Their whispered conversation had died some time ago. Now they were all sitting in a silence that was broken only by the soft beeping of the machines watching over Tommy.
Layla’s thoughts inevitably turned inwards again. She was still trying to catch that elusive thought glowing, tantalisingly, just out of reach. Her gaze was on Tommy’s face but she wasn’t really seeing him or thinking about him. There was just a background sadness that a such a young, much-loved child could be in such a situation. Children were so vulnerable. So trusting …
That was it.
Layla dipped her head, closed her eyes and held her breath as she finally caught the thought. It was the way Alex had looked when she’d opened her door the other night. When she’d been able to see everything that was Alex Rodriguez. Everything about the man that she’d wanted to wrap her heart around. To love.
Had she seen the brilliant surgeon? The breathtakingly gorgeous man that turned every female head? Yes, of course, she had.
But she could see past that as well. To a frightened, lonely child who was afraid to love because people that he should have been able to trust had hurt him.
He hadn’t even been trying to hide anything at all.
And that had to mean that he did trust her. Or could. Maybe all he needed was reassurance but what had Layla done when he’d told her it was over? Stayed out of his way. Like she had after Jamie had died because she’d felt so guilty and hadn’t known what to say.
Well … she knew what to say this time.
And she’d been right. That elusive thought offered hope.
Letting her breath out slowly, Layla opened her eyes to find herself looking at Mike. And, weirdly, the warmth of hope that was seeping through her veins like a potent drug to reach every cell in her body seemed to be contagious. Mike still looked completely exhausted but his chin wasn’t on his chest any more. He was looking straight ahead and he looked completely stunned. Blinded almost.
Gina had caught it, too. Her mouth was open and she was also staring straight ahead.
At Tommy? What were they looking at?
Very slowly, Layla turned her own head. Her heart missed a beat and then thumped so loudly she could swear she heard it.
Tommy’s eyes were open.
The little boy blinked. Once … twice. His mouth opened and then closed. And then it opened again.
‘Dad?’ The whisper was a hoarse croak. ‘Is it over now?’
Mike’s outward breath was a barely controlled sob. He had to fight for control as he leaned down to kiss Tommy.
‘Yes, buddy. It’s over now.’
Staff came running as the monitors tripped alarms due to the unexpected increase in activity. Layla helped with the initial assessment but just as his coma had been inexplicable so was this return to consciousness. He was still very drowsy but could be roused easily now. There was no sign that he might slip back into the coma.
‘Somebody needs to find Rodriguez,’ one of the ICU doctors said. ‘He’ll want to know about this.’
‘I’ll page him,’ a nurse offered. But she came back a short time later and shook her head. ‘He’s not answering his pager or his mobile. Apparently he left word that he was going to the ball for a while but would still be able to be contacted. I guess he can’t hear his phone.’
‘I know where it is.’ Layla was already heading for the door. ‘I’ll find him.’
The venue was within walking distance and Layla got there within minutes. She couldn’t wait to find Alex. To tell him about Tommy, of course, but more than that. Much more than that, she had to find out if the hope she was feeling about her future had a real basis. If Alex could trust her.
Could love her as much as she knew she loved him.
She entered the huge space through a doorway draped with black curtains and guarded by ghosts that had been made by white sheets draped over helium balloons so that they floated convincingly overhead. It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t going to be easy to locate Alex.
There were hundreds of people here and she couldn’t even see anybody she recognised because they were all disguised in an astonishing array of costumes. Not only that, the only lighting was coming from Jack-o’-lanterns on the tables and the music was loud.
Layla stood still for a minute or two, getting accustomed to this very odd atmosphere. There were groups of people standing talking, lots of people dancing and some were grouped around tables that had black coverings cluttered with wineglasses and platters of snack food. She could see ghosts and devils, clowns and fairies, a Frankenstein and a skeleton. An extraordinary couple dressed as Adam and Eve walked past her, wearing pink skin-tight body suits with fig leaves attached in appropriate places.
‘Wow,’ Eve shouted with laughter. ‘You’ve come as a doctor. Very cool.’
It took Layla a moment to click and then she groaned aloud. She’d rushed out of Angel’s so fast on her quest to find Alex that she hadn’t bothered to take off her white coat. In this dim lighting she probably stood out as much as that man in the flashy white suit who was coming towards her. He had cowboy boots on, too, and a white Stetson hat a mile wide.
‘Hey, darlin’. You’ve come to join the party, then?’
‘Ty …’ It was a huge relief to recognise someone. ‘Hey, you make a good Texan tycoon.’
‘I’m just tryin’ it on for size. Might use this for my weddin’ outfit. You’ll be coming, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will. Have you seen Alex tonight? I’m trying to find him.’
‘Who’s he come as?’
‘He doesn’t do dress-ups.’ He’d said that, hadn’t he? She’d thought he was trying to tell her that what was happening between them was real.
It was. It still could be.
‘I have to find him, Ty. It’s really important.’
‘I saw Ryan a while back. He might know. He’s a pirate.’
‘Layla, hi …’
Chloe looked adorable as Wilma Flintstone in her ragged-hem dress, a necklace that looked like it was made of out golf balls and a bright orange wig that matched Brad’s ‘Fred’ costume.
