
"You are my responsibility," he said as he crossed the room toward her. "Just as I'm yours. That's the way it goes when you love someone."
"But I don't love you. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't—"
His hand covered her lips. "Hush. I'm getting pretty tired of that song and dance. You do love me. You're absolutely crazy about me, and if we're lucky, we're going to spend the next fifty years together."
"Lucky?" she repeated bitterly as she jerked away and slammed the suitcase shut. "Where are we going to spend those years? You'd grow to hate me. You don't know what it's like trying to survive on the fringe. I've lived there all my life and I'm not going to make you live there too."
"Because you love me too much?" Gabe asked softly.
She whirled to face him. "All right, because I love you too much," she
said fiercely. "I love you! Are you satisfied?"
"No, I'd prefer for you to say it with a modicum of tenderness, but it will do for now."
"It doesn't make any difference if I love you or not. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. You can file for a divorce and I'll—"
"No divorce. If you file, I'll fight it."
"Why?" she asked in despair. "Do you know what life would be like for you? I can't ever go back to America. That's where your roots are, your business holdings, your friends."
"I'm not saying I won't miss it." His hands cupped her shoulders. "But I'd miss you more. I won't give you up, Ronnie."
"You're going to have to."
He shook his head. "You've been so concerned with saving me from this dreaded 'fringe' that you've never bothered to consult me. You found that life terrible because you were made to feel so alone. We'll be together from now on."
Together. The word was as beautiful as a beacon in a storm. "You've never been there. You don't know."
"I know what you're like. I know what our life has been like this past week."
"Life can't always be a honeymoon."
"Who says? There's no reason why it can't if we work at it." He framed her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. "Listen, Ronnie, I've found something I've never had before. What I'm giving up is nothing to what I'm gaining."
Dear God, she loved him. He was saying the words she most wanted to hear and it was terribly painful to keep putting obstacles in his path. "It wouldn't work. Long-distance relationships never do. You'd have to spend three quarters of your time in the States attending to your business."
"I'd transfer the central office here."
"I'd get bored just staying here in Tanadahl and being a hausfrau. I'd turn into something you wouldn't like."
"Who wants you to be a hausfrau? We'll work it out. I talked to the sheikh this morning and he consented to grant you Sedikhan citizenship. That means you'll be eligible to receive a Sedikhan passport."
"A legal passport?" she asked, stunned.
"Very legal in the international community and backed by a heck of a lot of clout. We'd live here at Tanadahl and you'd be free to travel to pursue your career."
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