Читать книгу A Love Worth Waiting For - Jillian Hart - Страница 11

Noah turned off the ignition in the church’s packed parking lot. Lord, please let this engagement be right for Nanna. He wanted nothing more than the absolute best for his grandmother, but with his opinions of marriage…well, what if she were making a mistake?

The possibility that she might sell her land and that Harold Renton, no matter how kind he looked, could strip Nanna of her sizable financial assets burned like a sickness in Noah’s stomach.

Please, let this man she’s marrying be good enough for her. Noah wished he could stop worrying, but since he’d accumulated his own sizable fortune, he’d learned how far ruthless people would go to get their hands on easy money. Even people who looked perfectly nice and who had perfectly nice relatives.

Sitting in the stillness of his grandmother’s sedan, he felt no reassurances. Snow beat on the windshield and the wind buffeted the side of the car, driving the cold in. Even through the lacy accumulation on the windshield, he could see that the church hall was lit up like a Christmas tree, decorations visible in the windows.

It looked like the party was in full swing, and that meant it was about time for him to make an appearance. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to stay long. He’d greet his sister, congratulate his grandmother and hit the road. There were a lot of women in that room, judging by what he could see through the window.

His stomach blazed with anxiety. Since his last romantic disaster years ago, he avoided most social situations. He’d learned the hard way there was no such thing as true love. He had his own fortune to protect.

Well, he couldn’t sit in the car all evening.

A blast of cold air lashed through him when he climbed from the heated interior. At least the ice storm had tamed into a peaceful snowfall. White flakes tumbled all around him, accumulating quickly on the freshly shoveled sidewalk. His shoes slid, but he managed to make it to the door okay.

The chorus of “Blue Moon” drew him down the well-lit hall, and the warm blast from the furnace chased away the chill from outside. His stomach still burned. He decided to ignore it.

“Hey, stranger.”

Heels tapped in the corridor behind him. He spotted Julie Renton closing in on him.

She tossed him that dazzling smile of hers as she looked him up and down. “You sure clean up nice.”

“So do you.” Very nice. She looked dynamite in an off-white gown with long, slim sleeves and a narrow waist. The skirt flared softly around her to skim the floor. Classic. “I’ve come with a peace offering.”

“I didn’t know we were at war.”

“Maybe we should call it a limited skirmish. Over you wanting to protect your grandfather.” He tugged the small plastic box from his jacket pocket. “I didn’t know what was appropriate, but when I saw white roses, I thought of you.”

She took the box in her slim hands. Surprise made her sparkle. “A corsage. I’m speechless.”

“Lucky for you, no words are necessary.” He opened the top of the plastic container and lifted the single rose, wrapped in baby’s breath and a silk ivory ribbon, from its bed. He withdrew the pin. “Remember the promise you made me?”

“What promise?”

“To save me a dance.”

Okay, so he was a lot nicer than she first thought. Julie couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she held the collar of her dress so he could pin on the flower. It smelled lovely, sweet and soft.

It was perfect and thoughtful. She never should have judged this man before she met him.

He fumbled with the pin. So, he wasn’t experienced at corsage pinning. Neither was she. She held her breath, aware of their closeness.

“This is trickier than it looks,” he confessed with a lopsided grin. “There. I think that should do it.”

She glanced down. “I like my peace offering. Does this mean I should give you something? Isn’t that expected in peace time negotiations?”

“I’m holding out for that dance you promised me.”

“What am I going to do with you? A man who brings gifts and likes to dance?” She slipped her arm around his, liking the friendly, solid feel of him. “I suppose I could agree to your terms, but it’s going to cost you more than a flower.”

“Fine. I can afford it.” He opened one of the double doors. “Name your price.”

“If you want to dance with me, then you also have to dance with my two good friends.”

“Friends. I should have known.” He didn’t seem offended as he guided her through the room. “Playing matchmaker, are you?”

“Against my better judgment,” she admitted, because it made him laugh again. “They begged and pleaded.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he agreed pleasantly, scanning the crowded room. “You did a great job, Julie. I’m sure my grandmother is pleased.”

That meant a lot, coming from the only billionaire in the room. From the man who’d given her a corsage.

“There’s Nanna.” He nodded in the direction of the dance floor. “It’s good to see my grandmother happy.”

There was no doubt he meant it, and that he loved his grandmother. Julie knew just how that felt. Her heart ached at the sweet sight of her granddad and his grandmother swaying to the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes as if they’d found true love.

True love. She knew from firsthand experience exactly how rare that precious gift was. She prayed her grandfather would know nothing but joy for the rest of his days. “They’re a perfect couple. They light up from inside when they’re together.”

