by Risk, Mona
No place for him.
All she could give him was gratitude. Merde, he didn’t want her gratitude.
He would finish his mission, bring the old man, and let them mend the past while he collected his suitcases and handed the keys to McMillan.
Then he would go back to France. To his empty life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Mom,” Melissa called, standing in the doorway of Olivia’s bedroom. “Mo-om, are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really.” Olivia sat on her bed and sniffed. “It’s just a bad case of nerves after the emotions we’ve been through.”
“I understand,” Melissa said, with surprising maturity for her age. “Things will improve from now on.”
“Yeah.” Maybe they’d improve for Melissa who was young and had her life ahead of her. For Olivia, it was the end of a dream. She’d pushed Luc away because she owed it to Melissa to make up for her past mistakes.
But it hurt so much to lose Luc again.
“Mom, what’s really wrong?” Melissa repeated as she settled next to Olivia on the bed.
“It’s just that Luc is gone and—”
“What d’you mean gone? He went back to CUH to work. He told me he’ll be back in a few days to check on me.”
Olivia sighed. “You don’t understand. Luc and I...we...”
“Mom, what if you tell me your whole story with Luc?”
“What’s the point? It’s all in the past now.”
“Oh no, it’s not. I want my Papa Luc around.”
“But, honey, I gave him up for you.”
“For me? You must be kidding? He’s exactly the sort of dad I had in mind for years.”
Olivia looked into her daughter’s eyes, seeking answers to her own questions. “What about your real father? Don’t you want to meet him?”
Melissa shuddered and chewed on her lip. “I...I’m not sure I want to see my biological father anymore. He sounds too nasty according to what you and Luc said. He made you suffer. And he didn’t want me.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “He wanted you to have an abortion. To eliminate me. I don’t want to see him, Mom. At least not now.” She shook her head and sobbed. “He’s not at all what I imagined.”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
“No, you did well. Everything you did. You saved my life.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Olivia gently combed her daughter’s hair with her fingers and waited for the sobs to subside. Melissa looked like Jeremy, but she’d inherited nothing of his character.
Melissa raised her head. “Mom, do you love Luc?”
“Huh?” Olivia hesitated, and then nodded. It was her first heart-to-heart conversation with her daughter since they’d made up, and she wanted to show Melissa how much she trusted her. “Yes, I love him. I already loved him ten years ago. But I felt I had to devote myself to my little girl. I couldn’t give you my hundred percent attention if I were married and had more children.”
“Oh Mom, you let him go because of me?”
“I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Maybe at the time. I don’t know. But now? Mom, you should keep him. Trust me, he’s wonderful.”
Olivia smiled at Melissa’s enthusiasm. “I know. Unfortunately, I don’t know if he still wants me after I told him to go away...again.”
“You did? When?”
“After I talked to you. Just before the accident.”
“Cripes. It’s my fault then. Maybe I should talk to him. He listens to me.”
“No, please, honey. Don’t.”
Melissa planted a fist on her hip. Exactly like her grandmother, when Marianna was upset and all bossy. “Well, if you love him, do something. Go after him.”
“Will he listen to me now? After I pushed him away?”
“Mom, you always told me that when I want something I have to go and grab it.” Melissa chuckled. “You know Eric, that guy in my class who plays football? I like him a lot. I’m going to make sure he notices me. You know, the right outfit, a smile here and there, even a joke. That’s how you get your man. You should do the same.”
Olivia opened her mouth and forgot to close it. To receive a lesson on how to catch a man’s attentions from her daughter was the last thing she’d expected.
But Melissa was right. Olivia would go and get her man.
****
A week later Olivia sat on the porch swing and rocked in a monotonous rhythm that matched her mood. She inhaled the woodsy scent of air and pine trees. Luc hadn’t shown up for a whole week.
Unable to summon an ounce of energy to check on her daughter or her mother, Olivia buttoned her jacket and raised its collar high over her turtleneck. She shivered, although the weather was surprisingly mild for the last Sunday before Thanksgiving.
