Harlequin Presents January 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Sheikh's Desert Duty\Nine Months to Redeem Him\Fonseca's Fury\The Russian's Ultimatum (35 page)

As my head hit the pillow, I wept, covering my face, wept with choked sobs until there were no tears left, and I slept.

The phone woke me up. I flung my arm to answer it.

“What is your answer?” My agent's voice pleaded.

Slowly, I sat up in bed. My hair felt smashed against the side of my face, and the tank top I'd been sleeping in barely covered my breasts properly. I felt sore, too. For a moment I smiled, remembering how Edward had made love to me last night.

Then I remembered what had happened afterward. How I'd seen Victoria sneaking into his house for one last fling.

It's nothing. Just one last thing I want to do before I say my marriage vows

Cold despair seeped through me, and I pulled up my comforter almost to my neck.

“Well, Diana?” My agent said with desperate good cheer. “Do you want to be a star?”

I felt awful. Outside, the morning light was clear, the sky a pale blue. It almost never rained in California. Not like Cornwall. I missed the fog and bluster and wild gray storms. They suited me better.

“Diana? The blockbuster in Romania? Are you in?”

“Sure,” I said dully. “Why not?”

His congratulations were so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Then he started talking about terms and conditions and other contract stuff I didn't care about. Hanging up, I pulled on a robe and went downstairs.

“Rough night?” Madison looked up from the kitchen table, where she was now eating a bowl of cornflakes. Then her eyes widened. “Nice ring.”

I looked down at my left hand. “Yeah,” I said dully. “Want it?”

She laughed. “Good one. So you're engaged? I'm so happy for—”

“Edward's cheating on me.”

Madison's mouth fell open. Then she looked dubious. “Are you sure? He seemed so in love with you last December. I mean, I even flirted with him,” she blushed a little, “and he totally froze me out.”

“I'm sure. I saw a woman he knows, his cousin's wife, going into his place late last night. Wearing a sexy dress.”

“There could be all kinds of reasons for that. Geez. Maybe, um...” She frowned, scratching her head. “Hmm.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” I said, grabbing the milk and a bowl.

Madison pressed her lips together. “All right,” she said finally. “Whatever you need. I'm here for you.”

I stared at her incredulously. “What happened to you in Mongolia?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so—different.”

“I grew up, I guess,” she said quietly. “I decided to stop taking other people's stuff. Their careers. Their lovers. It never made me happy. It only made me feel bad about myself.” Her eyes met mine as she whispered, “I'm so sorry for what I did to you.”

I stared at her in shock, trying not to cry.

Then Madison's mouth fell open as she looked past me. In slow motion, I turned around.

Edward stood in the kitchen doorway behind me, dressed in a tuxedo that was molded to his perfect body. He smiled, looking from Madison to me. “Looks like all is forgiven.” His blue eyes glowed with joy. “How soon can you be ready to go?”

My lips parted in a silent gasp. Then snapped shut.

How
dare
he act like this—look at me as if he loved me—when he'd been with another woman last night? And
Victoria,
of all the women on earth! Did he truly have no soul? I couldn't bear to even look him in the face.

Reaching down, I pulled off the enormous diamond ring. My fingers were swollen, so I had to yank hard. I held it out to him coldly.

“I've changed my mind,” I said. “I can't marry you.”

His broad shoulders seemed to flinch. There was a small sound from the back of his throat. He took a single step forward. I heard his low demand of a single word.

“Why.”

He was looking at me as if I'd betrayed him. As if I'd broken his heart. My throat hurt. How could Edward look at me like that, when he was the one who had never loved me?

Lifting my chin, I looked at him, my fists clenched almost violently. “I thought I could marry you without love,” I whispered. Shuddering, I shook my head. “I can't.” It was tantamount to admitting my own love for him. I felt like a pathetic fool. “I want the real thing.”

My arm shook as I continued to hold out the ring.

He stared down at the twenty-carat diamond ring as if it were poison. He seemed to shudder. “Keep it.”

