Amber's Embrace (23 page)

“When we spent last weekend together, she was a whole person, Ginny. We were free and together. I’m sure she must have seen it in me—that same completeness, that same peace. She was beautiful and happy. She glowed, inside and out. God, how I love her.” He paused. “She wanted me to spend the night with her on Sunday night. Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.”

“That’s unrealistic, Zach, and you know it,” his cousin chided gently. “You’ll be able to tell her everything … when she wakes up.” It was left unsaid—that awesome
if
she wakes up—yet both quieted simultaneously. Finally, Ginny spoke again. “Her son—Scott. When is he due back?”

“In another ten days, I think. If she hasn’t woken up by Sunday, I’ll call him myself. She always spoke with him on Sundays.”

“She’ll wake up. She
has
to.” Ginny spoke with such conviction that Amber almost believed her. “You just have to keep telling her how much you love her. You have to make her
want
to wake up.”

I do! I do!
Amber screamed silently, knowing now the full extent of pain which Zachary suffered. As she fought to free herself from her invisible prison, she heard Ginny whisper a soft good-bye to him. “I’ve got to run, Zach. I’ll catch you later. Will you be back in your office?”

“No, you can find me here.”

“Have you been making your rounds?”

“Phil has been covering for me.”

“Been in the OR?”

“No.”

“Zachary Wilder,” his cousin rebuked him gently, “you know, you look like hell. If she wakes up and sees you, she’s apt to go into permanent fright. If you can’t work, just go and sleep for a while. How about it?”

“Later.”

“Later … later…” she echoed his words, knowing that “later” would be only after Amber woke up. “If she only knew of your devotion…” she whispered beneath her breath, as her heels tapped soberly across the flooring, taking her to the door. “Call me if you need me, Zach?”

“Sure, Ginny,” he murmured bleakly, his voice aimed still at the pale face on the pillow where his eyes held firm. For long moments, Amber felt herself suspended in a void between sleep and wakefulness. When Zachary spoke to her, she marshaled all her senses to respond.

“I love you, Amber. You have to know that. I’ll love you forever. But I need you. Life would be so empty without you…” His voice cracked, mirroring her own break from limbo. The dark head dropped to her chest, his hands slid beneath the hospital garb to circle her back. In a totally unrecognizable sound, he wept, softly and soulfully, expressing the depth of his love as he could not have done in any more powerful way. Now Amber knew; if she could love Zachary forever, his love would be returned even more intensely. Slowly, and with the last bit of determination she possessed, she lifted her hand to stroke his head. His hair was thick and healthy, lusty between her fingers. As he cried silently, with the rich emotion of a man, she repeated her motion, soothing him with every bit of her caring. She loved him so very much, this wonderful man who had come into her life such a short time ago …

With gaining strength, she lowered her head to kiss his. Instinctively, his arms tightened their hold, crushing her to him, heedless of the physical injuries that had brought her to the hospital in the first place. Amber cried out, slowly, impulsively. “Aaaah … Zachary … be careful … that … hurts!”

Though her voice was a weak-whispered croak, he heard it. His body froze for an instant before he slowly raised his eyes to hers, terrified that he would find it had been a product of his imagination, this voice he had heard. It held her spirit—but had his own need conjured it?

The warm green pools of her eyes were open and brimming. The face that had been still and pale now took on a hint of pink and a thread of animation. Slowly, her lips softened into a deepening smile, cutting through the tears that dampened her cheeks.

“Amber…” He spoke her name in a long drawn-out whisper, its sound a caress on his tongue. “You’ve come back…” His gaze was blue as the ocean, buoying her even as it drew her into its depths.

Her nod was faint but distinct, her lips moving soundlessly. “I love you.” The words were shaped and conveyed. Then, in reward for the effort it had taken to pull herself from her trance, she witnessed the slow drain of tension from his cherished features. When he smiled at her, the reflexive flip-flop within her told, beyond a doubt, of her recovery. Straightening, he lifted her to him, cradling her body now as a fragile treasure. The hospital mattress yielded beneath his weight as he sat on the bed, holding her gently, tenderly, refusing to set her back from him for even the shortest moment. When his face lowered and his cheek brushed hers, the salt of their tears mixed, then gradually dried, one and the same, it no longer mattered.

