Page 67 of Beau
“No," he whispered hoarsely. “You are going to live, do you hear me, Georgie? You had better damn well live, if you know what’s good for you. You talked me into doing this and I agreed.” He kissed her hand feverishly. “I cannot do this without you. Youknow what my life was like before you. It was a royal mess, and you saved me.
Please don’t leave me. If you do, I am going straight into Miriam’s arms. I swear I will and pick up where we left off. I will move her into our home, our bed and–” e broke off and bowed his head over their joined hands.
“Oh darling, please don’t leave me.” His voice was ragged. “You promised me a lifetime and it’s too soon. Please stay with me, I beg you.”
*****
She spent two days in the medically induced coma and for those two days, Beau felt as if he was going crazy. He did not leave her side and barely ate anything. No number of threats from his father and the doctors could get him to budge. In the end, Blake had a meal catered right there in the room, one that he barely touched.
He was assured that her vital signs were improving and that the babies were holding their own, whatever the hell that meant. Buthis only concern was seeing her open her eyes. Having her talk to him.
He had talked so much, he was hoarse. Alternating between threats and entreaties, he had exhausted himself.
Waiting until the nurse assigned to her had left the room, he pulled up the chair and took her limp hand in his.
“I lost my mother and decided then and there that it was too painful to love someone so much that it felt as if you were being torn in two when they left you. I held a big part of me from ever getting fully involved. But with you, it was no choice. I never had a choice where you are concerned.”
He took a breath and stared at the unvarnished nails. One of the nurses had plaited her hair and the thick braid was resting on her left breast. She looked like a little girl, with no makeup on and her hair styled this way.
“There was never a choice with you,” he continued thickly. “I fell hard and for some reason, did not want to fight it. I couldn’t anyway. It just was. I would like you to wake up and look at me Georgie. I want to see those beautiful brown eyes staring at me, spitting fire when I say something offensive. I want us fighting, arguing and then making love.
Anything.” He bent his head over her hand. “Give me something darling. Please.” He had no idea he was crying until he saw the wetness on her hand. He was about to say something else when her fingers moved slowly.
Jerking his head up, he stared at her and wondered if it was his imagination.
“Georgie?” He held his breath as he watched to see if she would open her eyes.
“Darling? Can you hear me?”
Her lips moved, and he gripped her hand. “Baby, can you hear me?”
He went still as her eyelids flickered open slowly.
“I think even the dead can hear you.”
Those were simply the sweetest words he had ever heard, and he had to stop himself from jumping up and down.
The thickness in his throat was such that he could not speak for a full two seconds.
“It’s about time.” His voice was gruff, and he could feel the tears burning the back of his eyes.
Her hand squeezed his, her expression eloquent. “How long?”
“Two days, I have to get the doctors–”
“No. My babies?”
“They are fine.”
“I am sorry," she whispered, correctly interpreting his expression and realizing the worry she had caused him. “I was wrong and selfish. Oh darling, can you forgive me?”
“As long as you remain alive, then I am willing to forgive you just about anything.”
Extricating his hand from hers, he rose. “I really need to get the doctors.” Before she could stop him, he rushed from the room.
*****
“Where is my husband? Where is Beau?” she demanded when thirty minutes had lapsed, and he had not returned. She was prodded and poked and examined so thoroughly that she felt like she was a specimen on display at the museum. And she was tired and cranky and would like nothing better than to go home to her own bed.