“I can't.” I pushed the ring into his hands. My heart hurt so much I could hardly keep from crying. “It's better this way. You can go back to London, and I'll be going to Romania to star in a movie....” The movie? Who cared about that? What was I even saying? I shook my head desperately. “We'll work out custody. You can visit our baby whenever you want.”

He looked down at the enormous diamond ring, gleaming in his hand.

“Visit?” he said dully.

“Yes, of course, you...” My throat constricted. “I just want you to be free.”

“Free.” He lifted expressionless eyes to mine.

Unable to speak, I nodded.

“I thought I could make you happy.” His voice was like a sigh, the last breath of a dying man. He tried to smile even as I saw a suspicious sheen in his eyes. “But I can't force you to marry me. Of course you deserve love. You deserve everything.”

My heart twisted. I felt as if I were drowning in the haunted sea of his eyes, seeing right through his armor to the anguished soul within. Was it possible I was wrong? Was there any other explanation for what I'd seen?

“What did you do last night?” I cried out.

Staring down at me, he sucked in his breath. Then he grimly shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“Tell me,” I begged. I knew I was making a fool of myself, but I couldn't stop. If there was any chance, any chance at all that I was wrong... “What did you do when I left you last night?”

He stared down at me for a moment in the kitchen. Then he slowly shook his head.

“It's better you don't know,” he said quietly. Leaning forward, he cupped my cheek. “I will always provide for you and the baby, Diana.” Leaning down, he kissed me softly, one last time. “Take care of her. Be happy.”

And he was gone.

I stared after him, gazing at the empty doorway, standing on the cold tile floor wearing a robe, a tank top that didn't quite cover my belly, skimpy sleep shorts and a dumb expression.

My stepfather's lavish, enormous kitchen turned blurry around me and I realized I was crying. I couldn't even feel the tears. All I could think was that I'd been so stupid. I'd let Edward St. Cyr break my heart not once, but twice....

“You are
so stupid,
” Madison said aloud, as if she'd read my mind and agreed wholeheartedly. Wiping my cheeks, I looked down at her sitting at the table. I'd forgotten she was there.

She was shaking her head in disgust. “You gave him up for a movie? No career can ever fill the place in your heart where love should be.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I should know.”

“He doesn't love me,” I whispered.

“Are you insane?” She looked as if she thought I was. “Did you see the way he looked at you? And from everything Dad told me about how he's been waiting on you hand and foot...” She snorted. “No man does that for a woman, unless he's desperately in love. Especially a man like Edward St. Cyr.”

“He doesn't love me,” I repeated, but my voice had turned uncertain. “He just said he didn't.”

My stepsister looked at me incredulously. “You said you deserved a marriage based on love, and he agreed with you. It sounded like you didn't love
him.
”

“What?” I put my hand to my forehead. A tremble was coming up through my body like an earthquake, rising from my feet to my legs to my heart. “Edward knows I love him. He has to know.”

“Did you tell him? Recently, I mean?”

“No, I...” I bit my lip. I'd told him in London, before he'd sent me away. But never since then. Desperately, I shook my head. “He doesn't love me. He wanted to marry me for the baby's sake, that's all.” I looked down at my huge baby bump. “If he'd loved me...”

I sucked in my breath, covering my mouth with my hand.

If Edward had loved me, he would have devoted himself to me, night and day, waiting for me to finish work, letting me choose restaurants, taking me to the doctor, rubbing my feet. Driving watermelon and ice cream to my house at three in the morning. He would have let me choose the house we'd live in. I would have been more important than his career.

His friends.

His country.

I always imagined love to be an action, not a word.
His words in London came back to haunt me.
If I loved someone, I wouldn't say it, I'd show it. I'd take care of her, putting her needs ahead of my own. I'd put my whole soul into making her happy....

A choked sound came from the back of my throat.

What kind of man would do so much for a woman, unless he loved her?

And worse—what kind of woman would not even notice, until it was too late?

