Surgery? Radiation? Chemotherapy? Cancer’s not the death sentence it used to be. I know there’s no guarantee, but Bree can’t just do noth—”
His mouth was a hard line as he cut her off. “She won’t even consider anything at this point.” His voice was strained and ironic when he said, “She’s pregnant. Just about ten weeks.”
“Oh, Dirk...” Juliana looked at him helplessly, knowing the DeWinters had been trying for a baby almost as long as she’d known them. Very few people knew they’d pursued every avenue no matter how slim, even in vitro fertilization, with no success. Until now.
“When Bree heard the doctors say surgery can cause a miscarriage, she said surgery was out until the baby is born,” Dirk said, reaching for stoicism. “When she heard chemotherapy isn’t considered safe for the baby until the pregnancy is at least fifteen weeks along, she said chemo wasn’t an option right now. And radiation treatment has to wait until the fetus is ‘viable.’ I asked Bree’s doctors what the hell that meant, and they told me it means when the baby is far enough along to survive outside the womb—at least twenty-one or twenty-two weeks.” His face twisted in agony. “I told her...” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I told her I didn’t care about the baby. All I care about is her. I want my wife, damn it! I would sacrifice our baby in a heartbeat if it meant saving Bree. But she won’t even discuss it with me.”
“She loves you,” Juliana said softly, compassionately, understanding Sabrina’s dilemma, and her choice, in a way that Dirk obviously didn’t. Her own life? Or the life of the child she desperately wanted to give the man she loved? “So what are you going to do?”
“As soon as this picture wraps I’m taking Bree away. I don’t know how much time I have left with her, but I want every minute, every second. She’s mine until God takes her away from me, and I’m not going to waste a moment acting in some meaningless picture. We don’t need the money. Even if we did, no amount of money could make it up to me for the time away from her.” His face hardened. “And the minute she gives birth she’s having surgery and going into chemo. I don’t give a crap about bonding and breastfeeding, and all the other Holy Grail things of motherhood. I’m not giving her up without a fight no matter what. I can’t force her to sacrifice her baby, but—”
Juliana’s administrative assistant came over at that moment. “They’re ready for you on the set, Juliana. And you, too, Mr. DeWinter.”
Maddie cast a shy, adoring look at Dirk, one Juliana knew she had no idea was so obvious. So young, she thought sadly. So vulnerable. Just like I was once upon a time, wearing her heart on her sleeve. At least with Dirk she’ll never think he loves her. Not like I—
She refused to let herself complete that thought. “Thanks, Maddie,” Juliana said kindly. “Come on, Dirk.” She took his hand in hers. “Let’s go make love like there’s no tomorrow.” I think we can both understand what that feels like.
* * *
The man picked up the phone and dialed a number he’d been forced to memorize. “Nothing in writing,” the Russian had insisted. As he listened to the ringing on the other end, he told himself he had no choice. Juliana was no more immune to Andre now than she’d been eleven years ago—her reaction when Andre appeared on the set was a dead giveaway. To him, at least. As was Andre’s reaction to her. So he would not let himself feel regret over what had to be done to safeguard his secrets. Juliana had brought this on herself. As had Andre.
* * *
Andre and his cousin Zax walked alone in the royal garden, watching silently for the most part as the sun set behind the mountains, casting long gray shadows over them both. Although they usually spoke their minds when they were together with a freedom they’d exercised since boyhood, now they guarded their innermost thoughts from each other. And Andre mourned what increasingly seemed to be the loss of the confidant he’d always relied on, especially since becoming king.
There was no man he trusted more than his cousin, but Zax was a traditionalist. The old ways were good enough for him, and he deplored many of the sweeping changes Andre was implementing. No matter what position Zax took in private, though, no matter how much he opposed what Andre proposed, in public he never said a word in criticism of the king. “The king has spoken” was Zax’s usual reply to any reporter who dared to ask Zax’s opinion on a new policy he disagreed with. The equivalent of “No comment,” Andre thought now will a rueful smile.
He cherished Zax’s loyal support in public, just as he cherished his cousin’s friendship. He just wished they didn’t clash so often in private these days. And though at one time he’d confided his hopes and dreams about Juliana to Zax—something he’d recently confided to his sister, Mara, but to no other man—they hadn’t spoken of Juliana since she’d returned to Zakhar to film King’s Ransom other than to discuss the security surrounding her.
Not once had Zax asked Andre if there was any progress in the campaign to win Juliana’s heart. Not once had he expressed empathy for the difficulties he knew Andre faced where she was concerned. And though Zax was not a man to display his emotions—he was too old-school Zakharian for that—not once had he shown by word or deed that he cared one way or the other if Andre was successful.
Not once. And Andre didn’t know what to make of it.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
