Almost To The Altar Page 19

  “Yes. I finished earlier than I expected. When I heard about Nikki, I came straight over.”

  “Nikki.” The mist cleared from her eyes. “I need to call the hospital.”

  Wil glanced at Parker. He was watching Elise with a hungry expression in his eyes that made Wil’s chest hurt. With measured precision, he set his coffee mug down on the counter. “I think maybe I should go, now,” he said. Looking at Elise, he added, “You’ll call me if you need anything?”

  She stared at him for several seconds, then slowly nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

  “All right.” He went into the bedroom to collect his shirt and jacket. When he returned, dressed, Elise was on the phone with the hospital. Wil extended his hand to Parker. “Take care of her,” he said.

  The other man seemed to understand the implied message. He took Wil’s hand in a firm grip. “I will. Thank you.”

  Elise was still on the phone, so Wil pressed a kiss to her forehead, mouthed, “Goodbye,” then left the apartment.

  She hung up the phone with a soft click. Nikki’s condition hadn’t changed. Cautiously she glanced at Parker. He was studying her with an indecipherable expression on his face.

  She sat down, reached for his hand, then exhaled a long breath. “Welcome home.”

  “I’m glad to be home.”

  “I guess we should talk.”

  “So,” Parker said, after long seconds had passed, “what do you want to talk about?”

  Elise gave him a slight smile. “You’re a nice man, Parker.”

  “I try.”

  She stared at her mug of coffee. “That’s why I can’t keep doing this to you.”

  He took her hand in his and waited until she looked at him. “Why don’t you let me go first?”

  “Because I’m the one who should be doing all the talk-!!ing.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m more used to having my own way.”

  With a self-deprecating smile, she said, “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

  “That’s true.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling despite the grim tone of the conversation. “I’ve always been too good for you.”

  “And you’re modest, too.”

  “Incredibly humble. Did I tell you about the book I’m writing. I’m going to call it Humility, and How I Attained It.”

  Elise laughed. “Sure to be a bestseller.”

  “Elise,” he said, his expression turning serious, “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I’d have to be a fool not to notice the way Wil Larsen looks at you. The way you look at him. I saw it first at the garage, then that night of Alex Devonshire’s charity benefit at the Art Institute.”

  Elise felt her skin flush. “Parker—”

  He held out his hand. “I think I was aware of it long before you were. When I left for Bangkok, I knew something was wrong. Each time I’ve spoken with you over the last couple of weeks, you’ve been edgy and distracted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The heart has a way of doing that to a person.”

  “Still, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Elise leaned forward to cover his hand with her own. “Please believe that. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know you didn’t. And the truth is, I think I always knew we weren’t going to make it down the aisle.”

  “You did?” Her eyes widened.

  “Yes. I wanted to believe we could work it out, but somehow, I knew you had doubts.”

  “I wanted to marry you, Parker.”

  “I know you think you did, but you didn’t love me.” Before she could protest, he said, “It’s all right, Elise. I can be a little hard to love.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Thanks for the defense.”

  “It isn’t. You’re a wonderful person. If I had half a brain in my head, I’d have fallen for you like a ton of bricks.”

  “Even if my parents are obnoxious.”

  She smiled. “Even if.”

  “But you didn’t, did you?”

  Elise winced. “No,” she admitted. “I didn’t.”

  “You can’t choose who you’re going to fall in love with, Elise. If you could, I’d have picked Georgette Duvet.”

  With a slight laugh, Elise said, “Never trust a woman named after a bedspread—that’s what I always say.”

  “Nevertheless, her father could have done wonders for my career.”

  “So instead of poor Georgette, you picked me.”

  “That’s right. I fell in love with you, Elise. I fell harder and faster than I’ve ever fallen in my life.”

  “Oh, Parker…”

  “But you didn’t love me back.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “That means a lot to me.”

  “It’s true. I—If it hadn’t been for Wil, I would have married you. I would have made it work.”

  Parker shook his head. “Elise, I don’t want the woman I marry to feel like she has to work at our relationship. I want her to love me as much as I love her. You couldn’t give me that.”

  She felt the tears begin to sting her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she told him again. “I’m just so sorry.”

  With a gentle smile, Parker reached for her left hand. “You know,” he said, “I never liked this ring.”

  “You didn’t?”

  He rubbed his thumb on the surface of the large diamond. “Nope. Too splashy. It wasn’t really your style at all. You didn’t like it, either, did you?”

  “I never said that.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I might have picked something smaller.”

  He grinned at her. “And less ostentatious.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Definitely. In fact, I think it makes your hand look wrinkled.”

  “Parker.” She frowned at him.

  Ignoring her, he continued to study the ring. “You should have had a white diamond and not a yellow one.” He pointed to her knuckle. “See how it makes your skin look sallow.”

  “It does not make my skin look sallow.”

  “Hmm… Still, I think you’d be better off without it.” He finally met her gaze. “Don’t you?”

  Her heart warmed at the light in his eyes. “I guess you’re right.”