“He loves you,” Madison said quietly behind me. “And you threw it away for some stupid role in a movie.” Her lips curled as she shook her head. “When I suggested you to the movie producer, I thought I was making amends for
Moxie McSocksie
....”

“You're the one who suggested me for the part?” I breathed.

“Yeah.” She looked at me accusingly. “I didn't know you'd use the movie as an excuse to ruin your life!”

“You're one to talk,” I said weakly.

“I know.” She held her hands wide. “Look at me, Diana. Totally alone. With the hole in my heart. If a man ever loved me like that, if he saw all my flaws and could love me anyway...” She looked away. “I'd never let him go.”

“He cheated on me,” I whispered.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you still so sure?”

I stared at her. Then I turned and ran up to my bedroom. I dug through my purse until I found an old ratty card. My heart pounded as I dialed a number on my phone.

“Hello?” the woman's voice said.

“Victoria,” I said desperately. “What were you doing with Edward last night?”

“Who's that?” She paused. “Diana?”

“Why were you at his house? Why are you even in California?”

Victoria laughed. “As if you didn't know. But I'm glad you called. I wanted to thank you. I misjudged you, Diana. You are a wonderful, wonderful person. Rupert and I will never forget....”

I gripped the phone. “
What are you talking about?
”

“The shares.” She paused. “Do you really not know?”

“Shares?”

She gave a tinkly laugh. “For weeks, Edward hinted he might sell his shares of St. Cyr Global. Yesterday Rupert finally had to go back to London, but I stayed here with the children. Edward suddenly called my mobile last night, while I was at a friend's party in Santa Monica. I rushed over to sign the contract, before he could change his mind!”

Whatever I'd expected, that hadn't been it.

“What?”

“Oh, dear. Have I let the cat out of the bag? Edward did say he was doing it as a sort of wedding present, to both of you. New life, new career, all that. I gather you're eloping? Let me know where you're registered and I'll send something. We owe you. I promise you're leaving the company in good hands. And Diana?”

“Yes?” I repeated, my voice a gaspy wheeze.

“Welcome to the family!” she said heartily, and hung up.

My legs trembled. I slowly walked down the stairs, feeling like an old woman. Grief and heartache were building inside me, going radioactive, making my body weak, destroying me cell by cell.

“What?” Madison demanded when I stumbled into the kitchen.

“Edward sold all his shares in his family's company,” I choked out. “That was why Victoria was there. That was Edward's big secret. He knew how miserable I was in London. This was his surprise.” My throat caught. “It really was a wedding present.”

“That's good—isn't it?”

I slowly turned to face her.

“He should have told me,” I whispered.

Madison put her arm over my shoulders, as she'd done when we were kids. “He didn't want you to feel guilty.”

Guilty? Edward had just sold his birthright for my sake. He could have manipulated me, pointed out everything he'd sacrificed for me. Instead, he'd set me free. Even though I saw now it was the last thing he'd wanted to do. What did it mean?

I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to stop my ice-cold limbs from shaking.

It meant Edward loved me.

“He loves me,” I whispered, and I burst into tears. Awful sobs racked my body, almost doubling me over. My stepsister hugged me close.

“It'll be all right,” she murmured.

I shook my head. I'd been so determined to never feel heartbreak again, that I'd raced for the exit at the very first scare. Instead of forcing him to tell me the truth about Victoria, I'd thrown his ring back in his face. I thought pride made me do it. It wasn't pride.

It was fear.

“What are you going to do?” Madison said.

I looked up, my heart pounding.

You only have one life, sweetheart
, my mom said before she died.
And it goes faster than you ever imagine. So make it count. Be brave. Follow your heart.

I took a deep breath. “I'm going to be brave,” I whispered. “And follow my heart.”

Madison's face lifted in a smile. “That's what I was hoping you'd say.” Reaching into the pocket of her cutoffs, she tossed me her keys. “Take my car.” Her smile turned to a grin. “It's faster.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE
SKY
WAS
sunny and blue, the air languorous with the scent of lilacs and roses.

