Название | Rising Stars |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Maisey Yates |
Жанр | Эротическая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Эротическая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472095497 |
He looked up, his eyes wide.
“See ya.” With a skip, the girl turned away, racing back down the street with her friends, with the reckless joy of childhood freedom.
And a lightning bolt hit his heart.
Eduardo had told Callie to leave. He’d been the one who’d filed for divorce. He’d set her free, knowing she deserved better than a man who tried to control her, to spy on her, who wouldn’t trust her.
But what if he could have just chosen to be a different man?
Eduardo stared at the flow of traffic on the busy street. What if his past didn’t have to infect his future? What if he could choose a different life?
Hope rose like a wave inside his soul, no longer to be repressed. He’d set Callie free. But could he do the same for himself—be the man he wanted to be? The divorce wasn’t final yet. Was there still time?
Could he ask her for a second chance?
Ask her to be his wife—not his prisoner, but his partner?
Gripping the photo, he whirled around, causing four construction workers to spit curses as he knocked past them on the sidewalk. Eduardo caught up with Sanchez just as his sedan was pulling from the curb. Yanking open the back door, Eduardo threw himself inside. “The airport!” he panted. “I need to see my wife—now!”
Sanchez gave him an enormous smile. “Yes, sir!”
He stomped on the gas, and Eduardo pulled out his phone to call Mrs. McAuliffe about the change in plans. Before he could, his phone rang in his hand. He saw Keith Johnson’s number. Scowling, he turned the sound to Mute. But after he hung up with Mrs. McAuliffe, as the car crossed the George Washington Bridge, his phone buzzed again. Looking down, he saw his lawyer’s number and a chill went down his spine.
His lawyer.
Did that mean …
Could it be …
Eduardo narrowed his eyes. No. As the phone stopped, then urgently started to vibrate a second time, Eduardo rolled down the window, and tossed it into the Hudson.
It wasn’t too late for him to change. He wouldn’t let it be.
He made it to the airport as his jet was warming up, and took his place on the jet bound for North Dakota. Refusing his surprised flight attendant’s offer of his usual martini, Eduardo paced back and forth across the cabin for hours, planning what he would say to Callie. He tried to write down his feelings then finally gave up in disgust. He would pray that once he saw her, he’d know what to say.
Sitting restlessly in the white leather seat by the window, he felt like a jangle of nerves. Wishing the jet could go faster, he looked down through the wispy clouds and watched the green rolling hills of the East Coast slowly transform to the flat, brownish landscape of the northern prairies.
When they finally landed at the tiny airport outside of Fern, his legs were shaking as he went down the steps to the tarmac. The airport was just like he remembered when he’d visited so long ago, the day Callie had come to meet him as the local office liaison. But this time, he had no staff. He was alone.
Eduardo had forgotten what it was like to exist without layers of employees and servants insulating him from the real world. He felt clumsy, trying to remember how to do things himself, with no assistants. No bodyguards. On impulse, he stopped at the airport’s single shop to buy Callie some flowers and an eight-dollar box of chocolates. The place was deserted, and it took five long minutes before the salesclerk even noticed he was there, and came out from the back to ring up his order.
But Eduardo didn’t chew him out. He didn’t try to throw his weight around. He no longer wanted to rule this town. He wanted to fit in. He was suddenly desperate to be part of Callie’s world, if only she would let him.
He didn’t go completely unnoticed. At the car rental counter, the female clerk looked at his face, then his credit card. Her jaw fell open, and her gum almost fell out of her mouth.
“Eduardo Cruz?” she said faintly. “The Eduardo Cruz? The owner of Cruz Oil?”
“Don’t hold it against me.” Impatient as he was to find Callie, he gave her his best attempt at a grin. “I, um, seem to have lost my phone. Do you happen to know the way to the Woodville farm? Walter and Jane Woodville’s place?”
“Of course I know it.” The young woman chewed her gum thoughtfully. “At the corner of Rural Route 12 and Old County Road. I went to school with their daughter.” Her eyes darkened. “I saw her driving around in the Rolls-Royce yesterday….”
“Thank you. She’s the one I came to see—”
“But she’s not at home,” she said. “I’m sorry to tell you this if you’re a friend, but she was in an accident. A car accident.”
Eduardo nearly staggered back. “What?”
“That car was smashed right up,” she said sadly.
Car accident. Memories went through him of when he’d heard of his mother’s death in a smash-up on a treacherous road on the Costa del Sol. An icicle of stark fear went down his spine. “You are mistaken,” he said faintly. “That car is very safe….”
“Some kids were riding bicycles in the middle of the road. Her fiancé swerved, and the car smashed straight into a telephone pole. She’s in critical condition at County General …”
Eduardo reached across the counter, his eyes wild. “Who’s her fiancé? Who is he?”
“Brandon McLinn …”
He didn’t wait to hear more. He grabbed a map off the counter.
“Mr. Cruz, I really am sorry—”
Running to his rental car, he drove for the hospital, racing down the highway at a hundred miles an hour. If he got pulled over by a policeman, he knew he’d go to jail. But he didn’t give a damn.
He couldn’t lose her. Not now …
Anguish gripped his throat. He could have been with her all this time. He could have been chasing her the last two months, trying to make her forgive him, trying to be the man she deserved. Instead he’d let her go. Why couldn’t he have just treated her right from the beginning? Why had he wasted so much time trying to control their lives? Control was the illusion, not love. There was no such thing as perfect safety. No such thing as perfect control. You couldn’t make someone love you. And even if you did, you couldn’t make it last forever.
People left. People died.
But love endured. He could choose to love Callie with all his heart and strength, love her with full knowledge of both her flaws and his own; love her with every ounce of his being until the day he died. That was his choice.
He’d once told her that love changed nothing. It was wrong. It changed everything.
Clutching the steering wheel, he prayed he’d reach her in time. Callie had to be all right. His daughter couldn’t grow up without a mother. He couldn’t live without his wife.
The afternoon sunlight cast the waving fields in a golden glow beneath the wide blue skies. He increased his speed to a hundred and twenty, as fast as the little rental car would go along the empty highway.
Don’t leave me, Eduardo begged soundlessly. Don’t leave me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT HAD been a horrible night. And a very long day.
Callie rose achingly from the chair by her sister’s hospital bed. She needed coffee or fresh air. She was still wearing the same purple sweatpants and T-shirt from yesterday, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. They’d all been awake through the night, and now, in late afternoon, everyone had collapsed