Rebel's Bargain. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
News your twin had almost died would sober anyone. He grimaced.
After years of risk-taking his luck had run out. Being faced with his own mortality and possible permanent incapacity was forcing him to reassess his life.
‘There’s no need to race here, Lucca.’ He shifted the phone and winced as he knocked the bandages on his head. ‘There’s nothing you can do. Besides—’ he forced a smile into his voice ‘—you’d spend your time flirting with the nurses and ignoring me.’
‘How can you say that?’ No mistaking Lucca’s relief at Orsino’s joke. ‘I’m a changed man. There’s only one woman for me and she’s a real princess.’
Orsino groaned at his brother’s awful pun. Lucca’s romance with a royal hadn’t improved his sense of humour.
‘Besides, the nurses probably have their hands full with you,’ Lucca continued. ‘Have you got a date with the prettiest one yet?’
Orsino swallowed the retort that he had no idea what the staff looked like. That was a detail not even Lucca needed to know. Unless it became absolutely necessary.
‘You’re the lady-killer, Lucca, remember?’
‘This is me you’re talking to, Orsino. I’ve seen how women react to you. Not that I could work out why, when I’m the handsome twin. You’re seriously saying you’re not fending women off?’
‘Not right at the moment.’
Orsino gritted his teeth against swamping self-pity and anger. Not anger at Lucca, but at the disaster his world had become. The staff fussed over him only because it had been touch and go at first whether he’d survive.
‘Of course.’ Lucca sounded serious again. ‘That’s why one of us should be there. You need family.’
‘Family!’ Orsino didn’t hide his bitterness.
The closest family had come recently was when his father’s CEO, Christos Giatrakos, had made contact, wanting to cash in on Orsino’s reputation, requesting—no, demanding—that he be the ‘face’ of the company. Orsino and his father had never been close but at least the old man could have rung himself.
‘Yeah, well, I know I’ve been busy but—’
‘I didn’t mean you, Lucca.’ Orsino palmed his bristled jaw with his unbandaged hand, feeling like an ungrateful heel. ‘Sorry. I’m in a foul mood, not used to being stuck in a hospital bed. I shouldn’t take it out on you.’ He drew a slow breath, knowing his injuries were only part of the problem. ‘I appreciate the offer but there’s nothing you can do here.’
‘Maybe not now, but when you’re released from hospital you’ll need someone.’
‘You’re offering to play nurse?’ Orsino smiled. ‘It might be worth agreeing just to see it.’
His twin’s chuckle was the best thing he’d heard in days, warming him in ways thermal blankets hadn’t. Orsino hadn’t realised till this week what was important in his life. Now he knew, and he’d make it his business to catch up with his twin more regularly. But only after he’d recovered enough not to be a figure of sympathy.
‘Why do you always underestimate me, Orsino? Just because you’re a couple of minutes older?’
‘I’m picturing you in a starched cap and apron, Lucca. The idea has a certain appalling fascination.’ Orsino spoke again over his brother’s laugh. ‘Don’t worry about the nursemaid gig. I’ve lined up someone.’
‘Lucilla?’
‘No, though she called. Our big sister still worries about us after all these years, and despite the fact Giatrakos clearly runs her ragged.’
‘You need someone experienced, someone you can trust.’
Orsino bit back a bark of laughter. Trust?
He’d never trust her again. But there was a freedom, and power, in knowing that.
Poppy and he had unfinished business. That’s why she still haunted his thoughts. For five years he’d told himself he was done with the past, but in the burst of clarity that had come to him on the mountainside, he knew it would never be over till he’d faced her one more time.
Something lingered there. Something he had to face before he walked away for ever.
She’d hate being with him again. After what she’d done that would be tough, even for a woman so brazen. As for being at his beck and call while he recovered …
Orsino’s lips curved in a tight smile. He looked forward to making her squirm. It was small enough revenge for what she’d done.
‘Don’t fret, Lucca. The woman I have in mind is just what the doctor ordered.’
Poppy drew a jagged breath as the taxi wove through traffic.
Fear had crowded close from the moment news broke of the avalanche and the two injured climbers. Even strangers felt fear for Orsino and awe for what he’d done. She’d overheard them discussing it at the airport: Orsino Chatsfield’s heroism, or his foolhardiness, depending on your view.
She looked at her ringless hands twisting in her lap. It wasn’t fear she felt but terror. It grated through her empty stomach.
She hadn’t seen Orsino in five years but she couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. His vitality, his passion, oh, Lord, his passion!
Her hands clenched as memories rushed to the surface, heating her skin.
His arrogance. His demands. The way he was so ready to judge but so unready to face his own faults.
Despite all the negatives, a hard, heavy lump pressed down on her chest as if she’d swallowed an anvil.
The message from the hospital—so uninformative, yet so peremptory—had congealed the dread in her veins. It had sent her racing from France to the base of the Himalayas. She hadn’t caught her breath the whole way. Even now her heart pumped too fast.
The taxi stopped and Poppy looked out at the ugly hospital, her heart in her mouth.
She didn’t even blink when a cluster of press surged, bombarding her with questions. She barely heard them. All she could think of was what awaited her inside.
* * *
Poppy’s footsteps echoed in the silent corridor. With each step her nerves screwed tighter.
Please, please. Let him survive. Let him live.
She’d told herself she felt nothing for Orsino Chatsfield. The burn of negative feelings had died long ago, buried under the overload of sheer hard work that had taken her to the top of her profession. No time to feel hurt, regret or guilt when every waking hour was occupied. That’s what she’d told herself for five years. What she’d believed. Till yesterday.
The fact he’d almost died on one of the world’s most inhospitable mountains, might even now be dying, made her swallow convulsively, her throat clogging.
He couldn’t die.
Poppy stumbled. She who never faltered, not even in six-inch stilettos, navigating a catwalk artistically obscured by dry-ice vapour.
Finally she reached the last room. Taking a shaky breath she stepped in, only to halt as she spied the figure unmoving in the hospital bed.
He was so still that for a horrible few seconds she wondered if he breathed.
Poppy pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart battered her ribs so hard it felt like it might jump free.
Her gaze riveted on the bed. She couldn’t remember Orsino being still.