The aroma of the chocolate liquor torte Marianna baked with unrelenting zeal reached her through the open window of the kitchen, soon followed by the spicy perfume of hot cinnamon punch. It promised to be the perfect gourmet conclusion to the surprise party she and her mother had planned for the evening.
But the delicious smell nauseated Olivia at the moment, and she almost regretted the invitation issued to Rutherford and Luc for tonight.
Where was her Luc? Her real Luc.
The one who’d forced her to confront the hypocrisy and falsehood and denial she had immersed herself in for ten years.
The one who’d kissed her and held her in his arms almost a month ago. An eternity ago.
Damn it, she couldn’t cope with his indifference, his chilly politeness. He called every day, asked about Melissa’s health, consulted with Olivia about her own patients, then talked to Melissa. And the tone changed. Melissa’s laughter rang all the way to the hallway. Olivia had been tempted to eavesdrop, just to hear his old voice again.
Why was he treating her so formally? She’d spent endless nights last week, after he’d left so suddenly, replaying every word they said, trying to figure out how she could have gone wrong.
Granted she’d told him to leave, but that was right after her argument with Melissa. She’d spluttered emotional words she didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. Of course, he understood that.
Or did he?
Hey, he was a world-renowned psychiatrist, so he couldn’t be that stupid? Although she’d heard that when it came to personal feelings, men could be particularly obtuse. Including psychiatrists.
She wanted his love. She wanted commitment and marriage. She had to do something. Go and grab him, as Melissa had advised. Get him back before some beauty snatched him. Olivia had been home on a leave of absence ever since the accident. Away from the office far too long.
Time to act, Dr. Crane.
She straightened, squared her shoulder and entered the kitchen where Marianna stirred her last-minute sauce. “Mom, go get dressed.”
“Well, you better tell that to yourself. You look like a slob. And put on some makeup.”
If only Marianna could refrain from ordering her around and chastising her every now and then. “Thanks.” She spun around to escape her mother’s lecture, but took in the cozy, warm ambience of the living room. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving, yet Marianna had done a superb job decorating the old house. Olivia smiled and came back to kiss her mother’s overheated cheek. “Really, thank you for everything.”
Mama had done her best. The rest is up to me.
In her successful but laborious career, Olivia had learned that to succeed, one had to be well-prepared. Tonight she absolutely had to succeed in getting Luc back before it was too late. She would be ready for the task at hand.
“What to wear?” she mused as she opened her closet. She pulled out three dresses.
The red? Too Christmassy. Let’s not overdo it.
Black? She’d already worn black to the dance.
The green chiffon dress that cross-wrapped at the waist and had a plunging neckline made her smile. It’d be perfect with a jade pendant nestled between her breasts. She slipped it
on. It hugged her hips and skimmed her knees. Sheer elegance. She spent fifteen minutes applying her makeup, a record length of time for her, and then she knocked on Melissa’s door.
“Come in.” Lying on her bed, a telephone glued to her ear, Melissa bolted up to a sitting position as soon as she glanced in Olivia’s direction. “Bye. Got to go,” she said in the phone as she snapped it shut. “Wow. Going out tonight?”
“No. But Luc called. He’s bringing an important guest.”
“From France?” Melissa opened interested eyes.
Hardly able to contain her impatience, Olivia shook her head. “From the hospital.”
“And you dressed up to kill for a guy from your work?”
“Of course not.”
A large smile spread across Melissa’s face. “I see.”
“Do me a favor and get dressed immediately. Something nice. Our guest will be here soon.”
“Okay. Calm down. I’ll be ready.” She scanned Olivia’s outfit. Her gaze paused on the décolletage. “You look stunning, Mom. Good luck,” she said with a wink.
The doorbell chimed as Olivia reached the bottom of the stairs. Marianna gestured for her to sit down and sauntered toward the door.
