The Color of Love (15 page)

“Would you happen to know Donatella Agnelli?”
Emily asked.

“Donatella? Oh,” Aud said, “did she show up
at the agency already?” She gave a short laugh. “That sounds like Donatella.
She doesn’t waste time.”

Emily stiffened. “Yes, she’s there. We
weren’t expecting her.”

“Martin instructed her to review the agency,
since of course, Henrietta won’t be available for an indefinite period of
time.”

“Review?”

“Keep things going,” Aud said, probably being
deliberately vague, the way lawyers often were.

“I see,” Emily said, hoping she was wrong
about Donatella’s true agenda.

Emily got up to deposit her cardboard cup in the
trash just as Derian walked in. She stopped abruptly, ambushed by a shock wave
of sensation. She’d hoped to see her, but hadn’t anticipated the impact. She
actually shivered, and she wasn’t the least bit cold. If anything, she felt
feverish—everywhere. All her mental rationalizations as to why she shouldn’t be
captivated by Derian Winfield promptly disappeared with the first glance.
Derian’s face was set in tight lines, faint shadows bruising the skin beneath
her eyes, but she was still every bit as arresting as she had been the night
before. When she saw Emily, a spark ignited in her dark gaze and that intense
laser-like focus fixed on her. Emily’s instant desire to comfort her warred
with her faltering sense of self-preservation. Caring for someone was safe
enough, as long as one kept a firm grip on reality—wasn’t it?

“Hello, Derian.” Emily couldn’t keep the
pleasure at seeing her from her voice. So much for the firm grip on reality.
She ought to move out of the way, let Derian go to Aud, who’d accompanied her,
after all, but she couldn’t escape the hold of Derian’s gaze. Despite the
clouds roiling in Derian’s eyes, Emily grew even warmer, as if she’d stepped
into a pool of sunshine on an overcast day. She couldn’t give up that heat,
even if she risked being burned. Not yet.

“Emily, you’re here,” Derian said, struck by
a wave of relief that left her light-headed. She hadn’t realized how much she’d
wanted to see her until Emily’s steady, compassionate voice enfolded her. She
ought to be wary of such an atypical reaction, but she didn’t have the energy
to fight what she needed just then. Emily was here, and just seeing her helped
ease some of the fear clawing at her insides. “I was going to call you.”

Emily reached for her hand and stopped, as if
an invisible wall stood between them. “How is she?”

“She was awake a bit. She sounded like
herself, just really weak.”

Emily sighed. “Oh, that’s great news.”

Aud stepped beside them, running a hand down
Derian’s arm. “Is surgery still scheduled?”

Derian glanced at Aud, all her senses still
attuned to Emily, as if a giant magnet aimed at the center of her chest drew
her in that direction. “Yes, momentarily. They were preparing to take her to
the OR just now.”

Behind them, the ICU doors opened with a
hydraulic rush. Two men and three women pushed a stretcher half the size of a
hospital bed laden with monitors, bags of IV fluid, an oxygen tank, charts and
papers, and mounds of other equipment. Henrietta was lost in the midst of that
chaos, and the fear simmering in Derian’s middle flashed into an outpouring of
choking dread. She hurried to catch up to the rocketing stretcher, searching beneath
the sheets and apparatus for Henrietta’s hand.

“HW,” she murmured urgently, “it’s Derian.
I’ll see you in a while, okay?”

Henrietta didn’t answer, but her fingers
tightened on Derian’s.

“You’ll be fine.” Derian’s back brushed the
wall as the team halted in front of the elevator. The doors opened and Derian
searched desperately for a way to stop the madness.

“I’m afraid you can’t come any farther. I’ll
keep you updated,” the ICU fellow said.

“I love you,” Derian said as Henrietta’s hand
slipped from hers and the team maneuvered the bed into the elevator. Derian
stood in the doorway. “Where—”

The doors slid shut and she was left staring
at nothing, more helpless than she had ever been in her life. She clenched her
hands, a breath away from beating on the shiny metal surface. “Dammit.”

Emily was suddenly at her side, grasping her
arm. “Come on. They’ll look for you in the waiting area.”

