The Bitter Price Of Love

Just in case! Reba’s fingers tightened on the telephone wire. ‘All right, I understand. Is she stable?’

‘Yes, but she was unconscious for such a long time. I was frightened, Reba,’ Maggie exclaimed, on the verge of tears again.

‘Of course you were, darling. Now, listen to me, Maggie, I’ll be coming home just as soon as I can. First I have some…arrangements to make. I’ll let you know what flight I’ll be on just as soon as I know myself. If Mum’s stable, then nothing is going to happen just yet, so do try to stop worrying. I’ll be there, I promise.’

She did her very best to reassure her younger sister before she rang off, but the truth of the matter was that she desperately needed reassurance herself. Suddenly, from walking on a cloud, she plunged into the pit of despair. Every time her mother suffered another setback, the chances of the operation being in time lessened. Which meant it had to take place now. They couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

She dropped her head in her hands. Oh, God, why now? Why now, when she had just met the most wonderful man, who loved her as much as she loved him, and wanted to marry her? Her heart cried out to marry him, and it was that very same heart which broke as she was forced to admit she couldn’t afford to. Hunter might be a wonderful man, but he couldn’t possibly help her mother when her need was so great! They needed money, and the only way she knew of to get it was to accept Eliot’s proposal. Eliot, whom she hadn’t thought of for weeks, was suddenly the answer to her prayers. She knew he was not the kind of man to refuse to help her. He would probably offer to pay without asking for any security, because he loved her. Yet it was precisely because he loved her that she couldn’t ask without making a commitment. She could only accept his help by accepting his proposal.

The knowledge brought with it a shattering pain. Why must she be tortured this way? Torn between love and duty. It wasn’t fair! But if she refused to help her mother now, she knew she would never forgive herself, because to do so would be passing the death sentence on her. She groaned in despair. Yet to marry Eliot when she was in love with another man…How could she do that? How could she possibly give Hunter up?

Back and forth the arguments battled inside her mind all night, wearing away at her spirit. By dawn she knew it was hopeless. She knew she would have to destroy something wonderful whatever course she chose. By the time the sun was above the horizon, she accepted she had no choice. She never had had. She loved both her mother and Hunter, but one had to be sacrificed. There wasn’t even a contest. Her mother would die, but Hunter wouldn’t. He would live on and get over her, if somehow she could make him hate her enough. There had to be a way, something bad enough to turn love to hate, because she couldn’t tell him that, although she loved him, would love him till she died, she was going to marry someone else.

If only he had been rich, like Eliot! But it was no use thinking like that. If-onlys were for fools. Hunter wasn’t rich, he was simply who he was, and she couldn’t tear his pride to shreds too by telling him he simply wasn’t rich enough to help her. She had to leave him something. Pride would get him through, as it must get her through the ordeal ahead.

The painful decision made, she felt curiously numb as she showered and changed into the cream linen trouser-suit she used for travelling. Then it was only a matter of waiting until a reasonable hour before picking up the telephone again. First she made arrangements for a flight to be booked for her, then asked to be put through to Maurice’s room.

‘Hello?’ the director barked, patently annoyed at being roused so early.

‘This is Reba, Maurice. Sorry, but I’ve had an urgent call from home. There’s been an emergency. I’m going to have to leave.’ She waited for the explosion she expected, and wasn’t disappointed.

‘You’re what? No way, toots. Absolutely no way are you walking out on this!’

His anger didn’t alarm her; she felt too numb. Her eyes travelled to the window, and it didn’t surprise her to see that the sun had disappeared. The sea looked angry and the wind had risen dramatically. Her lips twisted. Somehow it suited her mood. ‘I’ll be leaving on the first available flight,’ she told him bluntly.

‘You do that, toots, and I’m gonna make sure you never work in this burg again!’ Maurice threatened, slamming the phone down.

So much for that, she thought wearily as she replaced the receiver. She doubted if he had the clout to carry out his threat, but then she didn’t think she would be working for long anyway. Sighing, she crossed to the dressing-table. She had done the easy bit, now came the hard part. To do it she would need to look her best. She couldn’t let one iota of her inner misery show when she went to see Hunter. Fortunately she had been taught to use make-up to its full advantage, and the result was near-perfect. Now, if she could only manage a smile, she might just be able to pull off the acting job of her life!

