Something in her heart crumbled. “Oh Ash…you can’t…”
“I can. Because I don’t want the fame. I don’t want the money. I don’t want the success. They don’t mean anything if I don’t have the one thing I truly want. And that’s you.”
Her eyes prickled, her throat getting even tighter. Oh God, please don’t cry.
Ash released her all of a sudden. And then to her utter shock, he fell to his knees right in front of her. “I know you don’t want the fame or the money, or the success. So all I have left to give you is me. Ashford.” He stopped, his chest heaving. “You asked me how long back in your apartment. Well, how does forever sound? Lizzie Kent, will you marry me?”
His figure swam before her eyes. There were a whole lot of people standing around staring at them, some of them spilling out of the staff room to see what was going on.
But she wasn’t conscious of any of them. She saw only him, on his knees in front of her. Giving up everything he was for her. Giving her forever.
“Ash…,” she croaked out, forcing the words. “Oh, Ash, I can’t let you do that.”
Anguish glittered in his eyes. “Please, Lizzie. Please don’t leave me this time. Come with me. We’ll go away if you want. Far away where the press can’t find us. I don’t care where it is, as long as you’re with me, I’ll be happy. “
She could do that. Let him give up everything for her. But she knew she wasn’t going to. He’d taken a step toward finding a balance for them both, now it was her turn to meet him.
Could she do it, though? Was she strong enough to bear the weight of the past catching up with her again? Well, if he’d found the courage to give up everything he was for her, she would find the courage to bear whatever it took to be with him now.
She took a step toward him, then gently took his face between her hands, looked down into his eyes. “I can’t let you throw away your entire career, Ash.”
He took her wrists in his fingers, circling them. “But…if I don’t give that up, what else do I have to give you? How else can I make you stay?”
Her throat ached. “You don’t have to do anything else. It’s a two-way street, Ash. And it’s my turn to give something to you.”
“What?” He’d gone very still.
This time when the tears filled her eyes, she didn’t blink them away. “Let me be your date.”
“What?”
“Take me to the premiere.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “But there will press there.”
“I know. You were willing to give up your whole career for me, Ash. It’s time I gave up a little something for you.”
For a second he just knelt there, staring at her. Then slowly he got to his feet. “Lizzie, you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Of course I do.”
“But why?”
There was only one reason. And it had been sitting inside her heart for a while now, except she hadn’t wanted to see it. “Why do you think, idiot? I love you.”
The look on his face became brilliant, like the sun coming out on a cold winter’s day. “Lizzie.” Her name was a hoarse murmur. Then he reached for her, pulling her close and bending his head to kiss her, his mouth hot and demanding and hungry.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding the heat of him against her. She didn’t know how this was going to work between them, but somehow, in some way, it would work. They would make sure of it. Because she didn’t want to have to give him up, never ever again.
The sound of applause came from around them and when Lizzie finally came up for air, she saw that most of the staff of Seacliffe and not a few patients were watching them, grinning like idiots.
How completely embarrassing.
Ash’s eyes glittered as he looked down at her. “We’d better go in that case. I’m pretty late already.”
And that was when Lizzie realized something. She looked down at herself. “I guess I can’t go in scrubs, right?”
“Oh, I can help you with that,” someone said.
Within about five minutes, Lizzie found herself bundled into the room of one of the clinic patients, a well-known soap star with a romantic streak a mile wide, who’d watched Ash’s declaration with teary eyes. The woman fished out of her spectacular wardrobe a tight-fitting, shimmery silver dress that Lizzie was amazed to discover more or less fitted her. The actress, who’d apparently learned a trick or two from her wardrobe mistress, then produced some pins and a needle and thread and before Lizzie knew it, the dress was pinned and sewn to fit her even better.
Makeup was procured, another patient roped in to help apply it, while one of the nurses who was a wiz with hair did a bit of magic with Lizzie’s dark tresses.
Even Helen came to help, offering a pair of silver stiletto sandals that she didn’t wear anymore. Luckily these were a perfect fit.
Eventually, feeling primped and preened to within an inch of her life, and not a little bit like Cinderella, Lizzie found herself walking down the clinic steps on Ash’s arm.
“Betty?” she exclaimed as she surveyed their method of transport. “We’re going on Betty?”
“I was hoping to ride off with you into the sunset, not ride up to the theater.” He held her tight. “I could arrange for a limo if you want.”
