‘I don’t want it to be.’
‘But haven’t you noticed? Sometimes things are just naturally matched together, even when you fight against it? And even when you don’t completely understand why?’
He wasn’t talking about a jacket any more.
It was just him and her. He was looking at her with those deep brown eyes. There was no sexy, charming smile. There was no cheeky twinkle. All she could see was complete sincerity.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears that had automatically formed not to spill down her cheeks. It was easier not to look at him. ‘You didn’t trust me, Mitchell. You thought I might sell you out for money. You thought I would betray the staff and those kids at the hospital for money.’ She pressed her hand to her chest and this time she did open her eyes. ‘That’s the kind of person you believe me to be.’
He shook his head fiercely. ‘No. No, I don’t. I’m just so used to protecting that place, so used to counting on one hand the number of people that I can actually trust, that I was on autopilot.’
‘You were on autopilot?’ She couldn’t hide the scorn in her voice. ‘And did that apply to everything we did together—autopilot?’
He didn’t hesitate in his response. ‘Absolutely not. Definitely not.’ He reached out to touch her but she pulled her hand away as if he’d given her an electric shock.
She couldn’t deal with the sensation of how her body reacted to his on top of everything else.
‘Can’t you tell that everything between us was special—was meant to be?’ This time he didn’t let her shy away. His hand reached out and cupped her cheek.
‘I didn’t know that this diabetes would be the best thing that could happen to me. I didn’t know that it would bring me you.’
Her heart was thudding in her chest. She wanted to believe all this, she wanted to respond. But too many other things were getting in the way. What if this was all just an elaborate plan to continue with the tour?
She shook her head. She couldn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t want to be sucked in by the pleading look in his deep eyes.
‘You can’t play me, Mitch. I won’t be part of your façade. I’ve told you. I’ll send the email saying you can do the tour—as long as you have supervision. And I don’t care who that is, as long as it’s not me.’ She waved her hands. ‘I can bet there will be a million specialist nurses who can’t wait to help you out. I can even give you a recommendation or two.’
‘Is that what it will take?’
The short answer pulled her back into the present. ‘What do you mean?’
He stood up, grabbing her arms and pulling her towards him, his face inches from hers. She didn’t even have the opportunity to move as he put a hand on either hip and held her firmly in place.
‘Is that what it will take? Hiring someone else to be my nurse, to get you to come back? Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you want. I would much rather that you were my nurse.’ He tilted his head to the side. ‘You have a certain way with you.’
She couldn’t focus. ‘Why, why would you want me to come back?’
He shifted his hand from her hip and pressed it on her chest. ‘Because I can’t think without you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t breathe without you. And none of it is to do with a medical condition. I need you, Samantha. There is no me without you.’
‘You can’t mean that.’
‘I can. I know how I feel. I want that moment back, Sam. That moment in the hangar when it was just you and me. You were looking up at me on the stage as if I were the only man in the world. I want that. I want that for a lifetime.’ He moved his hand to his chest. ‘I know how I feel in here. Tell me you don’t feel that way too. Tell me right now, and I’ll let you get on that plane back to England. I’ll pay your fees and never see you again.’ His voice was getting desperate as his emotions were overcoming him.
She felt her legs start to tremble again. The one thing she didn’t want. The one thing she could never want. Never to see Mitchell Brody again. Never hear his voice, never feel the touch of his skin next to hers. It was almost unbearable.
A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘I don’t know, Mitch. I just don’t know.’ She was shaking her head again. ‘I’m so angry at you for not trusting me. I don’t know how to get past that.’
He nodded. ‘I know. It’s like my brain doesn’t function properly when I’m having a hypo. It feels as if all bets are off. My mouth says all the things that ever flit through my brain—even just for a second. You know, the thousands of things that you would never actually say out loud. I can’t control it, Sam. I really can’t.’ He reached up and stroked her hair. ‘Just know that it’s not how I really feel. It’s not what I really think. I love you, Sam. I don’t want you to go anywhere. In fact, whatever you want, just name it. I’ll do anything for you, Sam Lewis.’
She bit her lip. She had experienced this before. She had seen the quietest kids in the world have a hypoglycaemic attack and become completely unrecognisable—say and do things she would never have expected. Mitch wasn’t so unusual. He’d been desperate. He was trying to save the place that had helped give him his brother back.
He reached into his pocket. ‘If you’d waited another five minutes, my head would have been back in place and I could have told you all this then. I also could have given you this.’ He held out the little blue box.
‘What is it?’ Her hands were trembling as she pulled at the little ribbon on top of the box. She lifted the lid. There, sitting on the pale blue velvet, was a thick silver bracelet and beautiful silver charm in the shape of a pair of skates. Along the blades glittered clear white stones—she could only guess they were diamonds.
It was the charm she’d spotted in the window of the shop in Innsbruck. Only the charm had been customised. Another few bright blue stones glittered next to the catch on the bracelet. It was truly beautiful.
She was struck by how thoughtful the gift was. Mitchell Brody was wealthy enough to buy the biggest diamond necklace or ring in the world. But it would be meaningless to her.
This wasn’t. This was something that they’d shared together. Something he’d valued enough to make special for her.
He pointed to the blue stones. ‘They match your eyes. Just the perfect colour.’
She smiled. ‘It’s beautiful, Mitch. I love it. Thank you.’
He looked scared to smile in return. ‘What does that mean? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?’
She shook her head and spoke quietly. ‘I’m not going to stay, Mitch.’ She wound her hands around his neck. ‘I’m going to go home to see my mum.’
His face fell. She’d never seen him look so wounded, so dejected. So she pressed her lips close to his ear. ‘But I’m kind of hoping you’ll come with me. I’m hoping you’ll decide to spend the few days between now and your tour coming home with me to meet my mum.’ She laughed. ‘I can’t possibly consider dating someone my mum hasn’t met yet.’ She got serious again. ‘I want that moment back too, Mitch. You and me. For a lifetime. I want to hear you sing like that to me every night for the rest of my life.’
She could feel the tension dissipate throughout his body, the relief flood through his veins. He turned his face to press his lips next to hers. ‘I think I can do that.’ He slid his hands down her sides. ‘And dating? Is that what we’re going to be doing? Because I’m versatile with my singing,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I can even do it naked.’
She raised herself up on tiptoe. ‘Well, we’ve got to start somewhere,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘but let me keep that naked singing as a definite possibility.’ And she kissed him, over and over again.
EPILOGUE
PRESS RELEASE:
After disappearing for a few months after his spectacular worldwide tour Mitchell Brody seems to have been making g
ood use of his time.
He’s just announced that he’s married twenty-nine-year-old Samantha Lewis, who was originally acting as his nurse after his surprise diagnosis with diabetes last year. Mitchell, who is now an ambassador for diabetes worldwide, also announced the arrival of his son, Jude Shaun Brody, who was born last night weighing seven pounds three ounces.
He and his family ask for some privacy at this time to enjoy married life and their new arrival.
* * * * *