“The doctors don’t know. They’re performing
tests.”
“But I talked to her a few days ago. She
sounded fine and she didn’t mention that anything was wrong.”
“She puts on a brave front. She doesn’t want
you to worry.”
“Is it cancer?”
“We just got back from a clinic and no--at
least they can’t find a tumor. They can’t find anything wrong with
her. Nothing.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
A clinic. He’d thought his grandfather
merely pulled a disappearing act, and they’d been at a clinic.
“She doesn’t have the will to live. A
grandchild would change that. A wife for you then maybe she’d get
better.”
Solo became very quiet, pensive. There was
so much to think over, so much to decide. He wouldn’t mind giving
his grandmother a grandchild but he’d have to find a wife
first.
He didn’t want her to die. And he understood
his grandfather’s inability to give up. Somehow, he knew if he were
in the same position, he would do everything humanly possible to
save the life of the woman he loved. Including the drastic lengths
Colonel St. John had gone to. He felt instantly selfish.
“Solo,” the old man cleared his throat. “I
know I’ve behaved badly. Forget everything. I’ll go home to Sarah
and tell her you still don’t have anyone.”
“You sure she’s going to die. Have you gone
everywhere--tried everything?”
“It’s useless. She grows more despondent
every day.”
“But--”
“Wasn’t one of those girls suitable?”
Colonel St. John looked like he’d reached
the end of the line. Then the Colonel turned so his back was to him
again.
“They all giggled. Not one of them had a
brain.”
Colonel St. John looked back at him
hopefully. The silence clung to Solo while he battled his
grandfather. It was not the way he’d thought this day would turn
out.
There was only one option left. Without a
break in his stride, Solo St. John barged through the door to
Nyssa’s room.
“You have to marry me.”
Chapter Five
“I’m going for a walk,” Nyssa muttered under
her breath.
Solo St. John had gone certifiably crazy,
either that or he was out to give the Colonel a heart attack. The
last choice she didn’t believe for a minute, because Solo had
always been solicitous to his grandfather’s feelings.
She wished she’d given in to her first
inclination to listen at the door. It would help to know what
brought this sudden, inexplicable proposal, a proposal Solo was
sure to regret as soon as he had time to think.
Never mind that she had wanted to hear those
words since the first second she saw him sauntering into the campus
library. Never mind that until this instant, he’d never thought of
her as anything but a pal.
“You can’t. It’s dark outside and colder
than a witch’s--never mind. Besides, you haven’t answered my
question.”
Solo sounded infuriatingly calm, sounded as
if he asked women, engaged women, to marry him everyday.
“I thought you were joking.”
“Ah, Nyssa. Would I joke about something as
serious as marriage?” His voice was flat, devoid of humor.
Solo’s hands were stuffed in his pockets,
but even in the dim light of the room she could see the balled
fists through the fabric. His eyes focused on her, giving nothing
away, not one hint of his feelings.
“No. Until this minute, I didn’t think you
would joke about marriage.” She rubbed her hands down the length of
her arms in an effort to warm herself. The room temperature
dropping to frigid as Solo continued the dark brooding silence.
“I’m not joking Nyssa. I need a wife.
ASAP.”
“A wife of convenience?”
“Whatever.”
Whatever.
He’d turned his back on her and to her fragile
ego. It seemed he could not bear to look at her.
“I won’t do it.” She told him trying her
best to relax and look at all this from his perspective. Which was
hard because his question had shocked her senseless.
“I don’t deserve you, Nyssa. But God knows I
need you.”
“We’ve been through all that before and your
need doesn’t entail marriage.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
He looked tormented, his eyes sad, his
features withdrawn. He looked as if someone had dropped the weight
of the world on his shoulders. She didn’t know what to say. True,
she wanted to know what had brought all this on, but she didn’t
think anything Solo could say would help.
“It’s grandmother. The Colonel says she’s
dying. They don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
For a second she thought she’d heard wrong,
but the look in Solo’s eyes told her the truth. On the other hand,
she wouldn’t put it past Colonel St. John to pull an underhanded
trick on Solo and lie to him. If he’d meant to push Solo into
marriage, his plan backfired. The last person on earth Solo’s
grandfather would want him marrying was her. In all the years she’d
known Solo’s grandparents, Colonel St. John had never said one nice
thing about her.
“I believe him.” Solo’s voice was a haunted
whisper.
Nyssa’s stomach clenched into tiny knots at
that statement. Solo knew her well enough to read her mind, and he
knew she wouldn’t let him down. But he was wrong on that score. Not
for Solo, not even for the man she’d loved for ten years would she
succumb to this blatant travesty of a marriage proposal. Let him
use one of his willing, eager and able lady friends because she was
engaged to gentle, kind, perfect Robert.
“I don’t believe the Colonel for one
instant.” Yet she had her doubts. Sarah and the Colonel were both
in their early seventies. Things happened.
Nyssa dropped to the bed. Sarah St. John?
Impossible. The last time she’d seen her, she was vibrant, glowing
with life and the will to live. Sara was the only person she could
confide in. She loved Sarah.
She tried to speak. The sound came out as
little puffs of air until she started to cry. Solo was beside her
then, his arms around her, cradling her. He stroked her hair,
calming her until she stopped.
Swamped with guilt, Nyssa wiped the tears
from her eyes. This wasn’t at all right. She should be the one
comforting Solo, yet she didn’t have the strength. Through
everything, the Colonel’s stoic dislike of her, Solo’s indifference
and other less noteworthy incidents, Sarah had boosted her
confidence. Sarah had been there for her with understanding and
warmth when she'd fled home from New York with tears in her eyes
and a sense of failure in her heart.
