Paradise Found (18 page)

“Now comes the hardest part,” Dr. Myers said, his gruff voice softening. “You wait.”

***

Matt stepped out of the office, looking much the way he had when he'd entered it over an hour ago. Stoic. Unreadable. Grim. Deep lines bracketed both sides of his mouth. Had he received bad news? Had the doctor squelched his last hope to see again?

She guided him to the elevator, resting her hand in the crook of his arm. She wished he'd worn a long-sleeved shirt. Then she wouldn't have to touch his bare skin and be tormented with what had been. For a short space in time, they had connected and it had been a beautiful, glorious glimpse of heaven. Who would have believed that she, who hadn't been on a date since Brian left, with the exception of dinner meetings and the occasional social function where an escort was required, would fall headfirst for a man she'd once half detested? The myth of Matthew Brandon had turned out to be far different from the flesh and blood man—him she hadn't been able to resist.

As they entered the elevator, she pushed the lobby button and glanced at the man who'd given her joy mixed with equal torment. He was staring straight ahead. Cold. Silent. Rigid. As though she weren't there. Sara sucked in a breath and faced him. “What did the doctor say?”

There was a long expanse of silence, so long she thought he might ignore the question, altogether. When he did speak his words held no emotion. “He said everything seems to be healed. With time and patience, I'll see again.”

Tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat but she pushed past them. “I'm very happy for you.”

And so sad for us
, she wanted to add.
So sad we couldn't find a common ground to work through our differences. So sad that soon I'll be less than a faint memory and you won't ache for me the way I'll ache for you.
She swiped at her tears.

“You've achieved your mission, Sara. And then some. You should be proud. I'll be back to my old self in no time.” He paused. “And you'll be back in Pittsburgh.”

Had his voice wavered when he mentioned Pittsburgh? Had the harsh lines around his mouth softened? His next words made her certain she'd only imagined it.

“In six months' time, we'll have our lives back, just like they were before,” he said, enunciating the last word.

Before…before they met…before they touched…before they loved...

Did he really believe that? Could he erase her as if what they shared had never happened? Of course he could. He was Matt Brandon, King of the Uncommitted. What a fool she'd been. What a complete, ridiculous fool. She had to leave before there was nothing left but the tattered shreds of a woman who had once again chosen the wrong man to love.

Matt paced the bedroom, one foot in front of the other, like he'd done for the past, what was it, hour or more? He had no idea what time it was. At midnight, disgusted with himself and his cowardice, he'd yanked his watch off and thrown it on the bed.

He should go to her and apologize for being such an ass these past few days. He could do that, couldn't he? And then he could say he'd treated her like dirt because he'd been so preoccupied with seeing Dr. Myers. A half truth, but a nice segue into what he really wanted to tell her.

The real truth.

He'd been miserable since their damned argument. And he missed her. Not just in bed, but in the routine course of every day. Silly things like fixing her coffee, a drop of cream with a hint of sugar, listening to her ooohh and aaahhh over Rosa's fried ice cream, feeling the strength of her fingers laced through his. But Sara would never guess that, not after the way he'd been treating her—like week-old leftovers headed for the garbage disposal.

If she'd had any doubt, he'd taken care of that when he slammed her in the elevator.
In six months' time, we'll have our lives back, just like they were before.
Who the hell was he kidding? His life would never be the same. Not since Sara.

And not without Sara.

He'd said the words to make her bleed, just as he was doing. Only, instead of giving him even a small modicum of satisfaction, it had made him feel worse, more the monster. Did she really believe he could go on as though she'd never happened? He hoped to God not.

He plowed his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling in silent supplication. Light glared into his eyes. He blinked them shut. Damn, but he should be thrilled that brightness sliced into his black night several times a day. It was a reminder that one day soon he'd see much more than fuzzy blurs and flashing lights. He'd see everything with precision and clarity.

If only he could see his life that way, then he'd make the right decisions. For a man on the brink of regaining his sight, he'd never felt so out of focus, like he was swimming underwater with his eyes open.

Only one certainty pushed through the murky depths of his heart. He had needed Sara in the beginning to be his eyes, to give him courage and direction, to see without sight. But that was all changing, because soon he'd have his vision back and then he'd have to admit he still needed her. Before he could analyze his actions or the ramifications of them, he threw on a pair of shorts and headed toward the door.

***

The soft knock roused Sara from her sleep. Only one person would be at her bedroom door in the middle of the night. Maybe she should just tell him to go away.

“Sara?” Matt’s low voice reached her, stroked her.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, flicked the bedside lamp on and padded to the door. What could he possibly have to say that could make any difference? I'm sorry? That wasn't a big phrase in his vocabulary. Or had he thought of another way to make her bleed and it was so good he couldn't wait until morning? Hadn't he done enough damage already? Hadn't he made certain he'd strangled the last bit of breath from their relationship?