Pushing my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose, I clutched my purse and ran toward Madison's red convertible, sandals flapping hard against the driveway, my sundress flying.

I'd tried to call Edward's phone, but there'd been no answer. I'd called the line at the Malibu cottage but there'd been no answer there, either. Why would Edward stay in California now? He wouldn't. Then I'd suddenly had a sick feeling.

I have a private island in the Caribbean. That's where I'd go if I needed to escape a broken heart.... No one can get at you there, Diana. There's no internet, no phones, no way to even get on the island except by my plane.

I'd wanted to run out of the house in my robe and sleeping shorts. Madison had talked me into getting dressed first, in the closest clean thing that still fit me. Twisting my hair into a knot, I jumped into the sports car and drove down the road like a race car driver.

Now, as I drove west toward the coast, the low-lying mist was growing thicker, the air cooler near the ocean. The wind felt fresh and cold against my skin as it blew over the convertible, pulling my hair out of the knot and flying it around me. I pressed on the gas.

I had to reach Edward in time. I had to. Because if his plane took off, I feared it would be a long time before I saw him again....

Red lights glimmered on the cars ahead of me on the highway, forcing me to push on my brakes.

“Come on, come on,” I begged aloud, but the cars ahead just grew slower and slower until they stopped altogether. Was there an accident ahead? Someone filming a movie? A visiting political dignitary? Or was it just fate pulling Edward away from me, just when I'd finally realized what I'd lose?

What was the point in having a fast car just to be stopped in L.A. traffic?

I thought I could make you happy. But I can't force you to marry me. Of course you deserve love. You deserve everything.

Every time Edward had loved anyone, they'd abandoned him. His mother. His father. The woman in Spain. He'd learned not to trust. He'd learned words were cheap. So he'd tried to show me he loved me, in a way more real than words.

How had he found the courage to come to California and humbly tell me he wanted me back? What had it cost him, to try to earn back my love?

Everything, I realized. His heart. His pride. Even his birthright.

All of that—and he'd still let me make the decision. He'd loved me enough to let me go.

Traffic finally picked up speed again. The sun was growing warmer, but I still felt cold, my teeth chattering as I finally arrived at the small nonpublic airport where Edward kept his private jet. He'd been here a month, I realized, and he hadn't used it once. He'd been too busy taking care of me.

Would I be in time?

Driving past the gate, I parked the car helter-skelter in the tiny parking lot, leaving the convertible door open as I ran into the hangar.

No one was there, except for a lone airplane technician looking into the engine of a small Cessna. He straightened. “Can I help you?”

On the other side of the hangar, I heard a loud engine. Through the open garage door, I saw a jet that looked like Edward's accelerating away, headed down the small landing strip.

“Whose plane is that?” I begged.

The mechanic tilted back his baseball cap. “Well now, I'm not rightly allowed to say....”

“Edward St. Cyr,” I choked out. “It's his plane, isn't it? Is he headed to the Caribbean?”

The man frowned. “How the heck did you...”

But I was no longer listening. I took off running, as fast as a heavily pregnant woman could run, across the hangar, straight through the garage door and out onto the tarmac.

“Wait!” I screamed, waving my arms wildly as I ran down the runway, following the plane, trying to catch it though I knew I had no hope. “Edward! Wait!”

The roar of the engine and wind from the propellers swallowed my words, whirling the air around me, pushing me back, making me cough. I felt a sudden pain in my belly and hunched over, at the same moment that the mechanic caught up with me.

“Are you crazy?”

“Edward!” I cried helplessly.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Get off the runway!” The man, who must have thought I was having some kind of pregnancy-related breakdown, half pulled, half carried me back to the hangar. Winded and weak and grief-stricken, I let him.

Edward was gone. I'd lost him forever, because I'd been too much of a coward to fight for him, believe in him, when it counted. I'd let him believe that he could never earn my love, no matter how hard he tried....

Choking out a sob, I covered my face with my hands.

“I love you,” I whispered brokenly, sinking to the concrete floor as I said the words I'd been too scared to say to his face. “I love you, Edward....”