“They make you want to believe.” He held out his hand, palm up, as the piano belted out the first strains of “Strangers in Paradise.” “Remember our deal?”

“How could I forget?” She placed her fingers on his palm, featherlight.

A sharp sensation wedged hard beneath his sternum and stayed there. He ignored it, closed his fingers over Julie’s and led her through the tables to the area in front of the band. It was hard to miss all the people turning in their seats to watch him pass. He tried not to think about it or the sharpness in his chest.

Just stress—that’s what it was. He’d take a deep breath and… Pain pierced his sternum, as hot as fire and razor sharp. He missed a step, and Julie’s grip on his arm tightened.

“Noah, are you all right?”

He was still standing, but he felt like a fool, so he kept dancing. “Yep. Just overwhelmed by my dance partner’s beauty.”

“Good try, but you can’t fool me.” Her fingers remained a firm presence on his arm. She squinted up at him, narrowing her pretty eyes, as if she wasn’t about to be tricked by the likes of him. “You need to sit down before you fall down. You’re breathing funny. Are you having any chest pain?”

“It’s my weak ankle, that’s all.” He didn’t want her to know the truth. “It’s an old polo match injury.”

“The fib would have gone over better if you’d used a baseball game instead of polo. You keep forgetting. You’re in Montana now.”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “It’s hard to forget where I am with so many Stetsons around.”

“Not your typical Lower Manhattan attire, huh? Watch out. If you stay here too long, you’ll be wearing a hat and boots and learning to ride.”

“I’m heading back to New York first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You work on Saturdays?”

“Sure. Got a busy week to look forward to.” He was already starting to feel better. Maybe the pain was going to go away now.

She allowed him to pull her close—not too close—and whirl her to the Frank Sinatra tune. She’d almost made him forget the pain. Almost. It returned in a sharp lash through his chest, doubled in intensity.

Breathe deep. It will go away. At least, he was praying it would. “Really, I’m fine.”

Julie froze in his arms. “That’s it. Something is wrong. You look practically gray. You’re sitting down. Now.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Probably just the clean air out here. I’m not used to such purity.” I refuse to be sick. I’m not sick. Please don’t let me be sick, Lord. Not at Nanna’s party.

“You and your excuses. Unfortunately for you, I’m a teacher. I’m immune to them.” Julie frowned and pressed her hand to his forehead. Her skin was cool and soothing. “I also have lots of practice with sick kids, so I can recognize the signs.”

“I’m no kindergartner.” Okay, now he was getting annoyed. “I don’t get sick.”

“Everyone gets sick now and then.” With the way she bit her lip, she looked as if she was trying not to laugh. “Fine, have it your way. Come with me. I’m feeling sick.”

Well, if she was feeling ill, he’d go along with her. “Maybe you need some fresh air, too.”

“How did you know?” She was teasing him now, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Miss Julie Renton seemed far too sure of herself as she hauled him out the back door and into a dark room.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised like the angel she was, disappearing through the door, leaving him alone.

The tightness in his chest was worse. Much worse. He just had to breathe deep. Relax. This was stress, that was all. It had to be. He was too young to have a heart attack, right?

Blade-sharp pain sliced from back to front, leaving him panting. He tugged loose his tie and popped the top buttons on his shirt. This is only stress. Just a lot of stress. So that meant he could will the pain away….

The door swung open, and warm air spilled across him where he sat on the concrete floor, clutching his chest. He saw Julie’s eyes widen and the shock on her face, then the door slammed shut, leaving them alone in the empty room.

She sank to the step next to him and pressed a plastic cup in his hands. “You’re not looking so good.”

“Then I’m looking better than I feel.” The punch was sweet and cold. It tasted great, but didn’t do a thing for the pain in his chest. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to do anything. He set the cup on the step behind him.

“I’m going to go fetch Dr. Corey.” Julie’s touch on his shoulder felt like a rare comfort. One he wouldn’t mind hanging on to.

“No doctor.” He cut off a groan of pain. Sweat broke out on his face. “This isn’t anything.”

“Sure, you mean, the way a heart attack isn’t anything?” She slipped the tie from beneath his collar. “Let’s get you lying down.”

He caught her by the wrist, holding her tightly so she would understand. “I’m not having a heart attack.”

“If you want to stay in denial, fine.” She pulled a worn blanket from a nearby shelf. “There’s a doctor on the other side of that door. I won’t be gone a minute.”

“Don’t leave, Julie. It’s not a heart attack.” At least, he thought it wasn’t. “It’s some kind of stress thing. I’ve already been to the emergency room over this.”

“Same symptoms?”

He nodded, pain hitting him like a sledgehammer. It left him helpless, struggling to breathe. He hated this.