Derian glanced at her, momentarily torn. She
hated waiting, hated being helpless. She sucked in a breath. “Right. Right.
You’re right. Thanks.”

Emily smiled. “No thanks required.”

Aud had halted a way down the hall and
fumbled in her shoulder bag. She pulled out her phone, looked at it, and
frowned. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“Problem?” Derian asked as she walked up.

Aud dropped the phone into her bag and stared
at Derian, clearly weighing her options. She let out a long breath. “I’m going
to have to go. I’m so sorry.”

Derian grimaced, a chill rippling through
her. “Let me guess. Martin has summoned you to the office. Did you tell him
where you were?”

“Yes, of course.”

“With me?”

“Dere,” Aud said, an unusual pleading note in
her voice. “He’s my client and Henrietta’s family. I had—”

“Never mind. You should go. You don’t want to
keep him waiting. He might have a company to buy or something equally
important.”

Aud glanced from Emily to Derian, her cheeks
flushing. “Really, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll call me?” Aud pushed the down button
on the elevator bank.

“Sure,” Derian said wearily.

“I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, Dere. You
know that.”

Derian squeezed the bridge of her nose and
nodded. “I know. It’s okay.”

Emily spoke into the sudden silence as the
elevator doors closed. “I was going to stay, if you don’t mind the company.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Derian smiled
ruefully. “Sorry about the family drama. Martin knows how to push all my
buttons.”

“No need to explain,” Emily said softly.

“I’m glad you’re here. I hate waiting.”

“I’d say you get used to it, but that’s not
true.” Emily remembered well the barely tolerable panic when everything in the
world spun out of control and one crisis piled on top of another. Time became a
blur of adrenaline-fueled anxiety and stretches of soul-sapping waiting. She
rested her hand lightly in the center of Derian’s back. “Come on. Do you want
some coffee?”

Derian grimaced and dropped into a dull
orange fabric sofa against the wall. Two matching chairs flanked it, along with
a faux-leather sofa on the opposite wall. The carpet was industrial-grade dark
brown fabric. “No. I’ve had more than enough.”

Emily sat next to Derian. “Have you had
anything to eat?”

“Breakfast. I’m good.”

Emily remembered. Breakfast with Audrey.
She’d conveniently forgotten that. And she conveniently wasn’t going to think
about how they came to be together first thing in the morning, or what might’ve
happened before breakfast, or last night, more accurately. She had, after all,
turned down Derian’s fairly subtle but unmistakable invitation to stay the
evening before. An invitation that could only have meant time in bed. Of course
she’d said no, and why wouldn’t Derian look for other company? Especially with
someone like Aud, an incredibly attractive woman with whom she shared a history
and obvious deep affection. They were probably part-time lovers.

“What about you?” Derian asked.

Emily jumped. “Sorry? What about me?”

Derian gave her a curious glance. “Have you
eaten?”

“Tea and a cookie about…” She shrugged and
grinned sheepishly. “What feels like a million years ago, but I don’t want to
go anywhere.”

“I bet I can find someplace to deliver.”

Emily grasped Derian’s arm when she reached
for her phone. “No, really. I mean, I’m certain that you can. But I don’t want
you to. I’m too nervous to eat anyway. I’ll be hungry later when we have good
news.”

Derian turned her hand over and Emily’s palm
slid easily over hers. Emily stared at their hands together. She couldn’t. She
didn’t even know her. Even as she thought the words, she slid her fingers
between Derian’s and squeezed gently. “It really is going to be all right.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Emily reluctantly extracted
her hand from Derian’s. “Just sit and close your eyes for a while, then. It
will help.”

Derian glanced at her. “You sound like you’ve
had some experience.”

“I have,” Emily said quietly.

Derian waited, watching her, and her silence,
the unspoken compassion in her gaze, brought the past rushing back before Emily
could throw up the barriers.

*

“I was seventeen, just a few weeks before I
was set to travel to America for college.”

