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"But that's just stupid," her dad said.
"There's a reason he's held on to this for so long, Dad. He's been so scared of what you would think."
"When have I ever said a thing against gays? Tell me?"
"It's not you. It's everyone else. The kids at school when he was growing up. People on the streets sometimes. I've been with Danny and his friends when people have hung out car windows and screamed abuse at them. h.e.l.l, I've even been called a f.a.g hag."
"That's disgusting. You're far too attractive to be a f.a.g hag."
Anna choked back a laugh as her father surged to his feet.
"Danny!" he called out imperatively as he left the room.
She stayed where she was. This next bit they could do without her. Her eye fell on the ornate photo frame beside the bed. It was a photograph of her parents on their wedding day. She picked it up, smiling down at their youthful faces. They'd both been so young, just twenty and twenty-two. But, as her father had explained more than once over the years, they'd been in love, and nothing was going to stop them.
She could see it in their faces, too, as they stared adoringly at each other. Her fingers clenched around the frame. Her father had never stopped loving her mother. She knew how it felt now, to love someone that much.
Standing, she put the frame back on the bedside table. It had to get easier. It just had to.
MARC TAPPED HIS FINGERS on his steering wheel, eyes glued to the entrance to the apartment block across the road. A grim smile twisted his lips. In the s.p.a.ce of a few days, he'd been reduced to this-sitting out the front of Anna's brother's apartment, waiting like some desperate teen suitor. If he wasn't so determined to win Anna around, it'd be funny.
He sat up straighter as a black Mercedes pulled up at the front of the building. His pulsed quickened-it was Anna! He'd hoped to talk to her brother, but she was actually here, right now. Movements jerky, he shoved the car door open and shot out of the car. But he'd barely taken a step across the road before she was pulling away, leaving her brother to step into the building.
Marc hesitated, staring after the receding lights of her car. G.o.d, it was good just to see her, even just a glimpse. He shook his head at his own thoughts. Man, did he have it bad or what? Maybe the desperate-teen a.n.a.logy hadn't been too far off after all.
Squaring his shoulders, he headed across the road. He knew what apartment number her brother lived in now, where he worked, what car he drove. It had only taken twenty-four hours to find out the essentials. He took the steps to the second floor and counted off the doors until he found apartment two-twenty. Determined, he knocked briskly.
Danny opened the door, and he could see another man standing in the background, a bottle of wine and a corkscrew in hand. He knew from what Anna had said that her brother was gay, so he didn't bat an eyelid.
"Danny, you don't know me, but I need your help-"
"I know you," Danny said, cutting him off midflow. "You're Marc Lewis."
"Anna's spoken about me?" he asked, hope surging.
"Not lately, no," Danny said, a distinctly cool note entering his voice. "You must have stuffed up pretty badly."
Marc realized this was his chance, here and now.
"I love her. And I think she loves me. But she broke it off, and she won't return my calls," he said, aware there was raw need in his voice, but not having the time or energy to be embarra.s.sed about it. There were bigger, more important fish to fry.
"Ah," Danny said as though he'd just found the vital piece of a puzzle. "I see." He turned to the blond guy with the wine bottle, obviously gauging his opinion. When he turned back, he stepped away from the door.
"Perhaps you'd better come in," he said. "I'm not promising anything, mind, but Anna's been pretty miserable lately."
Marc ducked his head in acknowledgment. Pa.s.sing inside, he prepared to put his case forward-someone had to help him get through to Anna.
ANNA TUGGED the two pieces of leather hard, and finally squeezed the stud through the hole. Sighing, she let her tummy out. There was a distinct possibility that she'd bought her leather bike pants a size too small. She sank onto her haunches, then stood back up again. The brand-new leather was supple but squeaky, and she decided that it would give enough so that she wouldn't have to do battle with the zipper every time.
Reaching for her leather gauntlets and her bike helmet, she started toward the door. She'd had her learner bike permit for two days, and this would be only her third ride on her spanking new Ducati S2R 1000. She'd yet to find out what it could really do, to really open it out and hammer it, but already she was reveling in the sense of freedom the bike gave her. The powerful throb of the motor between her legs, the adrenaline rush of being so exposed, so vulnerable-she really knew she was alive when she was riding.
A nice change from the rest of her life, that was for sure. When she was riding was the only time she didn't think about Marc. It was possible that would wear off as she became more accustomed to the demands of the bike. And then she'd simply have to find something else to push the limits. Whatever it took. That was the name of the game she was playing.
Opening the front door, she pulled up short as she saw Danny there, hand raised ready to knock.
"Hi," she said, suppressing a guilty little s.h.i.+ver when she saw his expression darken.
"What are you doing? Are those bike leathers?" Danny demanded instantly.
She sighed. "Yes. Before you ask, I bought the Ducati. Quick, get the hissy fit over and done with."
"This is because of Marc Lewis, isn't it? You fell in love with him and now you're freaking out, aren't you? Talk to me, Anna," Danny demanded.