“No.” She turned to look up at him. “Actually, I couldn’t think of anything better than turning up to a premiere on Betty.”
Ash touched her cheek gently. “Are you sure about this? There’s no going back, you know that.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sure.”
“What about your job?”
“Being with you doesn’t mean I’ll stop being a nurse. I’ll just have to find another way of doing it. There’s lots of ways I can help. In fact, maybe being a little bit famous might be just what I need to help even more people.”
He smiled. “God, I love you. But you sure know how to make a guy feel inadequate.”
Lizzie laughed. “Good. You could use feeling inadequate a bit more.”
Ash bent and kissed her, his arm tightening around her waist. And she had to hit him on the shoulder to get him to stop. “Come on, we’ll be late. And I don’t want to smudge my lipstick.”
“Hey, before we get there, just so you know, no matter what happens with the press, I’ll be with you. I’ll protect you.”
Lizzie smiled. “As long as we’re together, I think I can deal with anything.”
…
They rode straight up to the theater, Betty’s rumbling engine drawing the crowds that had started to drift away. TV cameras and reporters milling around the theater entrance began to turn in their direction. People were pointing, then came the shouting and the calling.
“It’s Ash!”
“Mr. Kincaid? Ash?”
“Mr. Kincaid, where have you been?”
“Nice publicity stunt, Ash!”
Ash ignored them, parked the bike, and got off. Then he held out his hand to Lizzie.
Her heart was beating so hard. So fast. Her stomach churned. She slid off the bike and luckily didn’t stumble. But then his arm was around her waist, his strong presence at her side. And all of a sudden it didn’t matter. The press, the people. The stares. The attention. None of it mattered. Because the only thing of any importance was him. As long as he was here, she could handle anything.
They began to walk up the red carpet, Ash smiling. Waving to the crowd. A reporter rushed up to them, microphone at the ready. “Mr. Kincaid!” It was stick-thin woman from the TV. “We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
Ash gave the woman his trademark sexy grin. “Uh, yeah. I had to stop and pick someone up.”
The woman turned and looked at Lizzie. “And do we get to know the name of the lucky lady?”
Ash opened his mouth but Lizzie put a hand on his arm and he glanced down, one eyebrow raised. She met his gaze. This was one thing she wanted to do herself. He seemed to understand because he smiled at he
r, a smile so full of tenderness it made her heart ache.
She took a breath then reached for the microphone. “You can call me Lizzie.”
“Nice to meet you. And can I ask what your relationship is to Mr. Kincaid?”
Ash had gone quite still. “You never answered my question,” he murmured.
She knew exactly what question he meant. Lizzie smiled at him. “My relationship to Mr. Kincaid? Actually, he’s my fiancé.”
The woman’s eyes just about popped out of her head. “Fiancé? Is this true, Mr. Kincaid?”
But Ash wasn’t looking at the woman, he was looking at her. “Yes,” he said softly. “’I cannot live without my life. I cannot live without my soul’.”
The reporter opened her mouth for another question, no doubt to ask what that meant, but Lizzie knew. It was one of the parts of Wuthering Heights she knew by heart.
Ignoring the reporter completely, Ash turned and took Lizzie’s chin in his fingers, tilted her head back. When he kissed her, a thousand camera flashes went off, lighting up the street outside the theater.
But Lizzie didn’t even notice.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Dr. Jax and my lovely girls for their handling of a stressed writer/wife/mother in the middle of deadline hell. You guys have put up with a lot. Never think I don’t appreciate all you do for me.
Also thanks to the grandparents for helping out with the kid stuff. That, too, is much appreciated.
Lastly, Google, for all your research help, I thank you.
About the Author
Jackie has been writing fiction since she was eleven years old. Mild-mannered fantasy/SF/pseudo-literary writer by day, obsessive romance writer by night, she used to balance her writing with the more serious job of librarianship until a chance meeting with another romance writer prompted her to throw off the shackles of her day job and devote herself to the true love of her heart—writing romance. She particularly likes to write emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just gotten the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines.
She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, two kids, two cats, and some guppies (possibly dead guppies by the time you read this). When she’s not torturing alpha males and their stroppy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, posting random crap on her blog, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband.
You can find Jackie at www.jackieashenden.com or follow her on Twitter @JackieAshenden.
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