“I’m sorry.” Her hands trembled as she
pushed her unruly hair from her eyes then shrugged out of his
arms.
“I am, too.”
“It explains a great deal doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “He wasn’t going to mention it,
but he had to. That picture of us together will hit the newsstand
and Robert won’t be the only one to see it.”
“Sarah?”
“Yes. You do know what she’ll think?”
“You could call her with the truth. It would
do her more harm to find out after she saw the picture that it
meant nothing.”
“She needs hope, something to hang onto.
She’s wanted a grandchild for so long now.”
“Suddenly you’ve got the urge to procreate
and I’m the only woman for miles around.”
“It’s not like that.”
At least he had the good grace to color
slightly.
“Nyssa,” he murmured, in that sweet
convincing tone he always used when he needed a favor. He sat down
beside her, traced the top of her hands with his finger. “We could
pretend.” He gave her that helpless look he did so well. “Until she
snapped out of whatever has got her upset. She’s always liked
you.”
“I can’t lie to her. When it all explodes in
her face, she'll be devastated and so will I. It’s better to tell
her the truth now.” She pulled her hands from his.
But he took them back. The warmth
surrounding them, the need she felt for him, tempted her. Oh, God
it did tempt. “We can figure something out.”
“I don’t want to figure anything out. In
case you’ve forgotten about Robert, I haven’t. It’s going to be
hard enough to explain the picture that will surface in the
tabloids, let alone a wedding.”
“Listen--”
“No. Your grandfather will veto this before
the wedding gets off the ground. Remember--he doesn’t think I’m
good enough for you. Even if I was stupid enough to go along with
this hair-brained scheme of yours, he’d never allow it. Never.”
Solo grimaced and she added, “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”
“We’ll see about that. I’ll make sure he
understands this is temporary.” He let out a long agonizing
sigh.
Nyssa felt her heart rip apart. She lifted
her hand from his and touched his cheek. He looked so
desperate.
“We’ve had several adventures, but Solo this
isn’t going to become one more. I can’t go through with a marriage
like this even for Sarah. It goes against everything I believe in.
You’ve been such a good friend to me and--”
He caught her hand. “That’s right. We’re
friends, good friends. Doesn’t that mean anything? If it will give
her hope--” He stopped, gazing down at their intertwined hands.
“Just until she’s better--a few weeks. It will take that long to
get the photographs I need and the data. Who would know? We’re
isolated here in Alaska. Even if the Colonel told Grandmother, she
wouldn’t know the difference. She’d recover and when she was strong
again, we could tell her we pretended for her because we love her
so much.”
“None of that changes how Colonel St. John
feels about me,” Nyssa reminded him. “He’s going to insist you pick
someone else.”
Solo looked toward the door, a stubborn set
to his jaw taking over. “If he wants an engagement, he doesn’t have
a say.”
“Neither do I, it appears. Haven’t you
listened to me?”
He grinned, and the smile was so endearing,
so charming, it snatched her breath away. He did know how to get
what he wanted.
“Every beautiful word. I know you won’t let
me down. You never do. That’s one of the things I like about
you.”
“I don’t like this.” He could charm her into
anything.
“Please. I promise this is the last favor
I’ll ask.”
She wasn’t sure she liked that promise even
though it was what she’d begged him for from the start.
“You won’t regret it. When Grandmother is
healthy again, you’ll be happy you were part of the recovery
prescription. Come on, step out of your peaceful existence and live
dangerously.”
Live dangerously? That was what she was
afraid of. She didn’t want to pretend and she was terrified that
perhaps she’d get caught up in the game and lose her heart.
“I have regrets already,” she told him. “I
don’t lie well at all and--”
“You didn’t have trouble claiming I was your
husband a few minutes ago.”
“That was different.” One Freudian slip and
she was stuck in a quagmire so deep and so sticky she’d never get
out.
“No difference.”
Nyssa didn’t have an answer for Solo. How
could she tell him there was a huge difference? The conversation
ended and Solo rose from the bed. He stared at her long and hard
for what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds. Guilt and
longing swept through her, tearing at her common sense and her
knowledge of right and wrong. This was wrong.
“We’ll tell Robert.”
“No! We can't tell him.
Robert can't be connected to scandal in any way. The media would
get wind of it and he'd lose his bid for re-election in the fall.
His career in politics was the most important part of his
life."
So where does that leave
me?
“With the papers documenting everything my
family does, he’ll find out. Sooner or later he’ll find out.”
“He can’t.”
“Telling him is the right way. Trust
me.”
“No. I’d rather take my chances. If you tell
him, he’ll fly here. I know him.”
“That could prove interesting.”
“You don’t want to know how
interesting.”
“Oh, come on. You’re engaged to old
Robert.”
Nyssa choked. “I don’t want to hurt him. I
shouldn’t be parading around as something I’m not, even though it’s
for Sarah. If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t you be
concerned?”
For her, Solo was adventure, reckless
excitement and passion, while Robert was the epitome of a
conservative banker, never challenged her emotions or pushed her
past her comfort zone. She could live the rest of her life with
Robert and she’d bet he’d never lose his temper. But Solo--what
would happen if she gave in and kissed him again, if she told him
he knew how to flip her switches. That she knew they could have hot
sex together.