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“Yes, I can. I will,” she asserted emphatically, then hesitated, her expression flicking to eloquent appeal. “If you can forgive me for keeping Zoe to myself.”
“My fault for not sharing with you.”
“No. What I did was wrong. It was mean and nasty and vengeful. And I’m sorry…sorry…” She shook her head fretfully. “You gave your mother back her life. You gave my mother back her life. And all I’ve done is bitterly condemn you for not…not…” Tears welled and she quickly veiled them, looking down at her lap where her hands held each other tightly. Keeping her courage screwed to the sticking point?
“Not giving what we had together enough value,” he finished for her. “I should have, Nicole,” he added gravely. “I didn’t realise until after it was gone how much I should have valued it. I’ve been trying to show you…”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” she choked out, then took another deep breath and lifted her chin, wet eyes defiantly open to meet his. “It was a different time and place, Quin. This is now. You said on Friday night that you wanted me to be your wife.”
His lungs stopped working. His chest hurt. His heart drummed in his ears. He worked hard at forcing up enough breath to say, “I do,” desperately hoping this confirmation wouldn’t draw another rejection.
“Okay. I’ve decided to marry you. Zoe should have her father on hand and I—” she swallowed hard “—I want to be with you, too.”
Relief surged through him, easing the pain caused by tension. Elation danced through his mind. He smiled. “We belong together, Nicole.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
But there was no answering smile, no joy in her eyes.
“Nothing like a crisis to bring people together,” he said ironically.
“Yes,” she agreed, echoing his irony.
At least it wasn’t loaded with bitterness, Quin thought, though he was acutely aware that she wasn’t professing any love for him. Maybe that was forever lost. He was sensing only a recognition and an acceptance that they had a strong enough personal connection to make a marriage work, given that their daughter’s best interests should be considered.
A heavy weight settled on his heart. He’d done this to Nicole, failing to meet her emotional needs in the past, draining her of the love she had given him. Forgiveness for his failure didn’t guarantee restoration of what they’d once had together. It just meant moving on, leaving the bad emotional baggage behind, and her love for Zoe was probably a prime mover in her decision to marry him.
“What happened to the photo albums?” he asked, suddenly recalling they’d been in the car—precious mementoes of Zoe’s life so far.
“They weren’t damaged,” Nicole quickly assured him. “They were recovered by the police and handed over to my mother.”
“Well, thank God they weren’t lost,” he muttered, closing his eyes as a sickening wave of weakness rolled through him. The coma might have been good for healing after surgery but the days of immobility ha
d sapped his body of its normal strength, letting him know it when he least expected it, telling him now that the energy spent on this meeting with Nicole came at a cost.
Everything did. His determination to restore family honour had cost him Nicole’s love, cost him four years of his daughter’s life. Getting Nicole to connect with him again had cost him a lot of money. Not that he cared about that. He just wished he could have worked it all differently.
“Quin?”
He heard the quavery note of anxiety in her voice and savagely told himself that some measure of caring was still there and he could build on it. He felt her hand clutch his, enfolding it in warm softness, gently pressing. She didn’t want to walk away from him. Not this time.
“Are you all right? Should I call a doctor?”
“No. Just feeling a bit faint. It passes.”
“Maybe I should leave you to rest.”
Her hand started releasing his. He grabbed it, holding onto her. She was his woman. She had to know it.
“I’ll be back this afternoon with Zoe,” she assured him.
He opened his eyes, shooting her a look of blazing need that was totally beyond his will to control. “Kiss me, Nicole. That will make me feel better.”
It startled her, fear and uncertainty flicking across her face. He tugged her hand, pulling her towards him. She rose from the chair, stood beside the bed, her eyes worriedly searching his. “Are you sure, Quin?”
“Yes.”
She bent and grazed her lips gently over his, her free hand resting on the pillow beside his head. Quin closed his eyes again, breathing in her scent, savouring the taste of her, wishing he could hold her close, ruefully accepting it would be unwise, given his present condition.
