The Man She Almost Married
Page 24
It was as if the desperate intensity in his voice stemmed the flow of her tears. “I’m...fine now.” She used an unsteady hand to swipe the tissue at her swollen eyes. “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay with me just because—”
“I love you, Julia. I love you so much that I can’t bear to think about losing you.”
She stared at him, her dark lashes spiked with tears. “You loved me before, and you still left.”
He nodded. “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past four days. And I came to realize a few things.” He reached up, tucked a wave of unruly dark hair behind her ear. “When I came back three months ago, I had myself convinced it was because of the business with the new wing company. I know now I came back because of you.”
“I’d just gotten engaged...”
“That’s what brought me back—knowing you no longer belonged to me. That I’d lost you forever.”
She blinked. “You didn’t call. You’d been here three months, and you never called.”
“I lost count of how many times I picked up the phone and started to dial your number. Eventually I would have let the phone ring.” His mouth tightened. “Then Vanessa died, and fate ran us headlong into each other again. From that moment on, I was a goner.”
An ingrained wariness crept into her eyes. “I can’t do this again, Sloan. I can’t go through this twice in one lifetime.”
A knot of panic settled in his gut at the thought of her sending him away. “You have my word I won’t walk away again,” he said, tightening his hold on arms that seemed too thin. Paper-thin. “Seeing you hurt made me realize that our lives can change in the next instant. The next heartbeat. If you’re willing to take me back, we have another chance at happiness. Another chance at love. I love you, Julia. I have since the first moment I saw you.”
She stared up at him, her hair a dark, vivid frame against her pale skin. Her eyes flashed fire, despite the tears that still swam in them. “Another chance, Sloan? Does that mean you’ll stay with me only as long as you’re healthy? If it does, I’m not interested.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He shifted onto one hip, slid a small box out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. “I want you for a lifetime, Julia. No matter what that lifetime brings. Marry me, Jules.”
She remained motionless, staring at the box in her trembling hand.
Sloan reached and opened the lid. The enormous, pearshaped diamond flashed in the morning sunlight.
“My ring.” She looked up. “I mailed this back to your office after you left.”
“It’s been in the safe there all this time. I called Elizabeth and had her send it over.” Sloan wanted to slip the ring on her finger, restake his claim. Instead, he reached over and stroked her hair with an unsteady hand.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“If you need time to think things through, I’ll wait.” He placed a soft kiss against her temple. “I’ll wait as long as I have to. I’m all yours,” he added, “whether you’re wearing my ring or not.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she said, her dark brows sliding together. “I don’t know what to do about a wedding. How can I plan a wedding when I can barely stay awake two hours at a time?”
“Don’t even consider it, Julia.”
Julia and Sloan turned their heads in unison at the sound of Georgia’s voice.
“Mother! How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear everything.” Georgia marched into the room. In her olive suit with brass buttons and gold braiding on the sleeves, she had the look of a general about to harangue the troops.
She stopped directly in front of Sloan, hands crammed on her hips. “My daughter should be resting.”
“I agree.” He turned back to Julia, plucked the ring out of its velvet nest. “I love you, Julia Cruze. Will you marry me?”
She nodded. Tears reappeared in her eyes as she held out a shaky hand.
“We’re getting married,” she managed after a moment, and flashed the ring her mother’s way.
“No need to restate the obvious, dear,” Georgia said as she stepped to the bed and dropped a kiss on Julia’s forehead. The woman took a deep breath. When she raised her arm to pat at her expertly styled coiffure, the charms on her heavy gold bracelet jingled like Christmas bells.
“Well, Julia, you want a wedding, so that’s what you’ll get.” Georgia reached, smoothed her hand over the sleeve of the coral robe. “You leave everything to me, dear.” She then turned slowly to face Sloan. “I think it’d be best to get the unpleasantries out of the way first thing.”
He remained on the edge of the bed, Julia’s hand firmly ensconced in his own. “Have your say, Georgia.”
“My family has gone through hell because of you, Sloan Remington. And now you’re going to pay.”
“Mother—”
“Quiet, darling.” Georgia held out her palm toward Sloan and jiggled her fingers. “I hope your credit limit is in the clouds, because this is going to be one hell of a wedding.”
The gleam of acceptance in Georgia’s eyes curled around Sloan’s heart as he rose and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You’ve got carte blanche.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed her a gold credit card. “Anything goes.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “Be careful, Sloan. I said the same thing to Mother once, and got a bedroom straight out of the Arabian Nights.”
He looked down, gave her a quizzical smile. “Arabian Nights?”
Julia nodded and grabbed her mother’s hand. “Nothing elaborate, Mother. I just want something simple—”
“We’ll have the ceremony at Sloan’s house,” Georgia said. “Outdoors on the grounds. It’s the perfect setting for a lovely little ceremony. Very quaint.”
