In Graywolf’s Hands Read online

  Seeing the badge at Lydia’s belt, the attendant reluctantly nodded.

  “Just the hallway,” he emphasized.

  Taking the chair back with her to where she and Lukas had parted, Lydia sat beside the operating room doors to keep vigil. And to try to remember how to address a power she had turned her back on.

  Rodriguez found her there a few minutes later. The look of concern he was wearing faded from his young face. “The assistant director’s looking for you.”

  A wave of weariness washed over her. She supposed she was derelict in her duty, but she wasn’t up to anything further now. Right now, she just wanted to be a woman waiting for her man.

  “There’s nothing left but paperwork, Special Agent. Tell him I’ll get to it when I come in later.”

  Rodriguez was grinning. “No, what he wanted me to tell you if I found you was ‘nice work.’” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Somebody said that was a first for him.”

  “Actually, I think you’re right.” The man was far from lavish with his praise. She smiled. “Tell him thanks.”

  Unwilling to leave her side just yet, Rodriguez hovered protectively. “Is there anything I can get you? Something to eat, maybe?”

  The thought of food made her queasy. “Coffee would be nice.”

  Delighted to be of service, Rodriguez was already on his way. “You got it.”

  There were five empty coffee containers in various stages of crumple lined up beside the metal legs of Lydia’s folding chair, one large one that Rodriguez had brought to her from the corner café and four smaller ones obtained from the vending machine down the hall. The coffee there was foul, but it was hot and black and she required little else as the minutes dragged themselves around the circumference of the hall clock, forming hours.

  Her whole body felt stiff with tension. She was vaguely aware that bypass surgery took time, but how long she hadn’t a clue. And she was afraid to go anywhere beyond the bathroom, which was conveniently located next to the vending machine, to ask someone for fear that she would miss Lukas when he came out.

  She wanted to be there for him, to be the first person he saw no matter what the result of the surgery, good or bad.

  Despite the massive doses of caffeine that were coursing through her veins, as well as the tension gnawing away at her, Lydia was beginning to feel sleepy. If she felt like this, what did Lukas feel like, she wondered, standing all this time over the body of his uncle, battling for his life?

  She tried to put herself in his shoes and couldn’t.

  Most of all, she wanted to comfort him, to be there for him. But she was at a loss as to exactly what to do, what to say, once he came out.

  And then the doors parted.

  Seven hours after he’d gone in, Lukas Graywolf slowly walked out of the operating room, a man who had fought the good fight and was exhausted beyond words because of it. He’d taken off his mask. It dangled around his neck.

  The moment the doors opened, Lydia was on her feet, almost sending her folding chair crashing to the floor. She caught it just in time, her eyes never leaving Lukas’s face.

  He looked pale, she thought, and she couldn’t read his expression. Was he just tired, or heartsick? Had he won, or lost?

  Lydia realized that despite the noise she’d made, he was oblivious to her presence. Afraid of intruding, unwilling to back away, she touched his shoulder.

  “Hey,” she said quietly.

  He looked at her. For a second he felt as if he were still in some kind of a dream. Or was she real?

  “Hey,” he echoed, then scrubbed his hand over his face. God, but he felt as if he’d been in there a hundred hours. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “Almost seven. An eternity since you went in.” She bit her lower lip. The question had to be asked, there was no subtle way to find out the results. “How is he?” she asked softly.

  “Alive.” Even as he said it, Lukas was in awe of the fact. His uncle’s heart had stopped and now it was beating again. The wonder of it would remain with him forever. Almost afraid to let it, he could feel joy flooding through him. “Breathing.” He allowed himself a hint of a smile. “It looks good.”

  Relieved, she threw her arms around Lukas and hugged hard. The tears she’d held back for so many years dampened his shoulder. “I’m so glad for you.”

  He could feel her tears, hear her joy. Both took him by surprise. His uncle was no one to her, yet she was affected by his recovery.

  “Yeah, me, too.” And then he really looked at her, bits and pieces of reality floating together for him. He hadn’t thought it possible, but his heart swelled even more. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting to find out if your uncle’s all right.”

  Because it was a great comfort to him, Lukas slipped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. He’d almost lost her today, too. But he hadn’t. She was still alive. And here. The day had turned out to be pretty damn great. “No other reason?”

  A hint of a coy smile crept to her lips. “Well, I was waiting for you, too.”

  He already knew that, and he hadn’t been hinting for an admission. “No, I mean it’s not because of Conroy, or that other scum—”

  “Fiske,” she supplied. “No, they’re both on their way to jail, Fiske to wait for proper arraignment and Conroy to go to the medical ward at County. A man strong enough to hold a gun doesn’t have to be pampered.” Suddenly she felt awkward. He looked tired and should be on his way home. She had no idea if there was a place there for her. “Elliot’s going to be all right,” she told him. “Janice said they were admitting him overnight for observation, but there’s every indication that he’ll go home tomorrow.”

  “That’s good.”