“Luc dear, come in. Dr. Crane is already here. Mr. Rutherford, what a pleasure to meet you. I’m Marianna Broccio.” Tripping on her maiden name, Marianna regally extended her hand to the old man. To protect their surprise, Olivia had asked her mother to hide her last name until Melissa appeared.
“I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am. Thomas Rutherford.”
“Call me, Marianna.”
“If you call me Tom,” he said with a charming smile and...Jeremy’s voice. For a second, Olivia’s heart stopped beating.
“Marianna, you look gorgeous,” Luc said as he kissed her mother.
Calm down. It’ll be all right.
Yes, Melissa would be all right. Her daughter was young. She would cope with the happy surprise. But Olivia...
Be careful. You blew it twice already.
She took a deep breath and quickly rehearsed the discussion she’d planned to have with Luc. For a change, she worried more about the frigid status quo with Luc than her daughter’s feelings about her prospective great-grandfather.
Olivia forced herself to walk toward them and beamed as Luc stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes literally devouring her. Heat pooled in her stomach.
How she loved this man.
Let’s go the French way with the three kisses. She followed the little gymnastics of his Adam’s apple and softly swayed toward him to kiss him three times on the cheeks. His healthy masculine scent and a whisper of lime enveloped her. She let her lips linger on the freshly shaven skin, reveling in its warm peachy feeling.
Even frozen in place, Luc was the epitome of masculine elegance in his gray suit and red striped tie, worn with a traditional white shirt. Her first salvo had hit the target. He kept staring.
She dazzled him with her most charming smile and played her professional role for Tom’s benefit. “Dr. Toulon-Chatel, I’m glad you asked me to be here to help.”
“Pardon?” His gaze skating over her décolletage, her world-renowned-psychiatrist lover appeared in mental shock and definitely in need of a lung specialist to help him breathe. He’d probably forgotten about their plot.
“Dr. Crane,” Tom said. “Luc told me you wanted to be present. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your concern for my health. But rest assured I’ll be fine. This is the happiest moment of my life.”
“Please, have a seat, Tom.” Marianna acted the perfect hostess. “Luc dear, can you serve the drinks? Luc?”
“Yes. Right away.” His eyes narrowed as he recovered and strode to the credenza-bar.
When everyone was seated with a glass, Marianna passed a tray of hors d’oeuvres. A door opened and closed, like a gong in the sudden silence. Tom stood, and they followed suit, Luc stepping immediately next to the old man.
Melissa appeared at the entrance of the living room in a red pantsuit, her blond hair cascading down her back, as pretty as a picture.
Tom stared at her, smiled and whispered, “Her?”
“Yes,” Olivia said as Luc nodded.
“Thank you, Lord. This lifelong doubting Thomas will believe in miracles from now on,” the old man mumbled.
“I told you, you will not be disappointed,” Luc said.
“Good evening, sir. I remember I met you at the university,” Melissa politely said. She frowned, her gaze flipping from Luc to Olivia, silently questioning.
Olivia crossed her hands. Please, let her be happy.
Tom cleared his throat.
“How do you feel?” Luc asked him with concern.
“I’m fine. Can you tell her?”
“Tell me what?” Melissa asked.
“Mr. Rutherford has a surprise for you.”
“Yes?” She smiled and sat beside the old man.
“I...I...” His gaze pleaded with Luc to continue.
Olivia nodded.
Luc crouched in front of them and put Melissa’s manicured hand in the wrinkled one. “Melissa, meet your great-grandfather, Thomas Rutherford.”
“My...” All gazes fixed on Melissa as her eyes and mouth rounded. Disbelief, surprise, and joy washed over her face. “Oh my God, Mister Ru...Grandpa?”
Tom Rutherford hugged his pretty great-granddaughter against his heart. Olivia’s eyes filled with tears, and Marianna sniffed as the old man couldn’t seem to let go of Melissa.
Luc straightened and walked to her chair. “Mission accomplished. Everyone is in good health and in need of another drink.”
Mission accomplished? Not for Olivia. Not yet.