Julia gave her a wary look. “Little and quaint sounds fine.”
“Just leave everything to me,” Georgia said as Sloan’s credit card disappeared into her pocket.
Epilogue
If Georgia Cruze knew the meaning of “little and quaint,” she ignored it. Construction workers descended on Sloan’s house, erecting an immense framework across the expanse of manicured lawn. Before the sawdust settled, a team of decorators moved in, using hundreds of yards of white silk to create a canopy that draped from the framework’s center and waterfalled in soft folds down each side. Truckloads of white roses added their heady scent to the already vast, blooming gardens. Guests packed the tented wonderland, sitting on velvet-cushioned chairs swaddled in clouds of white netting. The soft, evening breeze fluttered the folds of white silk as the harpist switched to the wedding march.
Julia, clad in her mother’s antique-lace bridal gown and exquisite veil, walked down the orchid-strewn aisle on her father’s arm. As they moved, she acknowledged the fluttering in her stomach and trembling in her legs. She knew these latest symptoms weren’t a result of her brush with mortality. The weakness that assailed her had begun when she first glimpsed Sloan standing at the altar, looking darkly handsome, as if he’d been born to wear the elegantly tailored tux.
The wedding march ended in the harp’s soft, dreamy notes. Julia kissed her father’s cheek, then turned and slid her hand into the crook of Sloan’s arm. He stared down at her, his intimate gaze filled with love.
The police chaplain said a prayer, then began the ceremony.
Hours later, Julia’s head was still spinning when Sloan carried her up the stairs of Remington Aerospace’s corporate jet. Keeping her securely in his arms, he strode the forward part of the lush cabin.
“I can walk,” she protested, but kept her hands looped firmly around his neck.
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck if a man fails to carry his bride over the threshold?” He settled her onto a plush sofa, then tucked her into the pillowed corner.
“I don’t think the door to a plane counts as a threshold,” she said. Glancing out the window, she caught sight of the last of their luggage being loaded into the plane�
��s belly.
She looked back at Sloan. After leaving the reception with its tables laden with food and fountains of champagne, he had changed into a dark-gray suit and discreet tie. Julia glanced down, having no idea if the short black cocktail suit her mother had picked out for her was appropriate for their destination.
She reached for his hand. “You know, this is my honeymoon, too. Don’t you think it’s time you told me where we’re going?”
“I have no idea.”
Her eyes widened. “Who does?”
“Your mother and the pilot.”
“You let Mother pick out where we’re spending our honeymoon?”
Sloan nodded, pulled off his jacket and draped it across one of the thick, upholstered chairs. “She asked me to let her do that as a favor. I said yes.”
“Did she return your credit card?”
“No.”
Julia leaned back on the cushions and groaned. “Pick out the most expensive spot in the world, and that’s where we’re going.”
“If this is how Georgia thinks I should pay for my mistake, so be it.” Smiling, he leaned and clicked the ends of Julia’s seat belt together. “I don’t mind,” he said, placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, “as long as we’re together.” He settled beside her, fastened himself in, then leaned and flipped on an intercom. “Ready.”
Julia sat silent during takeoff, wondering what it was that had suddenly begun nagging at her mind. Only when they were airborne did she figure it out.
“Wait a minute.” After unlocking her seat beat, she scooted across the cushion onto Sloan’s lap. “You said you’re letting mother make you pay for your mistake.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “So?”
“Mistake. You’re admitting you made a mistake when you left me?”
His hands rose, framed her face. “The biggest one of my life. We lost two years that we’ll never get back.”
Julia smiled, her love for him blissfully overpowering. “Then we’d better start making up for lost time.” She glanced around the cabin. “Are there any flight attendants lurking?”
“Not on this trip. I intend to wait on you hand and foot myself.” He arched a dark brow as she leaned and nipped his bottom lip. “Don’t you think you ought to—”
“Dammit, Sloan, I’ve been out of the hospital almost a month. If you so much as mention the word rest, I’ll shove you out of this plane.” She tugged at his tie, slipped it from beneath his collar and tossed it aside.
Her mouth took on a seductive curve as she attacked the buttons of his shirt. “Just because we don’t know where we’re going shouldn’t stop us from starting our honeymoon.”
He smiled as his nimble fingers slid her jacket off her shoulders. “Whatever you say, Sergeant.”
Later, as the jet streaked through the dark sky, Julia lay drowsy and sated in her husband’s arms. She raised her head, gently stroked her fingers across the scar that sliced down his stomach. She had her own scar now, not yet fully healed. “In sickness and in health,” she murmured softly.
Sloan cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly tracing the curve of her lips. “In sickness and in health.”
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6542-4
THE MAN SHE ALMOST MARRIED
Copyright © 1998 by Margaret Price
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books. 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Why hadn’t he just stayed away?
Letter to Reader
Books by Maggie Price
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Copyright