Nicole Jordan (34 page)

She paused, shrewdly eyeing Caro. “Perhaps you should endeavor to speed up the process. Turn your attention immediately to someone else. There are several gentlemen on the island who would vie for your favors, if you would only permit them. Of course, any liaison would need to be handled discreetly.”

It was Caro’s turn to be taken aback. She couldn’t believe that the woman who had been like a second mother to her was advising her to engage in an affair. “You are suggesting that I take a lover?”

“Exactly.”

“Isabella!”

“Don’t act so shocked, dearest. You are grown up now, and a woman of your age and vitality has needs, no matter how you might try to deny them. I fully understand, trust me on this. I know what it is like to live without a man in your bed, how utterly lonely it can be. I am only surprised you never permitted yourself to indulge before now.”

Giving a brief shake of her head, Caro looked away. She wanted no other man. Max had spoiled her for anyone else. And she knew in her heart that she would never take any other lover.

Isabella must have sensed her feelings, for she continued in a speculative tone. “Mr. Leighton was deeply disturbed at having to leave you behind during my rescue. And he was like a caged lion until you reappeared safely. I think that shows how much he cares for you.”

“More likely it shows merely that he felt responsible for me. He was in command of the mission at that point, and he failed to save me. After what he experienced in war, he cannot stomach the thought of having any more blood on his hands.”

“Yet on the ship, when I caught him gazing at you, his eyes fairly smoldered with passion. He is quite enamored of you, Caro, I have no doubt. Indeed, his desire seemed so ardent, I found myself hoping it would lead to something more than an illicit affair. Marriage, perhaps.”

“He did propose,” Caro said in a low voice. “But I refused.”

Isabella’s eyebrow rose, but she waited patiently.

“He was merely trying to be noble,” Caro insisted. “He only offered because he believed he had compromised me.”

“That does not explain why you refused,” Isabella prodded gently.

“Because I couldn’t bear for him to be forced to wed me. Nor did I want him to feel compelled to join the Guardians. I once hoped he would. I was certain that if he accompanied us on our mission, he would see the good we do and would choose to become one of us. But after what happened in Barbary, I no longer believe that is the right choice for him. I don’t want him to be trapped here, in a life that would only bring him pain.”

“So what is to prevent you from settling with him in England? I know Cyrene is your home…how much you love it here. But would you refuse to leave if it meant losing your cherished lover?”

No,
Caro thought silently, her throat constricting with the ache of tears. She wouldn’t refuse if it meant losing Max. She had only recently come to that realization.

Max was more important to her than her beloved island. More important than her medical vocation. More important even than her remaining a Guardian. She would live anywhere with him—if he wished her to. But would he ever wish her to?

“What
do
you feel for your Max?” Isabella asked. “Is it possible you love him?”

It was indeed possible, Caro thought despairingly. She loved Max with an intensity that frightened her.

For weeks now she had denied her feelings, refusing to admit the staggering truth to herself: she had lost her heart to Max long ago. During their first magical night together, in fact.

Perhaps it had even been inevitable. How could she help loving so extraordinary a man? His tenderness, his caring, his passion had all torn away her defenses. And she had permitted it to happen.

Burying her face in her hands, Caro gave an anguished moan. How could she have made the dire mistake of falling in love with Max? She couldn’t believe he felt the same way toward her. He had never once mentioned love during his proposal, never in all their heated exchanges that evening. Surely if he loved her, he would have told her so?

Or perhaps he considered it immaterial, given his profound reluctance to become a Guardian…because he knew how much she wanted to remain here on Cyrene. Was it possible he was being noble again?

An odd mixture of hope and fear curled in Caro’s stomach. Was it conceivable Max did love her even a little?

She forced herself to drop her hands. “I do love him, Isabella. So much that it hurts. But I don’t know if he could ever return my love.”

“Then you will simply have to make him do so,” Isabella declared with the supreme confidence of a woman who always got her way with men.

Looking up, Caro fixed her friend with a skeptical stare. “Surely one cannot just make a man fall in love.”

Isabella smiled. “Pah, it is not so difficult. Particularly a man who is more than halfway there already, as I’m certain your Mr. Leighton is. I can easily advise you how to go about it.”