“Sara?” The insistence in his voice made him sound almost desperate. Matt Brandon desperate? Hardly.

She grabbed the knob and opened the door.

“What do you want?” She tried to keep her voice steady but that proved especially challenging with him standing in front of her, bare-chested, hair rumpled from sleep or agitated fingers. But it was the look of vulnerability that got her. He stood there, hands at his sides, as if in defeat and said, “I'm tired of fighting.”

Her heart jumped. She beat it down. “So am I.”

He moved forward, reached out a hand, and stroked her cheek. “God, but I've missed you.”

“And I've missed you.” The words were out before she could stop them.

He reached for her then, took her in his strong arms, and found her mouth. Their kiss spoke of need and longing. And forgiveness. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, flattened her body against his, feeling the beauty and power of the man. She needed to be with him one last time.

Matt took another step into the room and closed the door behind him.

“I've got to be inside you,” he rasped. “It's been too long.”

She answered him with a long, slow kiss. They began unbuttoning and removing clothing as they worked their way across the room. When they finally reached the bed, Matt eased her onto it and reached for the nightstand drawer. He pulled it open and dug around for a condom. Desire coursed through her as he ripped open the foil packet and fitted himself.

Matt plunged into her, filling her. She moved with him, pulled him closer. There were no sweet whispered endearments, no hushed murmurings. Only heat and sweat and need, wrapped in groans of pleasure. And in between it all, swirling in the final moments of release, there was forgiveness.

***

Sara closed the latch on the suitcase and glanced at the bed. Matt was on his stomach, head turned to the side, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other flung out over an empty space of sheet. She'd been in that space an hour ago…

He would call her a coward when he discovered she was gone. He might be right, but she had to get away before she traded self-respect and self-esteem for long nights of pleasure. Again. What had it proved? That she couldn't resist him? Not now? Not ever?

There had been no words, no attempt to work things through, or find a common ground. And certainly, no promise or commitment. She'd allowed him to berate her, ignore her, and then, when he felt so inclined, bed her. But Matt wasn't the only one at fault. He'd only had to whisper a few words, brush his fingers over her skin, and she was shedding her clothes and her self-respect.

He'd needed her, maybe he'd even really cared about her in his own way, but her usefulness was short-lived. Another month, maybe three. It wouldn't be long before he would sit in Dodger Stadium and watch fly balls zoom by, gaze at the sunset from Dana Point, look in the mirror. See. Really see. And he wouldn't need a junior typist to transcribe his book. He could do it all himself. Matt wouldn't need her at all.

And when he tired of her? What then? When his sight returned and the women started flocking around him again? Adam had already deflected six phone calls from reporters this afternoon inquiring about Matt's visit to Dr. Myers. How had they found out so quickly? Two of the calls claimed Gabrielle Jontue was flying back from Greece to be with him. Matt didn't seem interested in the beautiful model anymore, but what about the next one? And the next?

What would happen when those silver eyes saw her for the first time? Really saw her. Would he be disappointed? Could he stay interested in
ordinary
? Doubtful. He might be nice to her, even sympathetic, but then what? Then he'd wish her back to Pittsburgh.

Well, she'd save him the trouble. There was an envelope on the nightstand with his name on it—brief, impersonal, informing him that with Dr. Myers's good news, her assignment was complete. She thanked him for his hospitality and asked him to say good-bye to Adam, Rex, and Rosa. That was it. Her association with Matthew Brandon culminating in five short sentences.

Sara grabbed her suitcase and briefcase. She'd send for the rest later, the ceramic butterfly mobile, the iridescent blue and green globe, the seashell picture frame. Or maybe she wouldn't. The fewer reminders of this trip the better. Tangible objects could be disposed of, left behind, or put in a drawer. But what about the memories? The slow half smile, the lingering touch, the deep voice? How would she erase those from her mind, strip them from her heart, tear them from her soul?

She hurried across the room and opened the door, stepping into the dark hallway before she changed her mind. A tiny finger of light stretched toward her from the kitchen. Thank goodness Rosa always left the stove light on. It made fleeing in the night so much easier. She'd have to call a cab, then she'd probably spend the better part of the next several hours trying to get a flight back to Pittsburgh.

“Going somewhere?”

Sara whirled around. “Rex? What are you doing up?”

He pointed to the fridge. “Couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd grab a piece of Rosa's cherry pie.” He glanced at her suitcases and frowned. “What's going on?”

She looked down, avoiding his gaze. “I'm going home.”

“Now? At three o'clock in the morning?”

