Page 41 of London
“Between Danielle and me? Absolutely not.”
“But she wants there to be.”
Gerard was too tired to smile. “Would I sound like a jerk if I said I couldn’t care less?”
One eyebrow rose skeptically.
He reached for her hands and drew her close to him.
“I don’t like games, Linda, and I hate lies. You’re the only woman I care about. Trust me. You don’t have to be jealous of Danielle or of anyone else. I’m not interested in any other woman. You’re all that I want, all that I need.”
Linda stared up at him, the clouds in her troubled eyes dissipating. She hugged him tightly and then released him.
“Take whatever else you need, and let’s go home. We’ll come back and clean up tomorrow. Maybe the police will have news by then.”
“Maybe, but I’m not optimistic.”
He pulled her back into his arms and rested his chin on her hair. While he tried to keep his cool and be grateful there hadn’t been more damage, the incident affected him deeply. He’d heard about this sort of thing all the time, but it was different when he was the victim.
“This isn’t how I imagined tonight would end,” he said bitterly, his mouth pressed against her hair.
“How did you imagine it would end?”
He stroked her back, visualizing the sappy scenario he’d planned. He’d spent several minutes practicing the Italian words he’d found on the internet that morning.
“Well, I was going to invite you inside, and say something like ‘la mia casa è la tua casa’. My home is your home. It seems it’s the other way around now.”
She looked up suddenly. “You speak Italian? Your pronunciation is perfect.”
He grinned sheepishly. “No. I looked up a few words to impress you and practiced saying them.”
Her eyes filled with joy and her arms tightened around him.
“I wouldn’t be more impressed if you’d given me a truck full of roses and a thirty karat diamond.”
He lowered his arms. At the moment, his emotions were raw. He could make a fortune if he sold his serum to some pharmaceutical company, and there would be plenty of them eager to get their hands on it once it was approved, but at what cost? The image of his young patients floated through his mind. He realized he could never sell his soul and profit from their pain. If Linda wanted a rich man, she would have to look elsewhere.
“I’ll never be able to spoil you like that, Linda,” he said softly, his tone regretful but firm. “I wish I could, but I’ll never make that kind of money. You need to know that before we go any farther.”
Linda lifted her arms and framed his face with her palms. “I don’t give a damn about money, Gerard. I was married to a man whose bank account was far bigger than his heart could ever be. I care about you because you’re intelligent, sensitive, caring, dedicated, and sexy as hell.” She lowered her eyes, her cheeks pinking.
He covered her palms with his. Her words invigorated him. He kissed her fingertips, and hoped to God she would never change her mind.
“Come on, get some clothes so we can get out of here,” she said. “I’m asleep on my feet. It’s been a long, hard day, but tomorrow will be better, you’ll see.”
“I’ll have to call Mrs. Orwell and get a couple of days off to sort out this mess. I won’t be long.”
He entered the bedroom. Even the mattress was off the bed on its side. What the hell had they been thinking? Did anyone really hide money under the mattress these days? Patterson was right, something was wrong here. The entire situation made no sense, but he was too tired to think clearly. He needed sleep to restore his ability to focus and put things into perspective.
Gerard grabbed a couple of pairs of boxers, a clean and reasonably unwrinkled shirt, a pair of jeans, as well as his toothbrush from the bathroom. He looked around the room one last time, wondering if he needed anything else. He spotted something in the corner. His gut tightened. No! Not that!
He dragged his feet across the room, knelt beside the nightstand, his fingers brushing across the jagged shards of glass. The snow globe his father had given him for Christmas when he’d been five years old lay in ruins.Papahad told him Santa Claus had brought it especially for him.
As a child, Gerard used to spend hours watching the globe, with its tiny house surrounded by trees, all covered in snow. There was a snowman in the yard and a sleigh that seemed to be waiting for the children to come out of the house to play. He used to shake the globe and watch the snow fall, immersed in that magical world. He’d always dreamed of putting his hand inside, to see if the snow was as soft and cold as it looked, to discover whether or not the snowman’s gloves were knitted. He reached out to pick up the broken toy. The liquid inside was gone, the snowman crumbled, and broken glass had chopped off the roof on the tiny house.
Rage filled him as a tear slid down his cheek. Whoever had done this wouldn’t get away with it. Somehow, he would find the bastard responsible and make sure he paid for what he’d done.
Linda entered the room and stepped over to him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.