  Her awkward feeling intensified. She looked at the chair. “I guess I’d better take this back to the lounge. The attendant didn’t look too happy about lending it out when I took it.”

  But she’d taken it anyway. That sounded like her. He smiled at her. “Lydia, do you have a few minutes?”

  She had eternity if he wanted it, she thought. Those few minutes this morning had changed everything for her, had made her reorder her priorities.

  If she told him, he’d probably laugh at her, she thought.

  “Sure.” She waited. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

  “Yes.” He looked around. Things had gotten back to normal. It was as if there had never been a siege or a hostage situation, as if he’d just had a nightmare and now it was over. Except that she was still here. “But not in the hallway. Want some coffee?”

  She laughed, glancing at the battalion of paper cups on the floor. “If you squeeze my hand, you might be able to pour yourself a cup.” When he looked at her quizzically, she nodded at the mini-squadron.

  “All right then, want to grab some food to go with all that coffee?” He didn’t care what the pretext was, he just wanted to get her alone for a few minutes. Just long enough to get something off his chest.

  Her stomach rumbled, speaking for her. Lydia laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

  Shedding his scrubs and leaving them in his locker, Lukas took her to the small café around the corner where Rodriguez had bought the coffee for her hours ago.

  He felt edgy as he waited for their orders to be brought to the table. It was like waiting for the stage to be set, for the curtain to finally lift. The way the curtain had finally lifted for him.

  He would have thought that, after all he had been through today, there wasn’t an ounce of tension left within his body. Apparently, there was an endless supply.

  After the second the waiter set down their sandwiches and accompanying beverages and backed away, Lukas took her hand.

  “We need to talk,” he prefaced, then saw her frown. “What?”

  She pulled her hand back. Contact would only make what was coming that much worse.

  “That never means anything good.” Like an old-fashioned lawman, she headed him off at the pass. “
You don’t have to worry, Lukas. Just because I kept vigil while you were operating on your uncle doesn’t mean I’m trying to lay squatter’s rights to some space in your life. What we said this morning goes.”

  He vaguely remembered the words. And hated what they represented. “No it doesn’t,” he contradicted. “Not anymore. Things have changed.”

  She looked at her cola and wished for something stronger, something to temporarily settle her nerves. But that was the coward’s way out. She lifted her chin, telling herself she was ready for this no matter how roundabout his path.

  “What things?”

  How come wrestling a gun away from a madman was easier than speaking his mind? And a hell of a lot easier than speaking his heart?

  Taking a deep breath, Lukas plunged in. “You know how when you face death, your life is supposed to pass before your eyes?” She nodded. “Well, when Conroy was about to shoot you, my future passed before my eyes.” He reached for her hand again. This time, looking somewhat stunned, she left it in his. “A future without you, and I realized that I didn’t want it. Didn’t want to go back to what I had because I didn’t have anything. It had me.” He couldn’t say it any plainer than that, he thought. He put his entire fortune into the pot, betting all. “Now I’d like to know if you’ll have me.”

  “Have you?” she echoed. He couldn’t possibly be driving at what she thought he was driving at.

  The edginess was carving neat little pieces out of him, stacking them by the roadside. “In marriage.”

  It was only through supreme effort that she didn’t gape. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

  Frustration snapped its jaws around him as he feared the worst. That she’d turn him down. “I guess I wasn’t making myself clear.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly, “it’s me. My brain just fogged up.” Her mouth curved slightly in awe. “And I’m having a fantasy I don’t want to wake up from.”

  She found herself suddenly wanting to share things with him. To give him a part of herself she’d held back, even when they’d made love together.

  To bring them closer.

  “Elliot said that my problem was that I was looking for a man like my father.” She’d always denied it, but at bottom, she knew it was true. “Strong, honorable, decent to the point of being selfless.”

  Was this her way of gently turning him down? “Hard shoes to fill.”

  Her eyes reflected the smile she felt within her. “I think they’ve been filled. And then some.”

  It was his turn not to grasp what was being said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Lydia nodded. “I am if you think I’m saying yes.” The grin nearly split her face. “The answer is yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I always wanted to find a doctor I could trust.” She looked at him significantly, touching her breast. “You see, I’ve been having some heart trouble lately.”

  Picking up her tone, he arched his brow. “Is it serious?”

  She nodded solemnly. “Very serious.”

  He kept a straight face, even when he felt like cutting loose with a whoop of joy.

  “Bears some looking into.”

  She could feel her heart accelerating with anticipation. “How soon can you start looking?”

  He cupped her cheek with his hand. He was the type, he realized, who had to almost lose something before he became aware of how truly precious it was to him. “The second I get you home.”

  Her eyes softened, already making love to him. “Sounds good to me.”

  Because the tables were very small, he had no trouble leaning over the one they were sitting at. Lukas sealed his proposal and both their futures with a long, languid, deep kiss.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6845-0

  IN GRAYWOLF’S HANDS

  Copyright © 2002 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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