“Zachary…” That her voice sounded weak and distant was minor; that it had emerged in response to her brain’s impulse was the triumph.

“Don’t talk, honey. You’ve been through so much. Please rest for me.” His soft croon was a potent relaxant, as was the beat of his heart by her ear. A lingering tremor of anguish passed from his body through hers, to disappear forever.

“I’m sorry, Zachary…” she began again, driven to tell him all she’d learned.

“Shhh. We’ll talk later.”

“No,” she whimpered softly. “I was wrong … very wrong. I had … no idea … about … Ginny.” She paused, breathless at the mild exertion. But the same determination that had brought her from her coma now pushed her on. “I love you … and thought … it had happened … again. Do you … understand?”

His gentle rocking motion lulled her, his hand smoothed silken strands back from her face. He held her cheek against his chest, needing time to compose himself. He wanted to be strong for her—strong to love and protect her, strong to provide a haven for her always.

“I know, honey. We’ve both been through that.” His pause brought with it the full implication of her words. “You
did
hear me talking with Ginny!”

His hand felt the nod of her head, his body the deep breath she took. “I was hurt and angry … and tired that night. I’m still … not quite sure … exactly what … happened.”

Sufficiently composed now, he laid her gently back upon the pillows. He needed to look at her, to see her, to convince himself that she had, indeed, returned to him. Lifting her hand in both of his, he nibbled at her fingertips, not once taking his eyes from hers. Her recovery was a miracle for which he would spend the rest of his life giving thanks.

“What
did
happen, Zachary?” she whispered, aware that only one of her hands was free to cling to his.

The sigh of relief he offered told her immediately that whatever the damage, it was minor compared with the coma she’d been in. “You must have been the object of a stupid game of chicken. The driver in front of the pickup was worried and went back to check, once the truck whizzed by.”

“But what happened to
me?
”

“Oh, nothing much,” he grimaced, wrinkling up his nose for emphasis. “You broke your right arm when you fell—sorry, no writing for a while,” he teased sternly. “And you took a bad bang on the head. That accounted for the unconsciousness. But, beyond that, you’re bruised … that’s all.”

It was a strange feeling, to know so little about one’s own body. Skeptically, she eyed him. “Are you … sure? You’re not keeping something from me, are you?” she asked fearfully.

His smile exuded confidence and reassurance in its breadth. “Now that you’re out of that coma, everything is going to be fine. Just fine.” Gentle fingers traced the sculpted line of her cheek, as his eyes caressed her again.

Her doubts vanished instantly, as did her smile, as the clearing of one muddled issue led to the urgency of another. “Ginny was … right, Zachary! You do look … terrible! If I hadn’t heard her warning, I might have—”

His mouth covered hers to smother any further sound save that of her soft moan as she surrendered her heart and soul, fully and finally, to him. His lips were sweet and gentle, rich with promise of good things to come.

“That’s one sure way to shut you up,” he said smirking down at her, at last, drinking in the look of utter happiness on her face.

“Ummm,” she murmured, suddenly tired but satisfied, her eyes closed and savoring her mind’s image of him, her hand gripping his with a strength that astonished him.

It was the moment he wanted, before she drifted off to sleep. “Say you’ll marry me, Amber.” Falling somewhere between question and command, the force of his intent sent an explosion of joy through her weakened body.

Tilting her head sideways toward his face, her eyes were heavy-lidded and dreamlike, her smile spreading in heralded acceptance. “I will marry you,” she whispered, knowing intuitively that her future would be nothing without him. “You won’t leave me, will you? Ever?” Half-asleep, she struggled to hear his answer, her hand tightening convulsively as she waited.

Unashamed, he let his tears flow once more, as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Never, Amber. Never.” The knot in his throat precluded all other talk, but none was needed. He had made the promise she wanted to hear. And Zachary Wilder, she knew, never made promises he didn’t keep!