‘Have either of you seen Alex?’
‘He’s right behind you. See?’
Layla whirled round. There were three men right behind her. Dressed identically.
The three musketeers were all roughly the same height. They all had the same black trousers tucked into boots, white shirts with flowing sleeves and tabards with a Celtic cross on the front and a cape attached at the back. They all had shoulder-length, curly black wigs, huge hats with ostrich feathers in them, masks and pencil-thin moustaches.
Three peas in a pod but only one of them was looking back at Layla with an intensity she could feel right down to her bones.
‘Alex …’ Layla couldn’t tell if he could even hear her with this background noise. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Hey, Layla.’ She recognised Cade’s voice. ‘This is some farewell party, isn’t it? Glad you could make it.’
Layla nodded. Smiled, even, but she couldn’t look away from Alex.
‘You don’t look like you’re here to party.’ The third musketeer turned out to be Jack Carter. ‘Everything OK, Layla?’
‘It will be.’ Layla felt absurdly close to tears. ‘Alex … Tommy’s woken up.’
‘What? When?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. Alex grabbed Layla’s hand and pulled her after him, heading for the doors. Away from the crowds and crazy costumes and all the noise. Out into the night with the trees of Central Park casting huge shadows in the light from the streetlamps. They were heading back to Angel’s, still hand in hand.
Suddenly Alex stopped. ‘Tell me,’ he commanded. ‘Tell me everything.’
It took no time at all to bring Alex up to speed on Tommy. Layla expected him to take off again. To go and see for himself that what she was telling him was true.
But he didn’t. He let out a long, slow breath, closed his eyes and pulled Layla into his arms to hold her
very tightly.
‘Thank God,’ was all he said.
A car horn sounded loudly beside them and Layla could hear some ribald shouting. Even in New York it was probably an odd sight to see a musketeer embracing a doctor. Alex caught the gist of the comments and stepped back with a wry smile.
‘You’re lucky you’re not in a stupid costume,’ he said.
‘I don’t do dress-ups,’ Layla reminded him quietly. ‘I’m not into pretending to be someone that I’m not.’
She held his gaze. ‘I’m not going to live a lie or follow a script. Things are different now, Alex.’
He was listening to her words but was he hearing what she was trying to tell him?
‘It’s not just that Tommy’s woken up and he’s going to be OK that I had to come and find you tonight. I know you think you can’t trust me because of what I did last time but things are different now.’
Alex was still holding her hands. Did that mean something good?
‘I’m not trapped any more. I’m not in a marriage that was never right. I’m not feeling guilty or scared. I’m free and I get to choose what I want and … and I want you, Alex. I … I love you.’
He was staring down at her. Frowning. ‘But you were scared. I could see it when Mike was asking about Tommy. You looked like … you’d stopped believing in me.’
Layla shook her head sharply. ‘Yes, I was scared. Scared of losing you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it now.’
She still believed in him.
She loved him?
The news about Tommy was a huge relief but this … this was way bigger. So big that words had deserted Alex. It was Layla who broke the new silence between them.
‘I thought you didn’t do dress-ups, either.’
‘I don’t.’ Alex wanted to rip the hat and wig off his head but that would mean letting go of Layla’s hands. ‘I thought I wanted to be someone else for a while, that’s all.’
‘Oh …’ She understood that he’d wanted to step out of his own skin to get away from everything that was happening in his life. He could see the fear in her eyes again. Fear that she really was going to lose him?
‘But I was wrong.’ The words came easily now. From a place deep inside his heart. ‘I don’t want to be anyone else. Not even for a minute.’
‘Because of Tommy?’
‘No. Because of you.’ Alex dipped his head so that he could kiss her and the soft, welcoming touch of her lips was all he needed to know that this was right. So right it felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. ‘I love you, Layla. I always have. And if I was someone else I wouldn’t have you in my life, and I’m not going to waste another single minute of that.’
‘There’s a lot of minutes in every day.’ Layla was smiling. ‘And in every night. Can we go and visit Tommy now and then maybe go home?’
‘Oh, yeah …’ But Alex didn’t want to move quite yet. ‘How many minutes in a week are there? In a month? In a year?’
‘Not enough, I reckon.’
Alex had an odd lump in his throat. ‘Would a lifetime of minutes be enough?’
Oh … he could drown in those eyes. In the love he could see. A love that he wanted to claim. To return. For ever.
‘Marry me,’ he whispered. ‘Please?’
It seemed to be Layla’s turn to be lost for words. But she was nodding. And crying?
Layla Woods didn’t cry. Unless …
She was scrubbing her tears away. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she told him. ‘I’m just so happy … as happy as a clam at high tide. Yes, Alex. I would love to marry you. As long as you don’t wear that outfit to our wedding.’
‘I won’t, I promise.’
‘Or a white suit.’
‘It’s a deal.’
Laughing, and still hand in hand, Alex and Layla set off again. Walking towards Angel’s.
Towards their future.
All the 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 the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
First published in Great Britain 2013
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Harlequin Books S.A. 2013
Special thanks and acknowledgement are given to Alison Roberts for her contribution to the NYC Angels series
eISBN: 978-1-472-00312-6
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Copyright
NYC Angels: An Explosive Reunion Page 15