Rebel with a Cause

Sophy’s heart was breaking. She needed her father to know, to under stand. ‘I love him, Dad.’

The sharp intake of breath was audible—but it didn’t come from either of her parents. Sophy turned her head. Lorenzo stood in the doorway.

‘You’re awake. Are you okay?’ The edge of panic was evident both in the speed of the question and the hesitancy as he hovered.

She licked her horribly dry lips.

‘Edward, let’s go get some fresh coffee.’ Her moth

er suddenly stood. ‘Come on. She can’t have too many people in here at once. She’ll get too tired.’

Sophy watched the two men looking at each other—saw some message she couldn’t interpret pass between them.

Lorenzo moved closer, where she could see him better. He was so pale.

‘Sophy.’ His voice broke. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It was my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.’

He shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have made you so upset. I never wanted to hurt you like this.’

The brush-off. Again. It was so embarrassing. Dully she admitted the truth. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed for something you never wanted to give.’

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But not about that. I’m scared—just like you said. A coward. You scare me to death—how you make me feel scares me.’ He moved quickly, sat in the seat near her head. ‘I don’t know that I can give you what you want from me.’

‘Lorenzo.’ She took in a deep breath. She’d take all there was—no matter how little. She loved him. She wanted him. She was happy when with him. She didn’t need all the bells and whistles. She just needed him. ‘All I want is whatever you have to give.’

He stared at her. The dark eyes tortured, the unhappiness hurting her more than the relentless pounding in her head and in her heart. ‘But you deserve so much more than that. So much more than me.’

‘No.’ Her eyes filled. She didn’t want him to push her away like that. No one else could give her what he could. ‘I want you. That’s all. Just you.’

‘And I want you. But I don’t want to make you unhappy. And I have.’

She opened her mouth but he kept talking.

‘It’s all new to me. You know that—the whole big family thing. But I’ll try, if you want me to.’

She trembled and his hand quickly covered hers.

‘What made you change your mind?’

‘Nearly losing you today.’ His voice wavered again.

‘I got a bump on the head. I’m not about to die—’

‘If you had seen yourself you wouldn’t say that.’

‘Lorenzo, I’m fine.’

‘Well, I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from seeing you crumple like that.’ He closed his eyes and bowed his head, both his hands firmly clasped around hers. ‘Can you be patient with me?’

‘Yes.’ She had him. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t need the grand gestures, the romantic flourishes. She just needed him.

He leaned across, kissed her tenderly on the lips. Not enough for her.

‘You’re staying in here tonight.’

‘No.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not.’

‘You are. Observation. You probably have concussion. You need to be monitored.’

‘I can be monitored at home. Rosanna will—’

‘Rosanna is away,’ Lorenzo said sharply. ‘I’ll wait with you today. Come back to pick you up in the morning. Unless—’ he breathed out ‘—you’d rather your parents did?’

‘I want you to.’

His hand cupped her face so gently. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘You do,’ she said, angry tears springing again. ‘You do.’

She would make him under stand that—somehow. She loved him. But she couldn’t say it again—wouldn’t—because she didn’t want him to feel the pressure to say it in return. She didn’t know that he’d ever be able to say it. It didn’t matter. Her tortured warrior spoke with actions. And he was here. That was enough.

Twenty-four hours later Lorenzo finally went to do some work for a bit—having instructed her to phone down if she needed anything. He paused halfway down the stairs. Rosanna was on her way up, a sheaf of flowers across one arm.

She waggled her finger at him. ‘You don’t take my best friend home to your place and think you’re not getting me too.’

He laughed. ‘She’ll be pleased to see you. She’s bored and getting restless.’

‘I’ve got some magazines.’

His grin faded as she got closer. ‘You’re wearing her necklace.’ His throat went tight as he saw it.

She touched it. ‘Stunning, isn’t it? I bought it at the exhibition the other night. Made sure I did it as soon as I got there. I wanted her to have one “sold” sign really early on.’ She grinned. ‘Not that I needed to worry—she sold most of them in the first hour. But she was so nervous.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’ He should have thought to do that. That should have been him. But he’d been thinking too selfishly. ‘You’re a good friend to her.’

‘Only because she’s wonderful to me. It’s nice to be able to do something for her for once,’ Rosanna said. ‘She does so much for everyone else.’