“So you think I should pursue him? But Max has always loathed being chased. It is one of the reasons he came here to Cyrene—to evade all the females who were after him.”

“What I think,” Isabella replied, “is that if you truly love him, you would be foolish to let him get away. True love is far too fleeting to let slip through your fingers, Caro. You want to win his heart, do you not?”

The terrible yearning that swept over Caro answered that question for her. She wanted desperately for Max to love her.

“Yes, I want to win his heart.” She looked at Isabella. “But what if he has already left Cyrene? I’ve been afraid to inquire, but he might have returned to England by now.”

“Then you must follow him, of course.”

Yes, of course. If Max had left, then she would follow him. If he couldn’t bear to be a Guardian, if he couldn’t bear to live here on Cyrene with her, then she would go with him, for she couldn’t bear to live without him. It was that simple. She was willing to do whatever it took to win his love.

Just then a servant appeared at the parlor door, bearing a silver salver. “A message for you, Miss Evers, from Lord Thorne.”

Wondering why Thorne would be writing to her, Caro broke the seal and quickly scanned the message.

Her heart plunged to her stomach before she was halfway done.
“Dear God…”

“What is it?” Isabella asked in alarm. “You have turned white as a ghost.”

“Max…” Caro rasped, her voice no more than a hoarse croak. “He has contracted some kind of grave illness. Thorne says for me to come at once.”

She glanced up blindly at her friend. “Max is on his deathbed.”

Chapter

Twenty-one

Isabella ordered her carriage brought around immediately, for Caro was too distraught to drive herself. Her stomach churned with turmoil, while her heart pounded with fear. Was Max truly
dying
?

Even though Isabella tried to soothe her during the endless journey to Thorne’s villa, Caro couldn’t control her trembling. The moment the carriage drew to a halt, she leapt out and ran up the front steps.

Without waiting for admittance, she burst through the door and startled a footman who was polishing a bronze statue in the entryway. When Caro demanded, “Where is he?” the astonished servant gaped at her as if she were a madwoman.

The next instant, Thorne emerged from his study down the hall, as if he’d been expecting her.

“Max—
where is he?
” Caro pleaded again, her voice shaking.

Thorne’s gaze narrowing on her thoughtfully, he pointed to the grand staircase. “Upstairs, third bedchamber on the right. But Caro—”

Whether Thorne intended to reassure her or warn her further about Max’s condition, she didn’t remain to find out, for she had to see for herself.

She ran up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste, and hurried along the corridor, before her years of training made her recall the need to approach an invalid quietly. Struggling for a semblance of control, Caro pushed open the third door on her right.

She had expected the worst, but when she took in the scene, she came to a sudden halt. Max was indeed lying on the canopied bed, reclining against the pillows. Yet he was resting
on top
of the counterpane rather than beneath it, with one knee drawn up casually, propping up the book he was reading. And he was fully dressed in breeches and boots and a superbly tailored burgundy coat, like any gentleman of leisure. Nothing like any invalid she had ever attended.

When he looked up from his book, his blue eyes connected with hers, giving her a jolt.

He appeared the perfect picture of health, her confused mind registered. Her hand went to her breastbone, where her heart was still galloping in a violent rhythm.

As she stood staring, his mouth curved with the ghost of a smile. “I confess I am flattered by your haste.”

“I…don’t understand. Thorne’s message said your condition was critical.”

“It is. But Dr. Allenby claims he can do nothing for me. You are the only one who can cure me, Caro.”

“So you are
not
on your deathbed?” she breathed, taking a bewildered step into the room.

“Not exactly.” He set his book aside. “You refused my offer of marriage, and I need to know why.”

It took a dozen more seconds for his words to sink in…for her to realize how thoroughly she had been duped. Despite her overwhelming relief, her temper ignited.

Caro shoved the door shut behind her, her gaze narrowing with outrage. “You…you bastard. You
terrified
me! You made me think you were dying!”

“At least now I know you care.”

She wanted to strike him. Her hands curling into fists, Caro marched over to the bed. When she aimed a punch at his shoulder, though, Max caught her wrist and hauled her down before she could do any real damage, covering her body with his, pinning her arms above her head.

