Harlequin Presents January 2015 Box Set 1 of 2(131)

“Are you crazy?”

“Edward!” I cried helplessly.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Get off the runway!” The man, who must have thought I was having some kind of pregnancy-related breakdown, half pulled, half carried me back to the hangar. Winded and weak and grief-stricken, I let him.

Edward was gone. I’d lost him forever, because I’d been too much of a coward to fight for him, believe in him, when it counted. I’d let him believe that he could never earn my love, no matter how hard he tried....

Choking out a sob, I covered my face with my hands.

“I love you,” I whispered brokenly, sinking to the concrete floor as I said the words I’d been too scared to say to his face. “I love you, Edward....”

“Diana?”

Hardly daring to believe, I looked up.

Edward stood outside the open garage door. Bright California sunshine burnished his dark hair. His face was in shadow, his posture uncertain. He’d changed from his tuxedo to a T-shirt and jeans, and his hands were in his pockets.

On the airstrip behind him, I saw his jet, with the propellers still slowing down. The engine was loud, a blast of white noise. Was he a miracle? A dream? I wiped my eyes, but he was still there.

“You came back....” I gasped. Rising to my feet, I stumbled across the hangar.

“I saw you,” he breathed, his eyes hungry on mine. “And I was crazy enough to hope....”

Hiccupping a sob, I threw my arms around his shoulders. “You came back!”

“Of course I did.” He held me close, caressing my back. I felt the warmth and strength of his body, smelled the woodsy scent of his cologne. He touched my cheek with a fingertip and said in a voice so tender and raw it twisted my heart, “But you’re crying.”

Taking his hand in my own, I pressed it against my cheek, looking up at him with eyes swimming in tears. “I thought I’d lost you.”

I could feel him tremble. Then he exhaled.

“It’s all right, Diana,” he said quietly. “You can tell me the truth. If you’re trying to be loyal to me for our baby’s sake...”

“No!”

“I need you to be happy.” He looked away, dropping his hand to his side. “I told myself I could marry you even if you didn’t love me. That I could earn you back, and make you love and trust me again, over time.”

“Edward...”

“But I can’t be the man who takes away the light that’s inside you. I can’t. I can’t condemn you to being my wife when you don’t love me. When you might love someone else.” Looking away, his jaw tightened as he said, in a voice almost too low for me to hear, “I love you too much for that.”

“You love me,” I breathed.

Edward gave a low, choked laugh. “And for the first time in my life I know what that means.” He looked down at me. “I would do anything for you, Diana. Anything.”

“Even sell your shares of St. Cyr Global to your cousin.”

He looked started. “How did you know?”

“I called Victoria.”

“Why?— How?”

“I saw her going into your house last night.”

“You did?”

I hung my head. “You were acting so weird and secretive. I went back to ask you what was going on. Then I saw her going into your house so late, wearing that dress, and I thought the two of you...”

“What!” He blinked in astonishment. “You thought me and Victoria...”

“I was so scared of getting hurt again,” I whispered, feeling ashamed, “I took the first excuse to run. I’m sorry.”

His expression darkened. “When I think of how I treated you in London, I don’t blame you.” He stroked my cheek. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty, or feel like you were under obligation, because I’d made some kind of sacrifice.... Because you were right. I hated that job. I hated the man it made me. Now I’m free.” He gave me a sudden grin. “In fact, there’s nothing to stop me from coming with you to Romania, as I’m currently unemployed....”

Reaching up, I put my hands over his. “I don’t want to go.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I thought being an actress was my big dream. But I never wanted to audition.” The corners of my mouth quirked. “There was a reason. Whatever my brain tried to tell me I wanted, my heart stubbornly knew it wanted something else entirely.”

He pulled me closer, running his hands over my face, my hair, my back. “What?”

I thought of my mother, and the life she’d lived. Hannah Maywood Lowe had never been famous or celebrated. People who didn’t know her would have thought her quite ordinary, in fact, not special at all. But she’d had a talent for loving people. Her whole life had been about taking care of her friends, her home, her community, and most of all, her family.