Even when the taxi dropped her off at the marina, she still didn’t know what she would say. Her mind seemed to have gone blank. Not so her heart. It thrummed out a sickening beat as she traversed the jetties towards her goal. Hunter was there, working on deck, and he looked up when he heard footsteps, surprise then pleasure crossing his face by turns.

Jumping ashore, he waited for her to join him. ‘Hey, this is a nice surprise. I thought you’d be miles away by now.’

Training came to her aid, giving her the ability to smile through her pain. ‘I should have been, but there was a technical hitch. I have the morning off.’ The first lie, but who the hell was counting?

Hunter reached out a long arm, hooking her waist and pulling her into his arms. ‘Their loss is my gain, tiger-eyes,’ he growled and brought his head down to hers.

Reba kissed him with a desperate passion, knowing this was probably the very last time she would ever share something so wonderful. Tears scalded the backs of her eyes, but she beat them back. Then, unable to take any more, she dragged her mouth free, burying her head against his shoulder while her mind sought desperately for a way out.

‘What are you doing to the boat?’ she asked, noticing piles of gear stacked on deck, and using it as an excuse to ease away from him.

Hunter still managed to keep an arm around her, but he turned towards the yacht. ‘Jim Mitchell, the owner, has finally decided he’ll pick her up in Trinidad, so I’m getting her ready to sail down.’

Reba caught her breath, as sudden inspiration came to her. It wouldn’t be nice, but it was what she was looking for. She had known the agency had arranged the use of a millionaire’s yacht for the shoot, and that Hunter certainly wasn’t him. But what if she pretended she had thought that? What if she pretended she was that worst kind of woman—a gold-digger? Surely then he would turn against her, and, in the end, forget her?

She didn’t have to pretend shock; just the thought of what she was about to do had driven all colour from her face. She knew this was going to hurt her more than it would him, and it seemed to take an awful effort to find her voice. ‘Jim Mitchell’s yacht?’ she queried faintly.

At first Hunter didn’t register the strain in her voice. ‘He owns the company who owns the fashion-house you’re advertising. That’s how you got to use the yacht for your shoot.’

Deep inside her her soul screamed, as if it had just been dragged down into hell. He was making it so easy for her. Stiffly, as if she had suddenly aged a hundred years, Reba made herself face him. Lord, I’m so cold. So cold. ‘But…I thought this was your yacht?’ she said sharply, embarking on what she knew was going to be a living nightmare.

Her tone reached him now, and he frowned. His eyes scanned her, noting her paleness. There was a strange silence before he spoke. ‘Did you?’ he asked, and she had never heard that quality in his voice before.

The very flatness in the tone of those two words spoke volumes. He was way ahead of her now. She sensed it. A pain so fierce that it twisted her up almost brought a moan to her lips. Oh God, Hunter, I love you. Forgive me. Hands bunched into fists, she made herself sound angry, as if she were the aggrieved party. ‘You certainly acted as if you owned it!’

Hunter went still. His blue eyes had become shuttered, and when he spoke his voice cut like cold steel. ‘I see. You thought I was a rich man, didn’t you?’ A violent anger entered his eyes as he shook his head. ‘Boy, did you have me fooled. I actually thought you loved me too.’

Love him? She loved him so much she thought she might die from the pain. But she couldn’t. She had to shrug and wave her hand dismissively. ‘Of course I loved you, but…’ She let the word hang tellingly.

His beautiful mouth turned ugly. ‘But only because I was a rich man? Tell me, precisely what did you think messing about with boats meant?’

She had to swallow hard in order to answer. ‘That you owned the thing, of course!’

‘And so you thought you had it made when I asked you to marry me.’

She was going to shatter. Every hope and dream she had ever had was here, coalesced into this one man—and she couldn’t have him. It took every ounce of her courage to add to the lie. ‘I told you how important money was. I made up my mind a long time ago to marry a rich man.’

The love which had once blazed from his eyes was gone forever, replaced by a searing contempt. ‘Whether you love him or not?’