Time for round two.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Olivia collected two plates and chose an assortment of pâtés, stuffed mushrooms, cheeses and spinach strudels. She gave one plate to Tom and the other to Melissa. “I think we’d better leave the two of you to get acquainted.”
Bless Marianna. She’d outdone herself tonight.
“I’d like that very much,” Tom said. “But first, Dr. Crane, let me thank you for your courage in allowing me to meet my great-granddaughter. You did a mighty fine job raising a lovely, well-adjusted, young lady.”
Olivia’s heart overflowed at the credit he gave her in front of Melissa. “I appreciate your compliment, sir.” She still couldn’t get herself to hug him. “We’ll give you some privacy. Luc, let’s go out to the back porch.”
Marianna took the hint and padded to her haven, a contented smile on her face. “I’ll be in the kitchen decorating the torte.”
Now that Melissa’s emotional welfare was under control, Olivia needed to concentrate on her own. And Luc’s.
“Why the porch? It may be cold for you.” His gaze darted to the jade pendant framed by her cleavage.
She arched her eyebrows.
He drew back at the challenge. “Nom de Dieu, what is this new game?”
“I need to talk to you.” She was done with seduction. “Call it a last psychiatric session.”
“You can come to the Crisis Center tomorrow.”
“Damn it, Luc. They need privacy.” She waved toward Melissa and the old man and smiled. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
He loudly exhaled. “You have always been a stubborn woman. Fine. Let’s go out.” He grabbed the bottle of Cognac and two clean glasses, and gestured for her to precede him.
On their way out, Olivia pulled a silk shawl from the closet and handed it to Luc. He deposited the bottle and glasses on the little wrought iron table next to the porch swing.
“You expect that frilly thing to keep you warm?”
Judging by his labored breath and rigid stance, that frilly thing was singeing his skin as he fingered the silk. And it certainly burned her flesh when he smoothed it over her back, and his hands lingered on her shoulders.
It was cool outside, but Olivia was too unnerved to feel the chill. Dark shadows of m
assive cedar trees danced on the endless grass, sporadically lighted by the half moon.
“Start,” Luc said after handing her a drink and swallowing his.
Olivia sipped the burning liquid. Warmer and stronger, she tiptoed around a safe subject. “First, tell me how is it going at CUH?”
He shrugged. “McMillan arrived last night. He had a great time at Berkeley and is ready to lead his department again. Are you going to miss your acting-chairman position?”
She scoffed. “It’s the least of my concerns at the moment.”
“That is what I thought. While driving here, Tom told me Jeremy has been arrested.”
Her jaw dropped, but relief jolted through her. “You can’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to hear he’s out of the way. Unable to harm Melissa, or me, or other women.”
“He will be attended by the prison psychiatrist. Anyway I was about to ask for a replacement. As you can guess, I’m no longer impartial enough to handle his case.”
She wanted to hug him for telling her the Jeremy nightmare had finally come to an end, for siding with her and relinquishing that case for fear of being biased. “I understand. Thank God, I’ll be able to sleep at night without waking up in a cold sweat.” An inner peace filled her.
“You want another drink?” Luc asked, interrupting her musing.
“No, thanks.” She indicated the space next to her. “Please sit.” She emptied her glass and set it next to the bottle of Cognac on the table.
As much as he craved her touch, Luc dropped onto the opposite corner of the cushion and the swing swayed under his weight.
A languorous melody emanated from the kitchen window. Elvis Presley’s It’s now or never.
How appropriate. Luc almost snorted at Marianna’s old-fashioned taste in songs.
Should he try to convince Olivia one last time that she belonged with him? Now? Right away?
“Luc, I love you.”
Air whooshed out of his constricted throat at the barely audible words. Words he’d been waiting to hear for a month. Fingers crossed in her lap, she focused her beautiful eyes on him.
“Is it true, Olivia? Is it true this time?” He put his hand on her arm. She was shaking. Trying to read her soul, he captured her gaze. Why was he hesitating to take her in his arms and kiss her and tell her he would always love her?