“Diana?”

Hardly daring to believe, I looked up.

Edward stood outside the open garage door. Bright California sunshine burnished his dark hair. His face was in shadow, his posture uncertain. He'd changed from his tuxedo to a T-shirt and jeans, and his hands were in his pockets.

On the airstrip behind him, I saw his jet, with the propellers still slowing down. The engine was loud, a blast of white noise. Was he a miracle? A dream? I wiped my eyes, but he was still there.

“You came back....” I gasped. Rising to my feet, I stumbled across the hangar.

“I saw you,” he breathed, his eyes hungry on mine. “And I was crazy enough to hope....”

Hiccupping a sob, I threw my arms around his shoulders. “You came back!”

“Of course I did.” He held me close, caressing my back. I felt the warmth and strength of his body, smelled the woodsy scent of his cologne. He touched my cheek with a fingertip and said in a voice so tender and raw it twisted my heart, “But you're crying.”

Taking his hand in my own, I pressed it against my cheek, looking up at him with eyes swimming in tears. “I thought I'd lost you.”

I could feel him tremble. Then he exhaled.

“It's all right, Diana,” he said quietly. “You can tell me the truth. If you're trying to be loyal to me for our baby's sake...”

“No!”

“I need you to be happy.” He looked away, dropping his hand to his side. “I told myself I could marry you even if you didn't love me. That I could earn you back, and make you love and trust me again, over time.”

“Edward...”

“But I can't be the man who takes away the light that's inside you. I can't. I can't condemn you to being my wife when you don't love me. When you might love someone else.” Looking away, his jaw tightened as he said, in a voice almost too low for me to hear, “I love you too much for that.”

“You love me,” I breathed.

Edward gave a low, choked laugh. “And for the first time in my life I know what that means.” He looked down at me. “I would do anything for you, Diana. Anything.”

“Even sell your shares of St. Cyr Global to your cousin.”

He looked started. “How did you know?”

“I called Victoria.”

“Why?— How?”

“I saw her going into your house last night.”

“You did?”

I hung my head. “You were acting so weird and secretive. I went back to ask you what was going on. Then I saw her going into your house so late, wearing that dress, and I thought the two of you...”

“What!” He blinked in astonishment. “You thought me and
Victoria
...”

“I was so scared of getting hurt again,” I whispered, feeling ashamed, “I took the first excuse to run. I'm sorry.”

His expression darkened. “When I think of how I treated you in London, I don't blame you.” He stroked my cheek. “I didn't want you to feel guilty, or feel like you were under obligation, because I'd made some kind of sacrifice.... Because you were right. I hated that job. I hated the man it made me. Now I'm free.” He gave me a sudden grin. “In fact, there's nothing to stop me from coming with you to Romania, as I'm currently unemployed....”

Reaching up, I put my hands over his. “I don't want to go.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I thought being an actress was my big dream. But I never wanted to audition.” The corners of my mouth quirked. “There was a reason. Whatever my brain tried to tell me I wanted, my heart stubbornly knew it wanted something else entirely.”

He pulled me closer, running his hands over my face, my hair, my back. “What?”

I thought of my mother, and the life she'd lived. Hannah Maywood Lowe had never been famous or celebrated. People who didn't know her would have thought her quite ordinary, in fact, not special at all. But she'd had a talent for loving people. Her whole life had been about taking care of her friends, her home, her community, and most of all, her family.

“You're my dream,” I whispered. “You and our baby. I want to go home with you. Be with you. Raise our family.” I lifted my gaze to his. “I love you, Edward.”

He breathed in wonder, “You do?”

“I have just one question left to ask you,” I said, smiling through my tears. I took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

Edward staggered back. Then he gave a low shout.

“
Will
I?”

As he took me in his arms, his handsome face no longer looked thuggish or brooding or dark. Joy made him look like the boy he'd once been, like the man I'd always known he could be.

“I love you, Diana Maywood,” he whispered, cradling my cheek. “I'm going to love you for the rest of my life. Starting now....”

