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Over and over again.
As she waited, and prayed.
There had been only one other thing she had done since the doctor had discharged her. She had begged the favour of a call to the UK. Across the ocean she had spoken to Jenny, warning her to lie low, that the man who had got her pregnant was prepared to kill for her.
She went on staring at the clock.
My fault. My fault. My fault.
The doors opened. A doctor came out in Theatre garb. He came up to Anna, loosening his mask. His face was grave.
Her throat had a noose around it.
The surgeon looked at her a moment. Then a tired smile formed on his mouth.
‘You’ve got a very tough man there. I’ve patched him together again, but he needs a reward for all his heroics. Make sure you’re there when he surfaces. He deserves a beautiful woman to wake up to.’
Anna burst into tears.
Leo was so pale.
His face like marble.
He hardly seemed to be breathing, and yet the low rise and fall of his bandaged chest told her that he was alive. Blessedly, blessedly alive.
Gratitude flooded through her.
And more, so much more than gratitude.
Shakily, she sat down on a chair and pulled it closer to him. His hands lay on either side of him, inert, pale.
She slid her fingers around the hand nearest her.
Living flesh.
Slowly she lowered her cheek to his hand.
It was wet with tears.
How long she sat there, she did not know. Nurses looked in every now and then—sometimes at her, sometimes to check Leo. The night wore on, and still she sat there, his hand clasped tight in hers, never letting him go.
The dawn came, fingers of pale light stealing into the room. A nurse came to check him again, bringing coffee and sandwiches for Anna.
‘His pulse is stronger,’ she told her. ‘He’ll be back with us very soon.’ She glanced down at where Anna was holding his hand. ‘Don’t you let go, now. He knows, you know. You hang on in there.’ She gave a last smile. ‘Now, drink this coffee while it’s hot. And eat.’
She glided out.
Anna went on holding on.
Does he know? Does he know I’m here?
And, if he did, was she helping or harming?
Tears started in her eyes again.
He came for me. He risked his life and came for me. He thinks I stole from him, he thinks me a thief, but he came for me. After everything I said to him…he came for me, to save me.
Her heart swelled with emotion. Emotion so strong it frightened her. Her vision was blurred, so blurred, so it was the infinitesimally slight movement of his hand that she first registered. She caught her breath, her heart squeezing. She wiped her eyes hurriedly with her free hand. The tears just welled again. But this time she saw him move, saw his eyelids lift, saw him gaze without vision for a moment and then, as if his eyes were bearing great weights, they cleared, and moved.
To her.
For a moment there was nothing in his eyes. Nothing at all.
Her heart was crushed. Just crushed.
Slowly, feeling as if a stake were being plunged into her heart, she started to draw her fingers away.
He seized them back with lightning reaction, crushing them, not letting her go.
His eyelids drooped again.
‘Anna,’ he said. The word was a sigh, faint and low.
His eyes sank shut.
He slid back into sleep.
But at his mouth Anna saw a faint, relaxing curve.
Later still, she was packed off back to the villa, driven by one of Leo’s staff. They were all so nice to her, so kind. She wanted to shout at them, tell them it was her fault—all her fault. But the maids bore her off, got her under a shower, fed her and put her to bed.
But not in her own bed. In Leo’s.
She slept, hugging his pillow.
It had his scent on it.
And her tears.
When she arrived back at the hospital it was to learn that Leo had already surfaced into full consciousness, then gone back to sleep again. His vital signs were good, his natural physical strength boosting his body’s healing powers.
‘He’ll wake again quite soon,’ the nurse told her. ‘You make sure you’re there when he does. And don’t cry, dear. He’s going to be fine, you know.’
The admonition was in vain. Anna took one look at Leo’s sleeping form, his pale face, his bandaged chest, and started crying again.
Emotion filled her. Filled her and filled her. Welling up and spilling over—just like her tears.
Her heart squeezed.
Oh, Leo, she cried silently. Leo!
She sat down, trembling beside him, and gazed at him, her lips murmuring endlessly.
Eyes anguished.
Heart fuller than it had ever been in her life.
Full with love for Leo Makarios.
Leo was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, because Anna was crying. She was crying, and saying she was sorry—so sorry, so sorry.
So it must be a dream.
Anna never said sorry.