“There's never going to be a good time.”

“I don't understand,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Why are you running away?”

“My job's done. And I am not running away.” She took in a deep breath and added, “I'm walking. Very fast.”

“But, you two are made for each other.”

Sara shook her head. “No. We're as different as night and day.”

“That's what makes you so right for each other. Contrast. Light and dark. Like taking a picture. Who would want something that blended into itself, so you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began?”

“It's not that simple.” Rex was a sweetheart, but he was way off base here.

“You love each other,” he said, shrugging his big shoulders. “What's simpler than that?”

“Rex. Please. That word has never been mentioned between us. Besides, he doesn't want commitment. Matt likes things the way they are between us.” Her voice wavered. “I can't live that way. Not forever. And he doesn't believe in forevers.”

“He could change.”

“Why should he? He's going to have his sight back. Then he can pick up right where he left off last November. Do you really think he's going to want me here, expecting love, trust, and fidelity, when he can have ten women who'll take him with no demands?”

Rex looked at her, long and hard. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

“No.” She dashed the spark of hope in her heart and turned so he would not see her pain. “I've got to go. I was just getting ready to call a cab.”

“Don't call a cab,” he said. “If you really want to go, I'll take you.”

“Thank you.”

“I just wish you'd give him a chance.”

“Look,” she said, facing him. “If by some outside chance I'm wrong and Matt can't live without me, he knows where to find me.”

“But why can't you just wait? At least until you've talked to him.”

“Trust me, I'm making it easy on him.” She forced a smile. “In six months' time, he won't remember my name.”

***

Matt rolled over, the smell of orange and lemons filling his senses.
Sara.
He'd missed that the last few nights. Missed her smell, her touch, her voice. Missed everything. Last night, she’d made love to him with such fierceness, almost as though it were their last time.

It was anything but that, and it was time to tell her.

Time to say the words and take the risk. Without her, his life and his heart were empty. She was the only one who could fill it. He needed her. He
loved
her, had for a long time, even though he'd been too thick-headed to realize it before last night. He opened his eyes, squinting at the blurred space in front of him. It was empty.

“Sara?” No answer. She was probably in the kitchen talking to Rosa. Well, he'd just go find her there. Flinging back the covers, Matt reached for his shorts, humming a little tune under his breath. Life was good and he was the luckiest man in the world. He couldn't wait to find Sara so he could tell her he loved her and wanted her at his side. Forever. As his wife.

Ten minutes later, Matt left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

“Hi, Matt.”

“Adam? Why aren't you at work?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

His voice sounded strained and unnatural. “Sure,” Matt said, heading toward the coffee pot “Just give me a minute.” He reached for his cup and opened the carafe, pouring with great care. “Where's Sara?”

A sniffling sound in the corner got his attention. It grew louder, ending on a hiccup. “So sad.”

“Rosa? What's the matter? Why are you crying?” He started moving toward the crying gray shape at the end of the table, but Adam put a hand on his arm.

“She's fine. Just a little upset. I have to talk to you.”

Matt pushed his hand away. “Rosa? Are you okay?”

She sniffed. “Yes. Go.” The clicking of rosary beads mingled with her quiet sobs.

“Come on, Matt.” There was an edge to Adam's voice this time.

“Okay, okay.”

“I'll meet you on the patio in a minute,” Adam said. “I have to get something first.”

“Fine.” The sun's rays greeted him as he stepped onto the patio. Maybe Sara was in the hot tub. “Sara?”

“She's not there,” Adam said from behind him.

“Where is she?”

There was a long pause, but no response.

“It’s not a trick question. Where is she?”

“Gone. Back to Pittsburgh.”

“Gone?” She couldn't be gone. He loved her. He was going to commit, for God's sake.
He wanted to marry her.

“She's gone, Matt.” Adam paused. “I'm sorry. She left you a note.”

His chest felt like a three hundred pound weight was sitting square in the middle of it. “Read it.”

“‘Matt, Dr. Myers's prognosis is excellent. Soon you'll be seeing again. I think it's time to end this assignment and get back to the clients who really need me. Thank you for your generous hospitality. Please say good-bye to Adam, Rex, and Rosa. Sincerely, Sara.’”

“Sincerely? She signed it that way?”

“She loves you,” Adam said. “But she's a proud woman. If you love her, go after her. Bring her back.”

“Sincerely?”

“She's hurt. Go after her.”

How could she do such a thing? A goddamn note was all she left
? Damn her
. “Looks like she's made her choice.”

“No she hasn't. She's giving you the choice.”

“She left me.” He let out a hollow laugh. “The only woman I ever really wanted, and she left me.”

“So go bring her back. Convince her she needs you. Tell her you love her and want to marry her.”