Every look and word was a blade to cut her with. She was amazed that he couldn’t see she was dying inside. She felt as if her emotions were written in neon. Yet her shrug was a perfect gem of indifference. ‘Naturally I’d prefer to love him. When I met you——‘

‘You thought you’d hit the jackpot!’ Hunter interrupted harshly, then abruptly moved away from her, as if the closeness would taint him. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but you just lucked out.’

Reba clung to her small victory as if it were a lifeline. Her words had worked. Already he hated her. Despair like she had never known threatened to overtake her, but she couldn’t give in to it. Now, or ever. ‘You win some, you lose some.’

Her words drew a glance so cold she flinched. ‘That’s your philosophy, is it?’

If only it were! Unfortunately she didn’t have another flip answer in her right then. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked finally.

‘Does it matter? I’ll probably put out, but wherever I go, it certainly won’t be where the rich hang out. I intend to go and get royally drunk, and thank my lucky stars I’m not rich, because I’ve just had a lucky escape from the greediest little gold-digger it’s ever been my misfortune to meet!’ he growled at her.

She caught back a sob by pressing her hand to her lips. ‘I do love you in my way, Hunter,’ she managed to say, wanting to tell him, even if he no longer listened.

His lip curled. ‘Sweetheart, you don’t know what love is. If you did, you wouldn’t have just thrown it all away. I don’t know who I pity most—you, or the man you eventually manage to snare. One day you’re going to find out money isn’t everything, Reba,’ he told her, and without another word he swung himself back on board and disappeared below.

Knowing her composure was about to desert her, Reba retraced her steps on legs which threatened to give out at any minute. She had done what she had set out to do, but there was no joy in the knowledge. Her whole body ached with the pain of her betrayal, but she hoped that one day he would thank her for what she had done. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing he wouldn’t go on wanting someone he could never have.

Hailing a cruising taxi, she collapsed inside and asked to be taken back to the hotel. She glanced at her watch, amazed to see that barely an hour had passed. Hysteria brought a lump to lodge in her throat. It had taken less than an hour to bring her world down around her. Somehow she had to salvage what she could and go on, but she knew she would never see Hunter again, and her heart was a dead thing inside her.

Then began her dark night of the soul. Back in her hotel room, she flung herself down on the bed and cried until there were no more tears left. In the state of numbness which followed, she told herself that there had been nothing else she could do. Too much rested on her, and she couldn’t selfishly abandon her mother to her fate. She loved Hunter. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had done the only thing she could for him, by making him hate her.

But it didn’t ease the pain. It would take months, even years, to make thinking about him halfway bearable.

Emotionally drained, she knew she would have to put on the second greatest act of her life in the next few days. Eliot at least didn’t expect a wild display of affection from her, but she would have to show him she was happy in her choice. She hadn’t decided when she would ask him for his help. That would depend on how she found her mother.

Harriet was the one who had to believe that Reba was happy. Neither she, nor the rest of the family, must ever know the sacrifice she had made. She knew her mother would blame herself for ruining her daughter’s life, and that was a situation Reba was determined to avoid. So, to all appearances, this marriage would be for love and no other reason.

At least that gave her a purpose, a reason to go on, and she flew home to England later that day, determined to appear happy. The house was empty when she reached it the following day, but Maggie had left her a note saying she had gone to the hospital, and that there was salad in the fridge for her if she wanted it. Having forced herself to eat on the plane, she only lingered long enough to wash and redo her make-up before driving herself to the hospital in the car she had left garaged at the house.

She called in to see the doctor first, and he was characteristically cautious.

‘As you know, every one of these attacks worsens her condition. Your mother is a very resilient woman, and she fights back every time, but it cannot go on indefinitely. The operation will still be able to help her so long as it takes place fairly soon. However, there will come a time when it is no longer viable, especially should she be unable to travel.’

This was pretty much what Reba had expected to hear, and it helped her to know that her decision had been the right one. ‘I expect to get the money very soon. If the operation was to take place within the next two or three months, that would still be OK, wouldn’t it?’ she queried, needing to know precisely. Either she asked Eliot before they were married, or after. Lord, just how did she go about asking for so large an amount?