Caro struggled beneath him, practically sputtering in her fury at his deception. “I swear I could shoot you for what you put me through!”

The glint in his eyes turned sober as Max gazed down at her. “Perhaps now you understand how I felt in Barbary when I thought you might have been killed.”

She jerked her hands from his grasp. “Is
that
what this conniving subterfuge is all about?” Fighting free of his weight, Caro leapt up from the bed, whirling to glare at him, while planting her hands on her hips. “You mean to punish me for what you endured in Barbary?”

“Not at all. I wanted you to give me a chance to plead my case.”

“What case?”

“Sit down, and I will tell you.” Max gestured toward a wing chair that had been drawn near the bed.

He had planned this encounter, Caro realized, still seething, and she doubted he would rest until she had heard him out.

“I prefer to stand,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting.
“Well?”

Max studied her belligerent stance for a long moment before raking a hand through his hair. “First let me say that I didn’t entirely deceive you. The truth is, Caro, I am in terrible pain, and I desperately need you to heal me.”

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded, baldly skeptical.

He tapped his chest, directly over his heart. “I’ve been bleeding inside, ever since you ordered me out of your life.”

“You are
not
bleeding, you…cad!” Returning a glance filled with withering scorn, she spun around, intending to storm out, but he forestalled her with a simple statement:

“I have joined the Guardians.”

Her sharp intake of breath was loud in the quiet room. Caro stood frozen for a moment before slowly turning back to face him. She gazed at him in shock, her brow furrowed with mingled hope and wariness. “Do you really mean it? You wouldn’t jest about something so momentous, would you?”

“You know me well enough to realize I would never jest about this, angel.”

Caro did sit down then; she sank into the chair, her limbs too weak to hold her, all the while searching his face earnestly. If it was true, if Max had actually joined the Guardians, it would take her a moment to absorb the enormity of his commitment.

“Why?” she finally said.

Shifting his position, Max swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he could face her.

“After we returned from Barbary, I did a great deal of soul-searching.” Bracing his hands on his thighs, he leaned closer, focusing all his attention on her. “You were right, Caro. I need a purpose in my life. Something with meaning. I could return to England, of course. Someday I will inherit my uncle’s title and wealth—which fairly guarantees me a life of pleasure and ease, with no worries or danger to contend with. But I suspect the shallowness of it all would drive me mad within a few short months.”

Her involuntary smile implied agreement. “I rather suspect it would.”

His mouth curved but his intense gaze never faltered as he continued. “So I concluded I would do better to acquire an occupation of some sort. I think I would make a fairly good Guardian. I have expertise that could prove valuable on a number of your missions.”

Caro nodded solemnly. “Few people have the skills and the dedication to be part of our order, Max, and you are one of them. But…what about your nightmares?”

His eyes grew hooded. “I haven’t conquered those yet. And I may never. But this past interminable week, I finally began to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That I’ve been so afraid to risk losing anyone else that I lost the capacity to live.”

Caro remained silent, hardly daring to trust the gladness filling her.

“I may not be able to control fate,” Max admitted in a low voice. “I can’t guarantee victory. And I may still lose people I care for. But striving and failing is better than living as a numb shell of a man, with no loved ones to bring me joy.”

He reached out to grasp her hands. “You are my joy, Caro.”

“Oh, Max,” she said hoarsely, her throat suddenly tight with tears.

His gaze softened, but his grip remained forceful. “It took me a while to understand it. For so long I had dreamed about you. You were my guardian angel, the loving spirit who watched over me and sustained me through that final hellish year of war. But even afterward, you haunted me. I knew I’d become obsessed with the bewitching woman who had offered me solace. Then I saw you again in London and…I felt the same bond between us, Caro.”

Releasing one of her hands, Max reached up to touch her cheek. “I returned to Cyrene because I needed to know if what I felt was real. If our bond was just a fantasy I had conjured in my feverish soldier’s dreams. If the enchantment that night was simply a spell cast by the island’s magic. If the passion we shared was as soul-shattering as I remembered. I discovered the answers, Caro. I’m even more bewitched by you now than I was then.”

For a moment Caro shut her eyes, buffeted by the wild pendulum of her emotions, aching with the desperate longing that surged in her heart.