Pulling me against his body, he kissed me hard, until I was gasping with joy and need, clutching him to me.

“Um,” I heard the mechanic's awkward mumble across the hangar, “you guys still know I'm here, right?”

* * *

We were married two weeks later in my mother's rose garden. All the people we loved were there, Mrs. MacWhirter and the rest of our closest family and friends. Our wedding was nothing fancy, just a white cake, a simple dress and a minister. No twenty-carat diamond ring this time, either. Seriously, I was afraid I'd put my eye out with that thing. Instead, we gave each other plain gold bands in the double ring ceremony.

It helps to have friends in the entertainment business. A musician friend of mine played the guitar, and a photographer friend took pictures. Madison was my bridesmaid, and Howard walked me down the aisle. As I held a simple bouquet of my mother's favorite roses, in her garden on that beautiful, bright California morning, it was almost as if she were there, too.

It was all perfect. The only guests were people we really loved. Rupert and Victoria sent their congratulations and a very nice blender.

After the ceremony, when we were officially husband and wife, we held an outdoor dinner reception beneath fairy lights. Howard and Madison openly wept, throwing rose petals as Edward and I roared off in a vintage car, before jetting off to Las Vegas for our honeymoon. We spent two lovely nights at the Hermitage, a luxurious casino resort owned by Nikos Stavrakis, a friend of Edward's, happily married himself with six children.

Our luxurious, glamorous hotel suite overlooked all the lights of the Strip, which we mostly ignored because we were too busy discovering the joys of married sex. Holy cow. I had no idea how different it would be. How it feels to possess someone's body when you also possess their heart and soul and name—and they have yours. There's nothing in the world like it.

“I'm just sorry the honeymoon has to end,” I murmured as we left Las Vegas.

Edward looked at me. “Who says it does?”

“What do you mean?”

“We're both unemployed now.” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “We can go anywhere you want. Rio. Tokyo. Venice. Istanbul. After all,” he gave a wicked grin, lifting a dark eyebrow as he said, “we
do
have a jet....”

But there was only one place I wanted to go.

“Take me home,” I said.

“Home?”

I smiled. “Where we first began.”

Hannah Maywood St. Cyr was born a few weeks later in Cornwall, at a modern hospital near Penryth Hall. We named her after my mom. She's the sweetest baby, with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes, just like her father's.

The three of us like to visit California in the winter. We even bought the Malibu cottage as a vacation house. But now we've been married a year, we're already starting to outgrow it.

It's summer again, and Hannah is starting to walk. Cornwall is a sight to behold, all brilliant blue skies and fields of wildflowers. I've started a small theater company in a nearby town, just to be creative and have fun with new friends—because who doesn't love a play? But most of my time has been spent on my project of remodeling Penryth Hall, to let the light in. A dangerous endeavor. Yesterday I smashed my thumb with a hammer. I have no idea what I'm doing. But that's part of the fun.

Edward opened his new business a few months ago, manufacturing athletic gear for adventure sports like skydiving and mountain climbing, renting a old factory in Truro. It's a small company, but rapidly growing, and he loves every day of it. We live a mostly simple life. We got rid of the jet, sold the townhouse in London. Honestly, we didn't need that stuff. We took most of the payout from his St. Cyr Global shares to create a foundation to help children all over the world, whether they need families or homes, water or school or shoes. I think my mom would approve.

We aren't filthy rich anymore, but we have enough, and we're rich in the things that matter most. Love. Hope. Most of all, family.

Madison was nominated for a prestigious award for that little movie she did in Mongolia, which left her unrecognizable as a gaunt slave of Genghis Khan riding bareback across the steppes. She was thrilled, but she's even happier now she's found true love with someone totally outside the industry—a hunky fireman. “He actually
saves lives,
Diana. And he's so funny and makes this amazing lasagna....” My stepsister is a loving aunt to Hannah and often sends pictures and toys. Madison is happy, even with all the minor annoyances of being a movie star.