The doctor pursed his lips. ‘I should think the sooner the better. Our best hope is that your mother doesn’t have another attack too soon.’

That was it then. It must be before the wedding. ‘I’ll have the money next week. Please go ahead and make all the arrangements.’

The doctor looked taken aback, but he rallied at once, not looking a gift horse in the mouth. ‘That’s good news. I’ll put the wheels in motion then, and let you know when everything is ready.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’ Reba’s own smile was tight, but he didn’t seem to notice. She went off in search of her mother then, finding her in a small ward that took four beds, two of which were empty at present.

‘Reba!’ Maggie was out of her seat as soon as she saw her sister’s head appear round the door. She was shorter than Reba, her hair browner and her eyes more hazel, but she was just as beautiful, in a less exotic way. ‘Thank goodness you’ve arrived.’

They hugged each other warmly, then Reba glanced over at the bed. ‘How is she?’

‘Better. The doctor says she may go home soon. I told her you were coming. She ticked me off!’

Reba smiled. ‘Then she must be better.’

Maggie grinned, as much in relief as amusement. ‘I’ll go and get you some coffee, shall I? I expect you’ll want to talk to her on your own for a bit.’

‘Actually I want to talk to you both, so don’t be long,’ she disagreed, and moved to her mother’s bedside as Maggie left the room.

Harriet Wyeth looked pale and drawn as she lay against her pillows, but her eyes were as sharp as ever as she looked up at her eldest child.

‘I told Maggie she shouldn’t have sent for you,’ she protested.

Reba bent down to kiss her mother’s cheek, then sat down in the chair her sister had vacated. ‘I’m glad she did. I would have come anyway. I’ve some news for you.’

Harriet pulled herself a little higher up the pillow. ‘Good news?’

‘The very best,’ she agreed, taking her mother’s hand and squeezing it gently.

‘What have I missed?’ Maggie demanded to know, returning just then with the coffee which she set down on the locker.

‘Nothing, darling,’ Harriet assured her at once. ‘Reba was just saying she’s got some good news for us. Tell us, dear, or Maggie is going to burst.’

‘I will not!’ Maggie protested, but she looked across avidly at her sister all the same.

Reba licked her lips. She had prepared what she was going to say during the endless flight, and now hoped she could pull it off. ‘Well, I didn’t like to say anything before I went away, but this assignment brought us very near the total we need. Then I managed to earn some bonuses too, so the good news is that you should be having your operation very soon, Mum!’ she announced, and the look on her mother’s face was reward enough for all her own sorrow.

‘Oh, Reba!’ Her mother’s soft exclamation was drowned out by Maggie’s squeal of delight, quickly followed by a sudden rush of tears.

‘Are you pleased?’

Harriet’s fingers tightened on her daughter’s. ‘Of course I am, but for your sake. You’ve worked so hard, and I never thought it was fair to ask so much of you. I’ve longed to be able to get up and help. I’ve felt so angry and helpless! But now you can stop and get on with your own life.’

‘Mum, if you could get up and walk, you would. We all know that,’ Maggie said as she wiped her eyes.

‘And I am going to get on with my life,’ Reba added quickly. ‘That’s my other piece of news. I’m going to get married.’ There, it was out, and she hadn’t made a mess of it—yet.

Harriet Wyeth’s surprise quickly changed to delight. ‘Married? Why, Reba, that’s wonderful news. Who is it? Do I know him?’

‘His name is Eliot, Mother. Eliot Thorson the Third, to be exact. You don’t know him, but I’m hoping you’ll meet him soon.’

Her mother’s eyes widened. ‘Good heavens, with a name like that, he sounds well off.’

Reba laughed, even as she felt heat invade her cheeks. ‘Actually, his family does happen to own one of the largest hotel chains in the States,’ she enlightened them calmly, hoping they would mistake guilt for self-consciousness.

‘Do you love him very much, Reba?’ Harriet asked softly.

Love him? In an instant Reba’s mind threw up the picture of a pair of intense blue eyes, before the need for self-preservation made her blank it out. They weren’t for her, and right now she couldn’t allow herself to remember that pain.

‘Yes, I love him. Eliot’s a wonderful man.’ The lie tripped easily off her tongue. She was getting good at it. ‘You’ll like him.’

