“I feel well, finally. The surgery wasn’t a picnic, but it worked.”
“I’m glad. Swain was there, you know.”
She felt as if he’d thrown a body block at her. “What?” The word came out as a weak gasp.
“For your surgery. He wanted to be there. When you were placed on the heart-lung machine, he almost fainted.”
“How . . . how do you know that?” She almost couldn’t speak, so profound was her shock.
“I was there, too, of course. I was . . . concerned. It wasn’t a minor surgery. He saw you in recovery, but had to leave before you were awake.”
Or he’d wanted to leave before she was awake. She didn’t know how to take all this in, or what to think.
“You can leave here anytime you want,” Mr. Vinay continued. “Do you know what you want to do?”
“See my mother and sister, first of all. After that . . . I don’t know. I need a new line of work,” she said wryly.
“If there’s any field in which you’d like to be trained. . . . We can always use someone who’s dedicated and resourceful, and loyal.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to think about it. I honestly have no idea what I want to do.”
“Maybe I can help out a little,” he said, getting to his feet with some difficulty. He used a cane now, she saw, leaning his weight heavily on it. “He’s waiting. Do you want to see him?”
There was no need to ask who was waiting. Her heart leaped, and her pulse began racing. “Yes,” she said without hesitation.
He smiled. “I’m glad. I didn’t know if you understood how difficult things were for him.”
“I didn’t at first,” she said honestly. “I was so shocked to realize . . . but then I began to think.”
He laboriously made his way around the desk, and patted her shoulder. “Have a good life, Liliane.”
“I will, thank you . . . Mr. Rogers.”
Frank Vinay smiled, and left the office. Ten seconds later, the door opened again and Lucas Swain stood there, as good-looking as always, but now he wasn’t laughing. The expression in his blue eyes was almost . . . scared.
“Lily,” he began. “I—”
“I know,” she interrupted, and with a laugh launched herself at him. His reflexes were excellent; he opened his arms and caught her.
By Linda Howard
A LADY OF THE WEST
ANGEL CREEK
THE TOUCH OF FIRE
HEART OF FIRE
DREAM MAN
AFTER THE NIGHT
SHADES OF TWILIGHT
SON OF THE MORNING
KILL AND TELL
NOW YOU SEE HER
ALL THE QUEEN’S MEN
MR. PERFECT
OPEN SEASON
DYING TO PLEASE
CRY NO MORE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 2004 by Linda Howington
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and
simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
www.ballantinebooks.com
library of congress control number: 2004092320
eISBN 0-345-47853-3