“Chase.” Sloane didn’t have to ask. She already knew.
“Yes,” Eric said with a fatherly, kind smile on his handsome face.
“I’m not sure she’s ready,” Madeline said, stepping between the doctor and Sloane.
Madeline knew how her daughter felt about Chase, and perhaps she was responding to his absence. In any event, she was playing protective parent and Sloane realized she and her stepmother had some serious catching up to do.
“Sloane?” Eric asked over her stepmother’s shoulder, patiently awaiting her decision.
“My family has some business to take care of,” she said pointedly to Madeline. “You need to be by Dad’s side through all this.”
And they all knew what this meant. “You two go discuss strategy and let Eric send Chase in.” She drew a deep breath. “I can handle him,” she said with more confidence than she felt. Especially with the drugs making her exhausted and the pain wearing her out.
A few more protestations by Madeline and reassurances by Sloane, and Michael finally led his entourage out of her room, leaving Sloane alone. Alone to compose her words and find the strength to say good-bye to Chase.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Chase waited until after Sloane’s family left, then gave her a few minutes alone before walking toward her room. It wasn’t easy, being patient, but he hoped the reward would be well worth the anticipation. Knocking once, he stepped inside, his pulse pounding a mile a minute and his heart in his throat. There wasn’t a cliché he wasn’t feeling at the moment and his gut told him all these rare and extraordinary emotions were normal.
After all, when was the last time he’d laid his heart at a woman’s feet?
Swallowing hard, he looked at Sloane for the first time since seeing her passed out on the floor, blood splattered everywhere. Now she lay in the bed, a vision against the standard white hospital sheets. Though her face was pale, her copper hair gave her a vibrant look, warming his heart.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He stepped forward, pulling out from behind his back the flowers he’d bought at the concession downstairs. “You sure know how to scare a guy.”
Sloane laughed, but he knew her well enough to recognize the strain in the sound.
“There’s nothing wrong with keeping you on your toes.”
She did that. In spades. Which was probably one of the reasons that this woman affected him so deeply, when so many others had tried and failed. Sloane didn’t have to try. From the day he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been a goner. He just hadn’t known it at the time, and had fought it every day since.
But the more he learned about Sloane Carlisle, from her strength and resolve, to her determination and loyalty, the more she had an impact on him. He wanted her in his life and was damn glad he’d realized it at last. Walking to the bed, he eased himself beside her, placing the flowers on a bedside tray.
“You didn’t need to bring flowers.” But she smiled gratefully.
He shrugged. “I had nothing else to do while waiting for permission to see you.”
Sloane burst out laughing. “You’re such a charmer.”
“I do try.” He grinned, grateful to see her back to her normal, teasing self. And as long as he didn’t focus on the bandage, he could almost convince himself she hadn’t come close to dying.
He sucked in a shallow breath. “Much pain?”
“No. The morphine pretty much covers that.” She gestured to the IV attached to her arm.
He winced, shaking his head. “I wish it were me lying there.”
“I’m really okay,” she assured him.
He curled his hands into tight fists. “But I’m not. I should have been with you.”
“And then Samson wouldn’t have been. I was really connecting with him, Chase.” She placed her good hand over her heart. “I mean, I was getting to understand him better.
That wouldn’t have happened if we’d had an audience.”
He gritted his teeth, accepting her answer. But he still blamed himself for letting her go off alone. “I promised you’d be safe.”
“Promised who? Madeline?” she asked.
And wasn’t it just like Sloane to return to the heart of the matter, Chase thought. “No, sweetheart. I promised myself.” Reaching out, he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead, taking advantage and letting his fingertips trail down and stroke her soft cheek. “I failed you.”
“And that’s unacceptable for Chase Chandler, white knight?” Her voice held a tinge of resentment as she nailed his biggest flaw.
“Is there something wrong with that?” he asked.
She shook her head slowly. “Of course not. How can I find fault with the traits that make you an exceptional man?”
“I wouldn’t canonize me just yet,” he said wryly. “Especially since nothing changes the fact that I want you so bad, I ache. I want to bury myself inside you and prove to us both you’re alive.” He didn’t seek to shock her as much as to state the bald truth.
She laughed softly. “No, I wouldn’t nominate you for sainthood either.” She placed a warm hand over his. “And I want you too. Very much. Probably too much, considering.
And I always will. That’s the problem.”
Relief hit him with intense force. He obviously hadn’t driven her away, no matter how hard he’d foolishly tried. “I don’t see any problems.”
She squeezed his hand tighter. “I’ve done the affair thing. I’ve lived in the moment, telling myself I’d take what I could get with you and then deal with the letdown later, once I was home. But I just got shot.” She shook her head, then had to release his hand to pull her hair off her face.
He missed her warmth and hoped it wasn’t a prelude of a bigger withdrawal to come.
“I learned life’s too short to settle for less than everything,” she told him, meeting his gaze.
“Then I have to repeat myself. I don’t see a problem. Because I’ve come to the same conclusion myself.” His heart beat out a rhythm he’d never felt before—fear, excitement, and adrenaline combining to put him on edge. “I told you once before, I love you, Sloane.
I meant it then, but I’m ready to act on it now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, attempting to breathe and yet holding his breath as he waited for her to reply.
Her eyelashes fluttered closed. A lone tear dripped down one cheek. He caught it with his thumb, tasting the salty moisture and drawing strength from making her a part of him in such a tiny but intimate way.