Harriet smiled. ‘Of course I will. I’ll like any man who loves you and can make you happy, Reba. It’s been my dearest wish that you should fall in love one day,’ she added gently, unwittingly opening a wound that could never heal.

Pain caught Reba unprepared, and she was glad her watery eyes and smile were misinterpreted. ‘Everything is turning out right after all, isn’t it?’ she said gruffly. ‘We’re fighters and survivors, and we’ve won through.’

Harriet Wyeth laughed through her own tears. ‘Yes, darling, we have. And now you’re going to do something for yourself and be happy, Reba.’

Reba uttered a choked laugh. ‘I will be. Marrying Eliot will make me happy. Very, very happy,’ she insisted firmly.

‘So when is the wedding to be, and can I be bridesmaid?’ Maggie asked, grinning all over her face because her world had been miraculously brightened.

Reba pulled a wry face. ‘We haven’t decided. Actually, Eliot doesn’t even know I’ve accepted.’ Seeing their two startled expressions, she eased in yet another lie. ‘You see, he asked me before this assignment, and although I would have said yes, Eliot insisted I take this time to make sure. I had to see you first—that’s why I’ve told you. I’m going to fly back to New York and tell him myself, now that I know you’re OK.’ This was make or break. If her mother should smell a rat…

But she didn’t; she merely shook her head and laughed.

‘You young people do things in the most crazy way! Now, take a deep breath and tell me all about him.’

With her boats well and truly burned, Reba could do nothing else but accept the invitation with all the enthusiasm she could muster. Perhaps if she told herself she would be happy often enough, one day it might even come true.

CHAPTER THREE

REBA flew back to New York in the middle of the following week. Those few days with her family had been a strain, but somehow she had managed to get through them without breaking down. That first evening at home she had cried long into the night, her tears muffled by her pillow, but it had been the last time. Afterwards she told herself firmly that there was nothing to gain from thinking it could have been different, that Eliot was the wrong man. What was done was over, and now Eliot was the only man.

Which was why she didn’t waste time unpacking when she returned to her apartment. Instead she took a quick shower and changed into a fashionable suit with a short black skirt and buttercup-yellow jacket. Once again she made up well, needing to mask her vulnerable emotions and give them some necessary protection. A dash of perfume, and she was ready to go and search out Eliot, knowing that the sooner this was over the better. She had to be honest with him about her mother, for which she had permission now that they were to be family.

As expected, he was in his office at the family’s flagship hotel. He wasn’t expecting her, but the pleasure on his face when he saw her walk in warmed her aching spirit.

‘Hello, Eliot. I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ she apologised, closing the door behind her and advancing into the wood-panelled office.

He met her halfway. ‘You have my permission to disturb me any time you like, sweetheart. I’m always happy to see you, you know that. God, you look so beautiful, I’m just going to have to kiss you!’ he declared, and proceeded to do just that. Reba returned the kiss more warmly than she ever had, making a statement he wasn’t sure he understood, from the way he frowned down at her when he raised his head again. ‘Reba?’

She laughed, but it was off-key. ‘Yes, Eliot. I came home early to give you my answer, and the answer is yes, I will marry you.’

Uncertainty turned to joy, and he swept her back into his arms, hugging her almost breathless. ‘You’ll never regret it, sweetheart, never. I know you don’t love me, but you will. I’m going to love you so much that you won’t be able to help yourself!’

Reba’s hands clutched at the fine material of his jacket, laughing a little desperately as her eyes misted. ‘Oh yes, Eliot, do that! And I promise I’ll make you a good wife. We’ll be happy, won’t we?’ It was a cry from the depths of her despairing heart.

‘Ecstatically happy,’ he agreed as he released her and, with the eagerness of a small boy, crossed to his desk and buzzed his secretary. ‘Hilary, get them to send up a bottle of the finest champagne and two glasses, will you? And while you’re about it, ring my jeweller and have them bring round a selection of engagement-rings. Reba has just agreed to marry me.’

Reba didn’t hear what Hilary said, but it obviously pleased Eliot, for he laughed and rubbed his hands. Shaking his head and grinning, he stood and stared at her as if unable to believe his luck.