  Slowly he removed his ring from her finger. He slipped it into his jacket pocket, then reached up to caress her face. “Elise, don’t let him get away from you this time.”

  “I’m not suie I have him to begin with,”

  “You do. I can tell.”

  “You don’t understand. There are things—”

  “I understand more than you think I do. I know that until you face and deal with the rift with your father, you’re always going to be guarding your heart. He hurt you very much, just like you hurt him.”

  “I didn’t-”

  “Elise,” he said, his voice insistent, “let me say this. It’s time you realized that you can’t walk around keeping people at arm’s length so they can’t hurt you. That’s a very lonely way to live.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “Yes, you do. You lost Mais. You lost your dad. You lost Wil. You’re scared to death of losing anyone else. It’s no wonder you’re wiped out today. I’m sure the thought of losing Nikolai was terrifying for you.”

  “He almost died. Anyone would have been upset.”

  “Of course. But were you angry at him, too?”

  She looked at him, stunned. How could he know? Understanding showed in his intent gaze. “You know,” she said.

  “I know. You were angry because you thought he was going to leave you. It’s all right to feel that way. Nobody can tell you what to feel. You just need to learn that if you’re going to keep anyone from getting close to you, you’re going to be lonely for the rest of your life.”

  The tears began to fall. “This is going to sound like a really obnoxious thing to say, but that’
s amazingly astute for a man.”

  His gruff laugh pleased her. Parker rarely laughed. She was glad she could give him that. “One thing about growing up with wealthy parents, you get to spend a lot of time in therapy.”

  She sniffled. “You’re one of the most psychologically healthy people I know,” she told him. “God knows you’ve got me beat hands down.”

  “I just know that falling in love with you gave me some insight into how you think.” He stuffed a napkin into her hand. “Now, do you want me to give you a ride to the hospital, or would you rather I drop you off in Valdona on the way?”

  She managed a watery smile. “Don’t I get to drive my-!!self?”

  “Absolutely not. You’re too tired to drive, and besides, this is my last act of proprietary dating.”

  “And you have the better car.”

  Again he laughed. “And I have the better car.”

  She pushed her hair back from her face as she stood. “You know,” she told him, “if I don’t have much else to be proud of, at least I had the good sense to get engaged to you.”

  “You have a lot to be proud of. I hope you’re going to recognize that one day.”.

  With a watery smile, she said, “Let me just change my clothes.”

  “Take your time. I’m not going in to work until the day after tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think it will take me that long.”

  With a brief shake of his head, Parker waved her toward her bedroom. “Just promise me one thing, okay, sweet-!!heart?”

  “Name it.”

  “Invite me to the wedding. I need an excuse to ask Georgette for a date.”

  Wil scraped vigorously at the stained varnish on the tulipwood Hispano-Suiza roadster, using the physical exertion to take his mind off his growing frustration. After two attempts to get him to talk, Jan had finally given up and disappeared into the small office that flanked the garage.

  The radio was pumping out big-band music, but today Wil barely heard the normally calming instrumentals. Instead, he kept thinking about Elise holding on to him.

  Images of what it had felt like to touch her, to kiss her, of her wonderful, intoxicating textures, filled his mind. He recalled the husky sound of her laugh, the same one that curled his toes. He remembered what she’d looked like when he danced with her. How she’d smiled at him. How she’d cried in his arms.

  The expression in her eyes when she’d seen Parker Conrad sitting in her kitchen.

  His scraping tool slid over his knuckles and tore the skin. “Ow! Damn it!” He popped the knuckle into his mouth to suck the blood from the cut.

  “Careful, grease monkey,” came a soft voice from the door. “You might need that hand later.”

  Wil jerked his head up to see Elise standing in the garage. As if in slow motion, he pulled his finger from his mouth. “Elise.” His voice was a breathy sigh of disbelief.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  She seemed nervous. She glanced at the roadster. “Is this a bad time? Because if it is, I could—”

  “No.” Wil dropped the paint scraper into his toolbox. “It’s not a bad time. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Oh.”

  A nerve-racking ten seconds passed while he stared at her. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t seem to make his brain function. He’d assumed that she’d spend the day at home, then go in to the hospital, and that he wouldn’t have to confront his demons until he had time to adjust. Caught off guard, he wasn’t sure what to do. “Where’s Parker?” he asked, as if he cared.

  “Home. He dropped me off.”

  “I see.”

  Elise began to fidget with the hood strings of her cotton windbreaker. “I, uh, just wanted to stop by and thank you again for everything you did last night.”

  “No problem.” Move, you idiot, his brain warned him. His feet remained glued to the floor.

  “You didn’t have to do that. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, seeing my parents and all. Not after… Well, it just couldn’t have been easy—”

  When her voice broke on the last word, Wil finally snapped out of his trance. “Ah, Elise,” he said as he walked across the floor to hold her. “It wasn’t particularly easy for you, either. Was it?”

