Because he couldn’t bear to stand so close to her and want her and at the same time be so furious he wanted to shake her, Robert stepped back. For the first time in his life he didn’t trust himself to do the right thing. “I want answers, and I want them now,” he ground out.
“Not here.” Leaning against the wall, she worked frantically to fasten her jeans. “I’ve got to get this glass picked up.”
He took another step back, cursing the burn of lust in his groin. He might be angry with her, but it didn’t seem to be affecting his attraction to her. A dangerous combination for a man who’d just broken his number-one rule and lost control.
Turning away from her, he stalked to the living room. The fire had burned down to embers so he added a couple of logs. Because he wasn’t yet ready to sit down, he went to the kitchen, put water in the kettle and set it over a burner. He wanted coffee, but she didn’t appear to have any so he figured he’d have to settle for tea. Damn it, he was starting to hate tea.
He’d just poured two steaming cups when Lily walked into the kitchen. Robert glanced at her, felt his gut tighten at the sight of her, then quickly looked at his tea. “How is he?” he asked.
“Sleeping.” She picked up her cup. “He drank some of the milk.”
“Good. That will help him keep his strength up.” He carried his cup to the living room. Because he was too restless to sit, he set it on the small table between the two chairs and walked over to stare into the fire. He was aware of her moving behind him, setting down her tea and taking one of the chairs. He could still smell the sweet scent of her. Still see the way she’d looked at him when he’d kissed her and stroked her to climax…
Robert crushed the image with a single blow. He couldn’t think of that now. Instead, he turned to her, felt the beauty of her impact him, and he prayed she didn’t notice. He didn’t want her to know she had that kind of power. He didn’t trust her not to use it against him.
“He has juvenile hereditary hemoedema,” he said.
Lily reacted as if he’d slapped her. The blood drained from her face. She pressed a hand to her stomach. The urge to go to her, to comfort her was strong, but Robert didn’t dare. Not at a time like this. Not when he knew touching her wouldn’t stop with simple comforting.
“Is it serious?” she asked.
“I’ve had it since I was fourteen.”
“Is that why he’s been sick? Why his fingers are blue?”
He nodded.
“What do we do? I mean, can it be treated? Can we help him?”
He took a step closer. “The disease is incurable, but it’s not life-threatening if he gets the proper care.”
“Incurable.” She looked ill. “Oh, God.”
“He’s going to be all right.”
“How can you know—”
“I’m a doctor, Lily. I’ve got the same disease.” He didn’t think this was the time to tell her it was the same disease that had killed his father and brother. That losing those two people to hemoedema was the main reason he’d become a doctor.
“How do we treat it?” she asked.
“Eventually, he’ll need a bone marrow transplant.”
For an instant tears shimmered in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Then I want to have him treated right away.”
“Not in Rebelia. Paris, maybe. Or London—” Or the clinic in D.C.
“But he’s sick now. I can’t bear to see him so ill. Surely there’s something we can do now, isn’t there?”
“A transfusion will help.”
“But my blood type isn’t—”
“Mine is.”
Lowering her head, she put her face in her hands and let out a long, shuddery breath. For a moment the only other sounds were the rain pinging against the roof and the crackle of the fire. When she’d gained control of her emotions she raised her head and looked at him. “Thank you.”
Because he couldn’t accept her gratitude for something he would have taken his last breath to do, he didn’t answer. Instead, he stood with his back to the fire, watching her, trying not to think about how simple things had once been between them and how complex they were now.
“Tell me what I have to do,” she said.
“I’ll set something up with Dr. Orloff in Rajalla.”
“All right.”
“I want some answers, Lily,” he said. “Damn it, I want them now.”
She curled more deeply into the chair. Robert knew it was a protective gesture. He hated that she felt she needed to protect herself from him. But he wanted the truth. All of it.
“You were pregnant with Jack when I left Rebelia,” he prompted.
“I didn’t know it at the time, of course, but yes, I was pregnant.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
“There are a lot of reasons.” She looked down at her tea. “All of them are…complicated.”
“I’m real good at complicated, Lily. What I’m not good at is being lied to.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Tension shot through him at the apology. He knew she was expecting him to say it was okay, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. So he didn’t say anything at all.
Her eyes were ravaged when they met his. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t realize you thought I’d been killed.”