Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
She glanced back at Gus’s bruised face. “The baby’s gone. If I lose you, too, I’m done… I’m not going out fighting, there’s going to be no great show of courage. I’m just going to head up to that bed and lie down and let my cancer take me.”
Beep-beep-beep…
The heart monitor kept a steady metronome that, instead of reassuring her, just made her anxious for the moment it missed a beat. Like her losing her baby, surely that was going to be the outcome.
“Just so you know,” she murmured, “my lawyer insisted I put a reversion clause in that contract giving you Vita. So if you die, she comes back to me. And when I die… she’s going to disappear with me.”
Like the baby. A spark of life, and then gone.
It was a crazy idea anyway. Curing cancer.
What the hell had they been thinking.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say it all out loud once.” She laughed in a short burst. “Deathbed confession, really. I love you, Gus. You’re the best man I ever met. And in another life, in another time… I really think we would have been great together.”
* * *
Up in the first-floor guest suite, Lydia stood in the shower, her head back, the hot jets of water spearing through her hair, the suds of her shampoo running down her spine and puddling on the tile under her feet. On a lot of levels, it seemed inconceivable that she was doing something as normal as having a wash.
She also felt like it was an impermissible self-indulgence.
There was this need to be clean, however… as if soaping herself up and having a good rinse could somehow wipe away the images she saw on the backs of her eyelids every time she blinked. Or at least maybe the cleansing would dim the memory of what Gus had looked like, bloodied, bleeding, going into cardiac arrest, on the black-and-white marble floor of the foyer.
The amnesia strategy wasn’t working, unfortunately. But her aching body was loosening up so she lingered in the neither-here-nor-there of the warmth and the steam and the scents of sweet-smelling products that were familiar to her.
Which were nice things to focus on. As opposed to whether Gus would live, and how Daniel was doing… and the light she had seen around Blade—
Cranking the faucet off with a jerk, she stepped out.
“Towel?” Daniel said as he held one out.
“Thank you.”
Instead of giving the terrycloth to her, he stepped forward and wrapped her up, not just in the softness, but in his arms. And what do you know. As she leaned into him, she didn’t care about drying off.
This time, as she closed her eyes and breathed in deep, she saw nothing. She was too busy feeling him.
“I need to stop thinking,” she whispered. “I really… want to be with you. Make love to me?”
“Always.”
Tucking the towel around her, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. They hadn’t turned the lamps or the overhead fixture on, and with the glow from the bath, things were almost candlelit. When they got to the bed, he unwrapped her body and patted the duvet.
“My hair is all wet.”
“And I’m going to take care of that.”
As she sat down, she looked up at him. His expression was rapt as he brought the towel to her head and began to massage her still-dripping waves. The motion was hypnotic and she swayed as his big hands went back and forth, back and forth, her breasts following the movement, the tightening tips brushing against the waistband of his jeans.
Thinking of what was behind his fly, she ached for what he once had, but she couldn’t let that sadness take over.
Here and now, she reminded herself. This was what they had.
And it was good.
Daniel dropped the towel to the floor and stared down at her. He had a slight smile to his mouth, one that was anticipation wrapped up in a tilt to the lips, and as he bent to kiss her on the forehead, she put her hands on his hips.
“It’s okay to stop thinking.” He brushed his fingers through her damp hair, capturing it and twisting the weight into a rope that he laid down on her spine. “The crisis will be there in the morning. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about what happens to him.”
“You always know what to say to me, don’t you.”
Holding on to the bedside table for balance, he lowered himself to his knees. “Close your eyes.”
She followed the command, and took a deep breath.
“When was the last time I told you how beautiful you are?”
Lydia laughed a little and looked at him again. “It’s pretty often. You spoil me.”
“Just speaking my truth. Now shut those eyes… and feel me.”
The first thing she was rewarded with was a brush on her cheek. His fingertip. And then it traveled slowly to her jaw and followed around to her lower lip. Back and forth the caress went, as a kiss would, until her mouth parted when she gasped—and as if she’d given him the response he’d been waiting for, the touch continued on. Now… it was on the side of her throat, moving to her collarbone. Oh, God, she knew where he was heading and her nipples peaked even further—