advice. She wanted more than that. Much more.
“You’re here to see if they can be separated.”
It wasn’t a question, but Lucy nodded.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can help.”
“Don’t say no. Please. I trust you. I trust your skills as a surgeon. You have to examine them at least. I’ve already made arrangements for their travel. They’ll be arriving by chartered plane tomorrow evening.”
His eyes narrowed, moving from the picture to Lucy’s anxious face. “You took a lot for granted.”
“Yes. Yes, I did. I don’t want just anyone to operate on them. I want the best. Someone I can trust.”
Nick fought the warmth that followed her statements. He found it incredible that after everything that had happened between them, she still felt she could trust him.
Yet she hadn’t trusted him enough to marry him.
“Please say you’ll consider my request, Nick. That’s all I ask.”
Nick knew in his gut that he should refer her to another surgeon altogether, but he held back. There was only a handful of pediatric specialists in the country who might be willing to take on an assignment like this.
But as he confronted the hope shining in her eyes, he admitted that his reasons for resisting weren’t entirely professional.
Nodding his head, Nick reluctantly agreed. “I’ll do a cursory evaluation when they get here, but I can’t make any promises about surgery. Not until I’ve seen them.”
Relief flooded her eyes, darkening them to a rich mossy shade. It was those eyes—which changed from icy sage to rich green with her emotions—that had first drawn Nick’s attention so long ago. Lucy had once told him she’d never been any good at lying because she couldn’t keep her gaze from revealing her true state of mind. Nick was glad to see that moving from one hot spot in the world to another hadn’t changed that.
Unable to keep back the words, he murmured, “It is good to see you, Lucy.”
She suddenly became aware of the palm she’d laid on his forearm. When she would have backed away, he cupped his hand beneath her chin, holding her face up to the light.
“Are you happy?”
He didn’t know what had made him ask, but he waited tensely, half dreading her answer. For all he knew, she might reveal that leaving him had been the best thing she’d ever done.
Ignoring his question, she released herself and said, “I’ll let you know as soon as I have the twins’ exact arrival time.”
“Fine.”
Knowing Lucy meant to leave, Nick held the picture out of her reach. The expression on her face was so similar to the one she’d worn seconds before she’d darted out of the courthouse five years ago that he experienced a rush of déjà vu.
“Don’t go yet. I need to know some specifics on the children so I can check into things at the hospital.”
She frowned. Obviously, she dreaded the thought that he might delve into their past relationship. In an attempt to reassure her, he pointed toward his office. “We can talk in there.”
She preceded him slowly into the room. As he followed her, Nick wondered why he’d been so insistent on making her stay.
Because you’re a fool, that’s why.
IT WAS CLOSE TO ten o’clock when Lucy shut the hotel room door behind her, then sagged against the panels.
In her career as a foreign correspondent, she had interviewed kings, potentates and dictators. She’d grilled criminals and mercenaries. But never, ever, had she endured a more uncomfortable two hours.
Summoning what little strength she had left after days of traveling by jeep, bus and airplane—all the while preparing for her upcoming confrontation with Nick—she peeled off her jacket, kicked off her shoes and fell onto the bed face-first.
Sleep. She needed sleep. Perhaps then, she wouldn’t cringe when she thought of her embarrassing reaction to the man. It was a testament to her mental weariness that she hadn’t been able to control her body’s wayward response.
Heaven only knew there was no reason for her to have behaved in such an adolescent fashion. At thirty-six she was too old to grow weak in the knees at the sight of a man with whom she’d once been intimately involved. She should have left as soon as he’d agreed to look at the girls. But something had caused her to linger.
As if she’d been waiting…
For what? For the conversation to become more personal? For a familiar glance? A touch?
Groaning, she pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. Perhaps the most surprising moment of the evening had come when Nick offered her the use of his guest room. Naturally, she’d refused. Staying at his home would have been too…unsettling. Too dangerous.
Sleep. She needed sleep. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep should be enough to shake off her strange reaction to an old relationship.
Lucy pushed herself up, dragged her suitcase to the foot of the bed and located an oversize T-shirt. Minutes later, she had taken the fastest shower on record and climbed between the sheets.
But the moment her head touched the pillow, her mind began replaying the evening’s events. Even more disturbing, her body ached with an unmistakable sensual awareness—one she’d sworn she wouldn’t feel again.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Lucy made herself remember all the reasons she’d ended her relationship with Nick years ago.
At the time, Lucy had still been a struggling graduate student intent on becoming a reporter. She’d known that making it to the top of her field would require constant travel, unyielding stress and overt danger. Such a lifestyle would never mesh with Nick’s. His profession as a surgeon would entail remaining in one place and leading a life dominated by his own challenging schedule.
But even as she’d insisted that this was why she couldn’t marry him, she’d been aware that there were deeper reasons. Reasons she hadn’t fully understood herself, let alone been able to explain to Nick. It had taken her years to understand that part of her motivation for remaining alone and working so hard had been to escape all vestiges of her childhood.
When Lucy was asked how she could tolerate living in a war zone, she was often tempted to tell people that she’d grown up in one. For as long as she could remember, Lucy had felt as if she were a hostage in her own home. She was an only child caught in the battleground of her parents’ loveless marriage.
George Devon had been a stern, critical man for whom nothing was ever good enough. He’d ruled his wife and his daughter with an iron hand, dictating what they would wear, what they would eat, how many pennies they would be allotted for their personal needs. He’d demanded immediate and complete obedience.
But George wasn’t the only person at fault. Although he’d ordained himself taskmaster of her parents’ relationship, her mother had become the self-appointed martyr.
Lucy