CHAPTER TEN

“Shall I carry you over the threshhold?” The rich resonance of his voice sent a thrill of excitement through her, as the arm that encircled her shoulder drew her to a halt before the door of his home.

“But Zachary, we’re not married yet!” she protested with mock coyness, struggling to keep her delight in tow.

“Bah! That’s just a formality—more for the benefit of Scott and Liz than anything else. You’re my wife
now,
Amber, for better or for worse.”

Her left arm tightened around his waist. “Ah,” she crooned, “that sounds so nice.” With a backward tilt of her golden mane, she offered her lips for his kiss and was not disappointed. His lips met hers with a flame of passion that branded her his as no marriage license could. His hands were less steady when he finally released her and fumbled for the key to the front door, opening it at last, then pausing. From the threshhold to Amber and back, his eyes spoke of his mind’s calculation. Then, with a devilish gleam suffusing his features, he swept her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her from the heat of the day into the coolness of his home, his body providing the only warmth she needed. Gently and with exaggerated care, he lowered her into a corner of the sofa, propping the pillows behind her, fussing to make sure she was comfortable before standing back, legs planted apart, hands on hips, to survey his work.

“That should do! Do you feel all right?” His overwhelming concern, considering he was a doctor himself and had to know how far along the road to full recovery she truly was, pleased her.

“I’m fine!” The clarity of her lime-shaded eyes reinforced her declaration.

“No pain?”

“No!”

“Any headaches?”

“No!”

Satisfied, he turned to leave. An instant frown creased her features. “You’re not just going to make me sit here idly like this, are you?”

His broad grin chided her for her nonsense. “Of course not! What you need is a tall, cool drink, then some lunch.” He rubbed his hands together, delighted with his role of nurse for a change. “First, the drink.” With the enthusiasm of a small boy, he bounded toward the kitchen.

Amber’s eyes followed him until his broad back disappeared from view. He most certainly was not a small boy, she mused, but rather the very mature and loving man to whom she had committed herself for life. The thought thrilled her again. He was right—she was his wife already, though the actual ceremony would wait another two weeks until the children were both home. The children! And he wanted more, he had already informed her. Once she had dreamed it; now, her dream would become reality.

Looking back, the past three days had been part of that dream. From the moment of her awakening, she had been treated like a princess, pampered by all of the hospital staff and, in particular, by Zachary. Her doctors—Zachary had been denied that privilege, being so emotionally involved with her—would have discharged her a day earlier, had it not been for Zachary’s insistence that she remain in their care until he had rearranged his schedule sufficiently to allow him to take care of her at home.

“But I don’t
need
constant care. I’m fine! This cast is not all
that
inhibiting,” she had half-protested at the time, despite her craving that he be with her every minute.

“I want to be there,” he had insisted, putting all doubts to rest. “I won’t have it any other way.” There was no resisting his determination and stubbornness; and Amber would have it no other way.

So she gladly acquiesced, resting that extra day, though grateful when the PR department sent a secretary up to take dictation of her parting thoughts. Her strength returned with each passing hour, as Zachary saw to his affairs, ably distributing his caseload of patients among his colleagues to allow himself time off.

“We’ll be going to London next month for a conference on the International Center,” he informed her, to her surprise and delight, during one all too brief stop in. “The children won’t have begun school yet; why don’t we take them with us?”

Amber’s eyes lit up. “That would be terrific! They’d love it, and so would I. But … won’t we be in the way?”

His mock-frown stilled her worry. “My family … in the way? Of course not! While I’m at meetings, you and the kids can be exploring. During the evening, we can do things together.”

Sudden shyness brought a blush of impatience to her cheeks, painting them a healthy rose. “Will we … have some … time … to ourselves…?”

No less eager than she to claim his marital rights, his mind had moved along similar lines. “I’ve got two weeks of vacation coming,” he announced with a sly grin. “I’ll take them now, before the kids return. We’ll have a honeymoon
before
the wedding, if that’s all right with you.” His slow drawl at the last dared her to disagree. As he sat on the edge of her bed, his long arms straddling her hips, his face was deliciously close and delightfully wicked.