‘Yeah.’ She did. She bent over back wards for the ones she loved. She was bending every which way for him. And he wasn’t happy about it. She deserved so much more. The feeling inside his chest tightened.

She was going to take him—like this—with nothing extra. She was too generous. And he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Not any more. No matter the cost to him, she was too important. Her happiness was too important.

He could do it, sure he could—because she deserved it. ‘I’ve got a few other things I need to do for her.’ He swallowed and bit the bullet. ‘Are you up to helping me?’

Rosanna looked sharply curious. ‘What kind of things?’

‘Top secret things.’

‘Spend money kind of top-secret things?’

‘Lots of money,’ he acknowledged.

‘Then you’ve got an able assistant.’

He’d grin if he weren’t feeling so freaked. ‘Fantastic.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SOPHY let Lorenzo guide her to her seat. Honestly, she was over the cotton wool treatment. Four days since her accident and he was still handling her as if he was afraid she’d break any moment.

‘You’re into taking this risk a second time?’

‘The first wasn’t such a risk,’ she teased back. ‘It’s not like you’ve asked me for my passport.’

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out two small blue books.

‘No way.’ Sophy stared at them. ‘You got my passport? How did you do that?’

He didn’t answer. Just grinned at her in a lazy way.

‘That was at my parents’ house.’ She frowned. ‘At least, I think it was. You didn’t break in there, did you?’

‘I never did breaking and entering. Not my strength.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re capable of anything you set your mind to,’ she muttered. ‘It’s scary.’

‘Are you scared?’

She met his serious gaze. ‘No.’ She did up her seat belt. ‘Actually I’m hoping you’re going to make me a member of the mile high club.’

He laughed but she wasn’t kidding. He’d kissed her since the accident, but they hadn’t had sex. And she needed it—badly wanted to connect with him. There was a distance between them. She sensed his tension, as if he was keeping something back from her.

‘Are we going back to Hanmer?’

He just smiled.

She was sure of it when they got into the rental car in Christchurch and he took the road north again. Fine by her—she couldn’t think of anything nicer than making love with him in that wonderful warm water again.

But he turned off on a side road well before he should. Then took another, a gravel road this time. The building appeared out of nowhere. One of those churches that had been built a century ago and now was stuck in the middle of a field with nothing else around—no other buildings, no cars, nothing.

‘Sophy.’

He switched off the engine. He was so pale she was seriously worried.

‘Lorenzo?’

He turned to face her. ‘Will you marry me?’ It was only once he’d asked it that he looked directly into her eyes.

She blinked, stunned at the question that had come so suddenly out of the blue. ‘Yes. Of course I will.

’ Her heart thudded hard enough to burst from her chest.

But he didn’t smile. Didn’t look even a smidge more relaxed. He just jerked his head in a sharp negating gesture. ‘But will you marry me right now?’

She stared from him, to the church in front of them. ‘Now?’

‘Right now.’ He sat still as marble.

‘Of course I will.’ She answered in a heart beat.

‘You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?’ He was the colour of marble too.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But are you?’

He smiled then. It was as if the full power of the sun had burst through the storm clouds—scattering them to the furthest edge of the universe. He got out of the car, strode round to her door and opened it.

She stepped out carefully, looking cautiously at him as he took her hand and led her to the closed doors of the old church.

‘We can’t really get married now can we?’ She climbed the stairs doubtfully. She didn’t think there was a minister in there—there wasn’t a car in the yard, there didn’t seem to be another soul around for miles.

Unless he meant to do some little personal made-up thing for just the two of them? Well, that would be fine by her. She wanted to be with him. She was happy.

He pulled the heavy door open and was a half-step behind her as she went in. She blinked in the dim light, suddenly saw the movement. The turning of heads. The smiles.

The church was full of people. Full.

She looked at Lorenzo—saw the colour had leeched from his skin again. A tall streak came flying up the aisle to her.

‘Rosanna, what are you doing here?’ Sophy asked, utterly shocked.

‘I’m your bridesmaid, silly.’

‘You’re serious.’ Sophy stared. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I’m dead serious,’ said Rosanna.

‘So did you mean it?’ Lorenzo asked quietly. ‘You’ll marry me right now?’

‘No, I need at least ten minutes with her first.’ Rosanna again.

Sophy ignored Rosanna. Took a step closer to him, reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

‘Five minutes, okay?’ He whispered, cupping her jaw. ‘Don’t be late.’