Rising, Max drew her to her feet. “I know you think I was only offering for you out of honor, but you were wrong. I want you for my wife, Caro.” He captured her face, framing it in his hands. “I meant it when I said I was bleeding inside. You wanted to send me away, but I could no more leave you than I could cut out my own heart. I love you, Caro.”

He saw wonder and doubt in her gaze, and it was a long moment before she spoke. “You…truly love me?”

“So much that it frightens me.”

Her tears spilled over, wrenching at Max. “Good God, there is no reason to cry, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes there is. I never thought you would actually love me.”

“Come here.”

When his arms went around her, she buried her face in his shoulder, trying to stem her tears.

Max pressed his lips against her hair. “I don’t know if I could survive the terror of losing you, but I am absolutely certain about one thing: I can’t live without you. You make me glad to be alive. You give meaning to my life, Caro. You
are
my life. I only existed before you.”

Caro gave another helpless sob. She was crying from happiness, she realized.

“I think,” he said softly, “that I’ve loved you since our first night together at the ruins.”

“It was the same with me, Max. I fell hopelessly in love with you that night.”

He drew back to stare at her, his gaze sweeping over her, wild and intense. “Is that true?”

“Yes. Oh, Max, I love you so much.” She loved him down to the deepest corners of her soul.

The ragged sound that came from his throat was part triumph, part prayer of thanks. Without warning, Max lifted Caro off her feet and whirled her around and around, embracing her so fiercely, her ribs hurt.

She was dizzy and breathless and laughing through her tears when he finally set her down again.

But his arms remained tightly around her, his gaze keen as he demanded, “If you love me, then why the devil did you refuse my proposal?”

Caro sniffed, giving him a shaky smile. “I wanted you to be free to choose your fate, not be forced to wed me or to join our order out of a sense of obligation. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer for my sake, Max. I knew it would only cause you more nightmares if you couldn’t accept my being a Guardian.”

“I’ve come to terms with your being a Guardian.” His mouth pursed in a frown. “I can’t say that I won’t worry about you whenever you’re on a mission, but I will endeavor to control my protective urges at least.”

“Even if there are times when I must go without you?”

“Even then.”

She exhaled all the shaking air in her lungs and pressed her face again into his shoulder. “I still find it hard to believe that you have become a Guardian.”

“I think Philip would have wanted this for me,” he said quietly.

Her heart twisted at the wistfulness in his voice. “I’m certain he would have. But I had given up hope.”

“Sir Gawain hadn’t yet given up,” Max recounted, “but he seemed vastly relieved when I accepted his invitation to join. I don’t think he wanted to press the issue of banishing me from your island.”

“I was prepared to live in England with you,” Caro admitted, “if that was the only way I could have you.”

Max went still. “You would have made that sacrifice for me?”

“Yes. But now you will be the one making the sacrifice.”

“It won’t be any sort of sacrifice, Caro. Cyrene is a paradise, as you well know. And if I have you, I can be happy living anywhere. At any event, I couldn’t ask you to give up your medical career when I know how vital it is to you. But I fully intend to bring a surgeon to Cyrene to take over Allenby’s role, so you won’t work yourself into the ground caring for his patients. You will have to forgive me if I’m selfish enough to want you for myself part of the time.”

Caro raised her gaze to him, a smile in her eyes. “Do you really think you could persuade a surgeon to practice on Cyrene?”

“I’m certain of it. I know several excellent army doctors who are currently unemployed and who could fulfill Allenby’s role here. I promise you I will persuade at least one of them to settle here.”

She kissed him lightly, then shook her head in disbelief. “Max, do you really want to marry me? I will no doubt make you a terrible wife. If I remain Dr. Allenby’s assistant, I will sometimes be called away from home, day or night, for long hours at a time.”

“I don’t give a damn,” Max said. “I intend to marry you, love, and I assure you, I won’t take no for an answer. If you won’t agree, I will simply plague you until you give in.”

Her watery laugh expressed her capitulation. “Then I suppose I will just have to give in.”

When a slow, devastating smile crept across his lips, Caro shut her eyes again, wanting to pinch herself to make certain she wasn’t dreaming.