Julie’s cool fingers pressed the inside of his wrist. “You swear that you’re not going to die on me?”

“Didn’t last time.”

“Great. That’s comforting.” She shook the blanket out and draped it over his shoulders. “I’ll go get your grandmother.”

“Don’t tell Nanna.” He choked on the words. The air in his lungs turned to fire. He couldn’t say anything more. He couldn’t tell her how important this was. To keep this secret from his grandmother. Please, he silently begged.

“What am I going to do with you if you have a heart attack on me?” She said it as though he was bothering her, but he could see the fear tight at her mouth. The worry furrowed lines into her forehead. “I should go get the doctor, call the ambulance and make them wheel you out of here.”

“That would ruin my grandmother’s party.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t see it that way.”

“I don’t care. You’re not calling anyone.” More pain spliced through his chest. He leaned his forehead on his knees. His palms felt clammy. Just like last time.

He flashed back to last week. To being trapped in the emergency room, the monitors beeping, voices above him blurring, the ceiling tiles too bright and his fears too enormous.

The same fears whipped through him now. “Please.”

What was she going to do? Julie knew she had to get him help. How could she go against his wishes? She understood exactly how important his grandmother was to him. “Can you make it to the parking lot?”

“I will make it.” His hand found hers and squeezed.

She felt the need in his touch. Strong and stark, as if he had no one else to turn to. Maybe he wasn’t used to relying on others.

She knew how that felt.

She helped him up. When he couldn’t straighten, she almost pushed him back down. He needed a doctor. Now, not later. But he took one limping step out of her reach. He was one determined man. His back was slightly stooped and his shoulders slouched from the pain. His face was ash-gray.

The poor man. Julie grabbed the heavy back door before he could, and pushed it open. The wind roared in, snatching the blanket from his shoulders.

She caught hold of the wool and smoothed it back into place. A fierce desire took root in her heart, one she didn’t understand. She needed to take care of him, to make sure he came through this all right. She’d give Misty or Susan a call and ask them to take care of things. The party would go on just fine.

All that mattered was this man at her side. The one who seemed so alone.

She knew how that felt, too.

Noah swore hours had passed, but he’d been watching the clock on the pickup’s dash so he knew it was exactly seventeen minutes later when Julie pulled into the well-lit driveway. The red flash of ambulance lights glowed eerily in the snowfall. Pain seized him up so tight he could only breathe in little puffs.

Noah was dimly aware of a cold gust of air when she opened the door. She called out to someone by name, and the next thing he knew he was being hauled from the passenger seat and laid on a gurney.

He searched for Julie, but couldn’t find her. Strangers’ faces stared down at him as the world around him blurred and the gurney bumped over the concrete and through the electric doors. The ceiling tiles flashed above him like lines on a highway.

I don’t want to be here. I’ll do anything, Lord, if I can come out of this all right. I’ll work less. I’ll eat better. I’ll take a vacation. I’ll listen to my sister. I’ll do everything my grandmother says. Just get me through this.

He knew he was bargaining. Pain roared like an erupting volcano in his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do. He only wanted the pain to stop.

More strangers crowded around him. A needle pricked his arm. Cables tugged at the skin on his chest. Monitors beeped too fast, or it sounded that way. He worried about that, too.

We need to run some tests, the doctor back home had told him. But there had been meetings that couldn’t be delayed, deadlines that had to be met and a business to tend to.

It was easy to put off a few tests, because a lot of people depended on him for their jobs. Jobs that made their lives better. That was important, and the attack he’d had was due to stress, so it was nothing to worry about.

Now he wasn’t so certain.

As the people worked around him, grim and efficient, he had to admit it. Something was wrong. He couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Your EKG looks good.” The doctor jotted something down on a clipboard. “We need a few tests.”

Relief left him feeling numb. That meant it wasn’t a heart attack, right? He’d been fairly certain it wasn’t—it hadn’t been last time. But the pain had been so fierce, he’d started to wonder. It was probably just stress again. He would stop working on weekends maybe and get more exercise. That ought to take care of it, right?

A light tap of heeled shoes sounded on the tile floor near the door. Julie? He hoped so. This place was feeling lonely, and he wouldn’t mind seeing a familiar face.

The shoes hesitated on the other side of the blue curtain, then a chair rasped against the floor. “Sarah,” a stranger’s voice said to someone else on the other side of the curtain on the other bed.

Noah stared at the partition. So, it wasn’t Julie. He wasn’t disappointed, really. He didn’t mind being alone. She’d probably become bored and went back to the party.

That was okay. Alone was his choice. It was much better than the alternative. He believed that with his whole heart. All he had to do was remember his parents and their marriage. Their fighting and their constant discord.