Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [30]
"I've hired a private nurse," Wallace said abruptly. "I want someone with him at all times."
Paige immediately felt guilty for having abandoned her post for even a few moments.
"I'll walk up with you, Mr. Hathaway," Martin said. "Paige needs a little air."
She sent Martin a silent thank you, knowing he'd made the offer to give her some space. She sat back down on the bench, retrieving her rapidly cooling cup of coffee.
Martin and her grandfather got along well, she thought, taking a sip of the tepid liquid. Another item to put in the pro column. And he'd just saved her a few minutes of awkward tension. But deep in her heart she knew there was still something missing in their relationship. Despite all of Martin's good qualities, she couldn't seem to feel more for him than fondness and appreciation. Her mother would say those emotions were enough to base a marriage on. But she wanted more. She wanted that reckless, breathless, falling-in-love kind of feeling. She wanted her stomach to do flip-flops when Martin was close by. She wanted to be acutely aware every time his hand touched her shoulder or the small of her back. She wanted to be swept off her feet. But Martin didn't make her feel any of those things.
He was a good date. Generous, concerned, able to pick fine wines, good restaurants, appropriate movies. He read extensively, traveled when he had the chance, worked out, kept fit, handled money well, had a good job. Damn. She was doing just what her mother had suggested, making a pro and con list in her head. Only the pros were all logical, and the cons were all emotional. Big surprise there. She'd spent most of her life torn between reason and desire. And she always chose reason. She always did the right thing in the long run. That was who she was; even when she wanted to stray, she couldn't. She should probably conserve her energy and just agree to marry Martin now, save herself all the stress and turmoil of a decision that would probably end up there anyway.
With a sigh, she leaned back, resting against the building. This wasn't the time to be thinking about marriage. Not with her father's life on the line. A rush of worry hit her once again. She didn't want to lose him. It couldn't end like this, without warning, without a chance to say good-bye.
She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking a peaceful image, but she was taken back to an even more painful place—her sister's bedroom. She'd had more than one chance to say good-bye to her sister, but she hadn't been able to make herself go into the room, so she'd stood in the doorway as her parents sat by Elizabeth's bed. She could see them now, the sunlight streaming in through the window, lighting up Elizabeth's face as if she was already an angel, already gone to heaven. Her mother had asked Paige to come in, to say good-bye to her sister. But she hadn't been able to enter that room. Not with Elizabeth lying so still, her eyes closed, her small hands folded on her chest. It was the way she would look a few days later when they put her in the casket, like she was sleeping, only she wasn't.
God, how Paige wished she hadn't had to see that. But her mother had insisted that she face it, that she understand that death was a part of life. You must be strong, Paige. You must not cry. You must go on with your life. She hadn't been strong, and she hadn't understood. She'd been six years old and terrified that whatever was happening to her sister would happen to her, too. She hadn't been able to sleep on her back for years. In fact, she still hated that position, still refused to put her hands together on her chest, as if she were inviting the same result.
Her eyes flew open so she wouldn't see the images in her head. She knew that the reason she was sitting out here was so she wouldn't have to look at her father in the same position. She was twenty-eight years old now, but seeing her father lying so still in bed, looking so old, so fragile, made her feel as if