As always happened every time Emily thought
about it, or, rarely, spoke of it, the present faded and she was back in her
old bedroom again, staring into her closet, trying to decide what to leave
behind. Living where it snowed would be fun—she hoped. At least it was a good reason
to shop, although she planned to do most of that once she arrived. For the last
month she’d scoured the university website, not just for the classes she wanted
to take—which was the most exciting part—but also for activities of interest on
campus and off, wondering how well she’d fit in when she didn’t know anyone. As
intimidating as the idea of being alone in a new place was at times, she still
couldn’t wait to go. What an adventure, especially for her, the least
adventurous member of the family. The phone rang and she ignored it, taking out
three shirts, holding them up and then putting one back. She simply couldn’t
take everything, and she
had
to take her books. She couldn’t live for four years without them.

Footsteps in the hall were followed by a brisk
knock on her partially open door. She glanced over at the butler. She started
to speak, but the look on his face strangled the words in her throat.

“A call for you, Miss May,” Joseph said in an
oddly tight, formal tone. He held out the phone. His hand trembled. “It’s the
police.”

Frowning, she took the phone. Shouldn’t they
be speaking to her father, if something was wrong? He’d be home soon. An hour,
if traffic from the airport wasn’t heavy. “Hello? This is Emily May. I’m afraid
my father—”

She remembered a man’s voice, words that made
no sense, her brain suddenly slow and sluggish, trying desperately to discern
the meaning behind phrases that couldn’t possibly apply to her or her life.
Accident. Injuries. Airlift. Hospital. Emergency. Emergency. Emergency.

She’d been so cold, frozen, for days and
days.

Emily shivered and a warm hand closed over
hers. She blinked, and Derian was there, solid and real and warm. “My father
had a short meeting in Jakarta, and he and my mother tacked on a few days’
vacation. My sister wanted to scuba dive and went with them. I begged off, I
had too much to do getting ready for my trip to the States.” She took a breath,
the pain in her chest cutting her breath short. “They were in a small plane—it
went down just short of the airfield. No one was ever able to determine why.
The pilot and my…” She swallowed. “My mother was killed instantly.”

“Emily,” Derian murmured gently. “I’m so
terribly sorry.”

Emily blinked the searing pain of memory
away. “A car came for me, from the embassy. My father worked for the foreign
office. My father and my sister Pam were taken to the trauma center. I didn’t
know about my mother until I got to the hospital. Even then it took hours for
anyone to tell me anything.”

“I can’t begin to imagine how horrifying that
must’ve been.”

“I don’t have any other close family, and all
my friends—” She shrugged. “Well, they were teenagers, and this was something
no one knew how to deal with.”

“So you were alone.” Derian bit off the
words, angry at something she couldn’t change but wished desperately she had
been able to. That she could have somehow been there, to share some of the
pain, to shield her somehow from the horror.

“Of course, people came from my father’s post
to help me with the details, and looked after the bills and insurance, things
like that. I don’t remember. I didn’t really even pay any attention. I stayed
with my best friend’s family at first.”

She hadn’t realized she was cold, hadn’t
realized Derian had moved, until Derian handed her a hot cup of tea. Her
fingers were numb on the cup. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to tell me the rest.”

Emily smiled weakly. “I want to, if you don’t
mind.”

“Of course not.”

“My father never woke up. About ten days
after the accident, he developed severe pulmonary complications. He died
without ever knowing what happened, and part of me is almost glad. He would’ve
so hated to be without Mother.” She grimaced. “I don’t know if that’s selfish
of me or not.”

“There isn’t a selfish cell in your body.”
Pain speared Derian’s heart. She couldn’t think of a single word that would be
adequate solace, but Emily seemed to welcome her touch, and she needed to touch
her just then. She clasped Emily’s hand again, cradled it in hers.

“Pam was in a coma for six weeks,” Emily
said, her voice stronger now. “Severe brain contusion and, of course, many
broken bones that eventually healed. But she…” She rubbed her eyes, brushed at
the moisture there. “She suffered a severe brain injury and has never fully
recovered. She’s not communicative and requires twenty-four-hour care.”

“In Singapore,” Derian said.

“Yes. I delayed coming to the States until
she was released from the hospital and settled. Everyone—the doctors and social
workers—felt she would do better if she remained in familiar surroundings.”

“And the long term?” Derian asked gently.

“Miracles happen, of course, and physically
she’s still young and strong, but…” Emily sighed. “She’s likely to need a
lifetime of round-the-clock care.”