  With a muffled cry, she sagged against him. “No.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “You know, we say that an awful lot,” he said. “You think we’re going to spend the rest of our lives saying we’re sorry to each other?”

  “We are if we keep acting so stupid.”

  A warmth like a rising sun spread through him. Wil continued to hold her, not yet willing to relinquish the exquisite feel of her in his arms. When she moved to break the embrace, he tightened his hold. “Not yet, Aina. I’m not through.”

  Her arms closed around his waist. “I’m glad. I’m not really through, either.”

  With a sad smile born of the realization that the time had come to talk about Maks, Wil rubbed his face against her hair. “Are you on your way to the hospital?”

  “I told Mama I’d relieve her tonight. I don’t have to be there until seven.”

  His eyes darted to the wall clock. It was after five. He couldn’t delay it any longer. With a reluctant sigh, he draped his arm across her shoulders, then led her to the door. “Come on. Why don’t you come home with me until it’s time to leave?”

  Neither of them spoke during the short walk to Wil’s house.’ Both of them seemed to know that the air was too clouded to allow for any idle chatter.

  With a strange sense of detachment, he led her through the front door. He’d resisted bringing Elise here, knowing that he’d find it difficult to handle the ghosts that would remain long after she left, but now he realized that the ache in his soul would persist with or without the physical memory of Elise’s presence.

  When she was seated at the kitchen table, he said, “Do you want anything? A soda or something?”

  Elise shook her head. “I’m all right.”

  “Have you eaten today?”

  “Parker made me eat a sandwich before he brought me over here.”

  “Good. I know you don’t feel like eating, but you’ll be glad you did later.”

  He pulled a bottle of root beer from the refrigerator, then took the seat across from her. “Elise,” he said, “I have some things I need to tell you, things I’m not sure you want to hear, and—”

  “Look, Wil,” she said, interrupting him with an agitated flick of her wrist, “if it’s about what happened last night, I don’t want you to worry about it. We both went a little crazy. No explanations are required.”

  “That’s crazy, and you know it. I owe you a whole hell of a lot more than an explanation.”

  “I just don’t want you to feel that you’re obligated in any way, because you’re not. I know this is awkward for you. I know how you feel about my parents, and I realize that you can’t possibly…”

  “Elise…”

  She ignored him, continuing on with her tirade. “… be expected to take sides. It wouldn’t be fair if I…”

  “Elise.” His voice was more firm.

  “… tried to manipulate you into something you weren’t comfortable with. And I certainly don’t feel that you ought to-”

  “Jeez, Elise, will you shut up for a minute?”

  Stunned, she stared at him, “What?”

  “Shut up. Are you going to let me get a word in edgewise, or are you just going to explain to me how I feel?”

  “I wasn’t trying to do that.”

  He winced at the slightly stung expression on her face. “Aina,” he said, his lips curving into a hint of a smile, “it’s okay. Sometimes I think you do a better job of explaining to me how I feel than I do of explaining it to myself.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. Everything you said to me at the Rack Room the other night was true. I’m the one that pushed you away.”

  �
�You were?”

  “Yes. I had to. I know you don’t understand that, but I had to. I did then, and I do now.”

  Her gaze dropped quickly, too quickly. He suspected she’d shifted her focus to the tabletop so that he couldn’t read her hurt. “I broke my engagement with Parker this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “I—After last night, I thought—”

  “Don’t say it, Elise. It’ll make it worse.”

  “Make what worse?”

  “What I have to tell you.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  Not nearly as much, he thought, as he was scaring himself. Slowly he allowed the memories to take control. “The day I met you, you were six years old, and you were cry-!!ing.”

  “Maks had broken my doll carriage.”

  “I fixed it.”

  “I remember.”

  “You gave me this adoring look, like I’d just found the secret to world peace.”

  “Sibling peace, anyway.”

  “And I wanted you to keep giving me that look. It was weird. I wanted you to look up to me more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. I don’t think I knew then how lonely I was. My mother died when I was so young. It was just Pop and me.”

  “I never did stop looking up to you.”

  “I know.”

  “I never even went through the same phases my friends went through. I never noticed other boys, because I never stopped looking at you.”

  “I knew that, too. For a while, I tried to pretend that I thought you were a pest. Maks liked it better that way.”

  “You were very convincing.”

  He laughed. The warm chuckle warmed a part of her soul. “Maybe part of me did think of you that way. I was uncomfortable, and embarrassed about how I felt for you. I didn’t want to tell Maks that I wanted you to idolize me.”

  “Don’t all men want women to idolize them?” she quipped.

  “Not when the men are fifteen and the girls are twelve, they don’t.”

  “I guess not.”

  “So I kept it to myself. It was fairly easy then. I really thought of you like my younger sister, someone I wanted to protect. When Maks died, it seemed so natural for me to step into that role.”

  “I thought you were stuck there forever.”

  “Sometimes I thought so, too.” Pausing, he studied the neck of his root beer bottle. “I especially thought so around the time you turned sixteen, and I found out I couldn’t look at you like a brother anymore.”