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“My sister was the one steady thing in my life. How can I feel this way towards her?”

Ryan sat on the bed beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “I want to be the constant person in your life now. I know this isn’t the perfect time, heck, it’s probably the worst time in the history of mankind to tell you I love you. But there it is. I do. I’m here for you.”

Her heart raced. She stared at him in disbelief. How could he? She was a mess. She didn’t even love herself right now. “Please don’t.” She moved away from him and knew she’d regret it for the rest of her life but she had to.

He took her hand. “I understand you better than you think. I know how tough caring can be. What it’s like to wish the person you love more than anyone else in the world would die quickly for their sake while at the same time wanting to hang onto them for as long as you can. I know what it is like to wish for something you can’t have. Lucy, I’m offering you something you can have.”

“No, Ryan, I can’t let you love me.”

He let go of her hand and stared down at her as if defeated. His beautiful blue eyes held shadows that she’d put there. “You don’t get a choice in that,” he said slowly.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t get it. I don’t know how to love. To really love. I’ve failed my sister. I’m failing you now. How can you love this messed-up, screwed-up me?” He just looked at her with a mixture of astonishment and sadness in his eyes. She studied his face, wanting with all her heart to give him what he asked for. But she couldn’t.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Lucy.”

His kisses the night before had been all fire and passion, but the simple caress of his lips on her cheek held a devastating finality that filled her with a grief bone deep.

Apart from when Ryan had followed his father’s casket down the aisle of the church, walking down the stairs and away from Lucy was the longest journey of Ryan’s existence. For once in his life he’d opened his heart to someone and she’d shoved it back at him.

Lucy wasn’t who he’d thought she was. He wanted the woman who’d shown such spunk when he’d made her mad. The one who’d had the fortitude to carry a child for her sister, the strength to move away from everything she knew to one of the largest cities in the world and to share her pain with him. Why couldn’t he make her see that she had what it took to talk to her sister?

He pushed the door to his condo open. Dumping his wallet and keys on the bar in the kitchen, he climbed the stairs to his room. He stopped in the doorway and looked at the bed.

That morning Lucy had insisted, “We can’t leave it undone. I make my bed every morning.”

“And I have a housekeeper who comes in twice a week.”

When she started shaking out the sheet, he’d taken the other side to help.

As he’d tucked a corner she’d said, “Hey, you can’t just wad that up and put it under there.” She circled the bed, reaching down to pull the material out.

“Don’t tell me how I’m supposed to make a bed,” he’d said, sounding as indignant as possible before he’d grabbed her and rolled her onto the bed. She’d giggled. He’d shared her mirth. He hadn’t laughed so freely since before his father had become sick. Had almost forgotten how good it felt to be alive. Happily alive.

He’d kissed her and that was all it had taken. They’d not taken time to remove their clothes and she hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, his desperate need for her had seemed to fuel her own. She’d crawled on top and had taken over their lovemaking.

That’s what it had been. Him loving her. He’d not recognized it then but it was clear now. So much so that it hurt to look at the bed, to remember. His body ached from the mere thought of her.

Walking to the dark brown chair that faced the window, he plopped down, put his legs across the matching footstool and crossed his ankles. The lights of the city had lost some of their luster. Scooting his butt forward, he braced his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t be sleeping in his bed tonight.

Lucy curled under her sheets still fully clothed and pulled her legs to her chest, becoming a ball. She buried her head in a pillow and let the tears flow. It had been horrible when she’d left Alexis and Emily behind and moved to New York. But nothing compared to giving up Ryan.

She’d hurt him. He’d said he loved her and she’d thrown it back in his face. She was unworthy of his love. She missed Ryan’s arms being around her, his strong, calming presence. It had taken him no time to become embedded in her life.

She’d slept next to Ryan for only one night but she already missed his warm body pressed against hers. What did he see in her? She was a mess. Here she was supposed to be helping others and she couldn’t even handle her own life.

How had her world spun so out of control? How could she ever face him at work again? Maybe she should speak to Mr. Matherson and see if she could be reassigned to another neurosurgeon. No, she couldn’t do that. It might damage Ryan’s career if she did. She couldn’t hurt him like that. She’d just have to endure and be the professional she was known to be. But could she stand the pain of seeing him daily?

CHAPTER NINE

“THE PATIENT’S DOING as expected,” Ryan informed the assembly around him in the hallway of the neurosurgery floor midmorning. The group didn’t include Lucy. She’d excused herself as soon as they had come out of the patient’s room. He had to make an effort not to watch her walk away. They’d not spoken since he’d left her apartment three days earlier.

It was up to Lucy to make the first move. She was the one who’d pushed him away. She’d never said she loved him. Despite being distraught about her issues with her sister, she’d sounded very clear-headed where he was concerned. Learning to live with her decision was going to be difficult. Even harder was accepting it. Compounding the issue was having to continue to work together.

She’d taken care of her responsibilities, making meticulous notes on patient charts. His clinical nurse questioned him a couple of times about an issue that Lucy had noted but which she hadn’t directly spoken to him about. In fact, she refused to look at him. She was living by the letter of the law regarding their co-operative patient care but there was no spirit of partnership in her actions any more.

He grieved for her. Only by sheer iron w

ill did he not go in search of her or ask about her. She’d made her feelings clear. How could they have been so in sync and now have an ocean-wide chasm between them? He missed the peaceful, quiet way she’d had about her. How she’d made his hectic, often stressful life easier just by being near.

Helping her was impossible. She had to work out her issues on her own. He’d offered her love and his support and she’d pushed them away. He was paying dearly for it.

The worst was the physical ache. His body craved her, making his nights almost longer than his sanity could tolerate.

Having a few minutes before starting his weekly paperwork, he headed across the street and into Central Park. He needed to get out, away. Clear his head. As large as the hospital was, it still closed in on him, knowing that Lucy was so near but still so untouchable.

He strolled around a bend on the paved walkway and there sat his nemesis and love of his heart. She looked out over the lake, her face held up to the sun and her lunch spread out on the bench beside her. His body went on full alert. Every fiber of his being wanted to reach out and snatch her to him. Thankfully, his pride held him in check.

Her eyes opened, widened. Had she heard him or just sensed someone was near? She looked as if she was debating whether or not to ignore him. She squared her shoulders and looked directly at him.

“Hello, Ryan,” she said. The sounds of the city were hushed by the foliage of the trees and bushes. The few voices he could make out were in the distance. It would have been a perfect opportunity to take her in his arms for a kiss. But if he did that he would want more. A little of Lucy would never be enough. He wanted it all and he wanted her to want it all too.

A thin smile came to his lips. She was tough. He’d give her that. Far tougher than he was. But, then, she didn’t care about him as he cared for her. She had never once said she loved him. Forcing a foot forward, he came to stand in front of her. “Lucy.” His traitorous body hummed, being near her. She’d crushed his heart and still he wanted her so desperately it was almost a living thing, crawling to be released. “Could I speak to you a minute?”

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