Page 13 of The One-Night Wife

Sean nodded toward his two brothers-in-law. "Stefano and Qasim are going to the hotel," he told his sisters. "They're taking you ladies with them."

There was a blur of protest. The men held fast.

"No arguments," Cullen said firmly.

The women rose reluctantly. Sean turned to Dan.

"Come on," he said to his stepfather, and used Dan's own earlier words. "Ma's going to need you when she re­gains consciousness. You'll have to be here, one hundred percent."

Again, it was when, not if. They were all taking strength from that. Dan gave a reluctant nod. "I'll do it, but only so I can give your mother my opinion of the hotel. She always likes to know what the competition's doing."

It was a forlorn attempt at humor but they grabbed it like a lifeline, especially since it was a reminder of Mary Eliza­beth's vitality as head of the Desert Song Hotel in Las Ve-gas. Keir, Cullen and Sean promised to phone if there was the slightest change and yes, of course, they'd take a breather themselves in a few hours.

When the others had gone, the brothers sat in silence for a while. Then Sean cleared his throat.

"How did it happen?"

Cullen and Keir shook their heads. "It just did," Cull said. "Dan and Ma were in Central Park. He says they were walking along, talking..."

"About what? Was she upset over something?"

"No, she wasn't upset. She was talking about you and Bree."

"About Briana and me?"

"Yeah. The usual thing. You know, how she'd be happy if Bree would find a guy to love, and if you'd get married and settle down."

"What do you mean, 'the usual thing'?" Sean frowned. "Ma never said—"

"Well," Cullen said uncomfortably, "she wouldn't. Not to you, but to us, you know, she says she worries about you guys, that you're alone."

"No," Sean said tightly. "I don't know. And if you're trying to tell me that's why she had—that I'm the reason for—"

"Settle down, little brother," Keir said quickly. "No­body's even suggesting that. You asked what she was talk­ing about. We're telling you."

Sean glared at his brothers. Then his face crumpled. "Right. I know that's not why this happened. It's only that—that it's hard to—to—"

"Yeah," Cullen said, "it is."

"What about the doctors?"

"They're doing everything they can."

"Did you call in a consultant? I know this guy's supposed to be top-notch, but—"

"He is top-notch," Cullen said quietly. "We flew in Ma's own doctor," Keir added. "He agreed on her treatment."

Sean sprang to his feet. "Treatment? What treatment? She's lying in that bed. I don't call that treatment, I call that—"

"They gave her a drug. It's supposed to dissolve the clot that's causing the problem."

Problem? Sean almost laughed. That was a hell of a way to describe something that might kill their mother.

"Sean." Keir stood up and put an arm around his younger brother. "We're all going nuts here, but we have to wait. It's all we can do." Sean's shoulders sagged. "You're right. It's just—" He sat down. So did Keir. The three O'Connells were silent for a long time. Then Cullen mouthed an oath. "I hate this place," he growled. "Take a walk," Keir told him. "Get some air. Go around the block."

"No. No, I want to be here if—when..." Cullen fell si­lent, struggling for self-control. "Hey," he said, his tone as artificial as the flowers on a corner table, "did I tell you guys that Marissa and I drove down from Boston and took Ma and Dan to dinner the other night?"

He was, Sean knew, trying to change the subject, which was probably a damned fine idea. Okay. He'd do his part. "Smart woman, our mother," he said briskly. "Won't catch her risking ptomaine by having a meal at Big Brother's la-ti-da restaurant in Connecticut."

Keir forced out a laugh. "Hey, kid. Just because you wouldn't know haute cuisine from hamburger doesn't mean the rest of the family has no taste. Ma and Dan came up for supper with us and stayed the night as soon as they hit the city."

"Only because Marissa and I didn't get into town until the next day," Cullen said.

"Yeah," Sean added, "and what's with that crack about my taste buds?''

"It wasn't a crack," Keir said. "It was the truth. There we were, growing up with room service ready to provide anything from beef Wellington to lobster thermidor, and what did you ask for, night after night? A cheeseburger and fries."

"Oh, not every night," Cullen said. "Our little brother used to cleanse his palate with an occasional hot dog."

"They were chili dogs," Sean said, "and did you really just say 'cleanse his palate'?"

"What can I tell you? I've got a wife who decided she loves to cook. She gets these magazines, you know? And sometimes I leaf through them."

Sean looked at Keir. "Cullen's learned to read," he said solemnly.

"Miracles happen," Keir replied.

Miracles. Would one happen in this hospital tonight? The same thought hit them all and ended their forced attempt at levity. Sean tried to think of something to talk about but came up empty. Keir was the one who made the next try at conversation.

"So," he said, "where were you when I phoned?"

Sean looked up. "Emeraude Island. In the Bahamas."

"Nice

?"

"Yeah."

More silence. Cullen cleared his throat. "Marissa and I've been thinking of getting away for a long weekend. What's Emeraude like?"

"You know. Pink sand beaches. Blue water. Lush moun­tains."

"And casinos."

"A couple."

"How'd you do?"

Sean stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. "Okay."

"Okay, he says." Cullen raised his eyebrows. "What'd you win this time? A trillion bucks?"

"No."

"My God," Keir said, "don't tell me. You lost!"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, that's how you made it sound." He smiled. "How much did you win, then?"

Sean gave a shrug. "A few hundred thousand."

"And that wasn't enough to make you happy?"

No, Sean thought in mild surprise, it wasn't.

"Kid? What's the matter?"

A muscle knotted in Sean's jaw. "I won something else."

"Ah. No, don't tell us. Let me guess. A car? A yacht?" Keir grinned at Cullen. "A French chateau?"

"A woman," Sean said flatly.

His brothers' jaws dropped. "A what?"

"You heard me. I won a—"

"Mr. O'Connell?"

The O'Connells sprang to their feet. Sean could feel his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest until he saw the smile on the face of the nurse who'd come into the room. They all let out a breath in one big whoosh.

"Your mother's regained consciousness, gentlemen." Her smile broadened. "And because she won't have it any other way, the doctor's agreed to let her visit with all of you at once."

Mary Elizabeth was back.

Maybe not completely. After a week, she was still paler than anyone liked, still looking fragile. Her speech was a little slurred and there were times she had to search for words.

But her smile was the same as it had always been. Her sense of humor was intact. So was her determination to take charge, even from a hospital bed.

She insisted Dan had to fly home and oversee things at the Desert Song. She told Cullen and Marissa it was more important they be at home with their baby than here with her, and tried to shoo Keir and Cassie away with the same message. She gave marching orders to Fallon and Stefano, then to Megan and Qasim.

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