The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,93
If I had lost you . . .”
“Shhh. I’m here.” She pulled his head down to kiss his mouth. He returned the kiss hesitantly, as if afraid she might break. Lowering his head to her chest, he pressed his ear to her heart, breathing deeply. Sarah was so moved by his reaction that she felt tears welling in her own eyes. “I love you, Alex.”
“I love you, Sarah.” He raised his head, taking her hand in his. “Listen, I know you think I’ve undermined your success by producing the movie, that I’m biased and thus incapable of making an impartial decision.”
He turned her hand over, absently tracing the lifeline in her palm. “And to be completely honest, when an unpublished novel was presented to me, I wasn’t terribly interested,” he hesitated, wincing as he spoke, “until I found out you were the author.”
He held up his hands before she could berate him. “Now don’t get your knickers in a twist. I took a look at the manuscript because it was yours, but I optioned it because it was, well, marvelous. You know me. I wouldn’t put my money or my reputation on the line if I thought it was rubbish.”
She gave him a dubious look, but before she could speak, he continued. “I won’t deny that an added benefit of optioning your work was seeing you again. I’m not finished,” he said as he placed a finger over her open lips. “And I won’t deny that that prospect didn’t have anything to do with choosing to read your manuscript.” He paused, waiting for her to speak, and when she didn’t, he added, “Okay. I’m done.”
“Alex, I am so sorry about our argument. After the train accident, and having faced the possibility of never seeing you again . . . well, it has put a lot of things in perspective for me. Some things just aren’t important in the grand scheme.”
Thinking of her father’s advice, she said as she picked at the blanket across her lap, “But on the train, before the accident, I’d been thinking about it, and I realized it was my stubborn streak that made me so angry. I have to let go of this need to do everything on my own. I have to allow people to help me, especially you. Isn’t that what partners are for?
“And I’m going to start right now. I could use a little help to the bathroom.” She smiled reassuringly into his bewildered face. He recovered, laughing at her inaugural request for help.
Shaking his head, he helped her out of bed and to the bathroom, before giving her some privacy. “Call me when you’re ready to walk back to the bed.”
Sarah held onto the wall, still a little unsteady on her feet. When she opened the door to ask for his help back to bed, he sat on the bed looking at his hands, a frown on his face.
“Alex, what’s wrong?”
He rose, walking over to assist her back to the bed. After getting her settled, he sat on the bed again. “I have one more confession, and then I promise never to hide the truth from you again.”
She stiffened, her first thought of Brooke. Telling herself to remain calm, she said, “Okay. I’m listening.”
He heaved an enormous sigh. “This flat is mine.”
“What? Yours? Why would you vacate your home for me? I’m sure there were hundreds of other places where I could have stayed.” Yes, she reminded herself, too many coincidences.
“But I knew you would be comfortable here.” The frown returned. “No. That’s not the whole truth. The truth is that I relished the thought of you here . . . in my home . . . in my bed.”
“Oh.” Why did that jumpstart her heart? “That explains the food in the kitchen. I wondered how someone knew my favorite foods.”
“Yes. I wanted everything perfect for you.”
“Lord Rutherford, you are something else.” She couldn’t help laughing, but not too hard because it hurt her head.
“You’re not upset?”
“Well, I guess under the circumstances you couldn’t tell me until now, because your entire house of cards would have collapsed, though I’m glad you finally fessed-up. Come here.”
As he leaned down, she took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly at first, and then more insistently. She tried to ignore the throbbing in her head as her heart broke into a sprint.
He clung to her, remembering the pain, the uncertainty, but his brain overruled his heart . . . and his libido.