"This is about my life, nothing else. Getting the most out of every last minute."
"You won't have many more last minutes if you keep going on like this. I've seen Marc. He told me about the bungee jumping. And the parasailing and the scuba diving and G.o.d knows what else you've been up to. Are you trying to die, Anna? Is that it?"
"What do you mean, you've seen Marc?" she asked, paling.
"He came to see me. He was desperate. He told me what happened in Bali."
That explained why the phone calls had stopped. A part of her felt a little thrill that he was being so persistent. But it was pointless.
"I told him to come over. I think you should talk to him," Danny said.
"Just because you're Mr. Out and Proud doesn't suddenly make you an expert on relations.h.i.+ps, Danny! I don't want to see him."
"Fine, then I'll just send him on up and you can tell him that yourself," Danny said.
Anna choked. "He's here? Now?" Her pulse jumped crazily. G.o.d, she wanted to see him so much. Even just hear the sound of his voice.
"Waiting in his car downstairs. You need to talk to him, Anna," Danny said.
Furious tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at him. "You are my brother, and I am telling you that I don't want this," she said.
"It's for your own good. You've been stewing on your own for too long," Danny said, and she watched with growing panic as he turned and headed down the stairs to get Marc.
For a moment she just stood there, filled with fear, then she spun around and strode toward the back door.
MARC GOT OUT of his car as Danny exited Anna's apartment block.
"Man, she is so d.a.m.n stubborn!" Danny said, shaking his head. "Good luck-she's in one h.e.l.l of a mood."
"I never thought it was going to be easy. Nothing with Anna ever has been," Marc said wryly, an absurd hope in his heart. At least now he had a chance. He would sit her down and talk to her until the cows came home if he had to, but she was going to admit she loved him or give him a d.a.m.ned good reason why they couldn't be together.
He had a gut feel about what that reason might be now that Danny had told him about Anna's cancer scare. Danny had been guilt-stricken over betraying his sister's confidence when he realized Marc didn't know about her lumpectomy. He'd just a.s.sumed Anna would have told him such an important thing. But she hadn't. In fact, she'd deliberately lied about how she got her scar. Which was why Marc knew it was important, pivotal even.
Clapping Danny gratefully on the back, Marc turned toward the building. He was going in.
He'd barely taken a step forward when the sound of a motorcycle being revved to life echoed down the apartment block's driveway.
"s.h.i.+t!" Danny said, breaking into a run.
"What's going on?" Marc demanded, instinctively following the other man.
"Anna's bought herself this monster of a motorbike. A b.l.o.o.d.y Ducati!" Danny explained, just as a motorbike shot past them and out into the street.
Marc caught Anna's eye briefly as she braked and did a right-hand turn, her technique still a little dicey. He took in the prominent L plate on the rear of the bike and felt a clutch of fear in his belly.
"Anna!" he called, but she shook her head and gunned the throttle. The bike took off just as he lunged forward, and he ran out into the middle of the road, watching her accelerate to the corner of the street where it intersected with the main road.
"G.o.dd.a.m.n it!" he cursed, every muscle tense with impotent anger.
Danny came to stand beside him. "She's the most stubborn woman on the planet," he said, almost admiringly.
His eyes still on Anna where she waited at the end of the street, indicator on to signal a left-hand turn, Marc opened his mouth to respond-just as Anna accelerated out into the main intersection. Almost immediately the heart-stopping sound of screeching tires cut through the air, closely followed by the distinct sound of a car hitting something solid.
"Jesus. No!" Marc swore, muscles bunching as he bolted forward. Danny wasn't far behind him as he pounded his way to the end of the street. Marc's lungs felt as though they were going to burst, he was so filled with panic.
Anna had to be okay, she had to.
He rocketed out into the main intersection where a number of cars had pulled up, hazard lights blinking. A middle-aged woman was standing outside her car, hands pressed to her face.
"I didn't see her! I was just turning into my driveway and I didn't see her!" The woman was crying.
Anna was lying on her side against the curb, the bike pinning her body to the ground. Two young guys were working to haul the bike off her as an older woman talked briskly into her mobile phone, calling an ambulance. Anna's body was motionless, Marc saw, and a surge of nausea burned his throat.
"Get out of the way," he hollered brusquely, shoving the shocked young men out of the way and bracing himself to lift the bike. With a surge of adrenaline-fueled power, he wrestled it off her, dropping it to one side and instantly crouching by Anna's still form.
"Anna! Anna, please," he said as he bent over her. She was lying on her left side, her helmeted head in profile to him. Fingers shaking, he slid his hand beneath her chin strap carefully, worried about a spinal injury. To his everlasting relief, he felt a strong and steady pulse beneath his fingers.
"Please tell me she's alive," Danny said, and he realized the other man was crouching beside him, his face creased with fear.
"She's alive."
The sound of an ambulance siren had never been so welcoming. Crouching lower still, Marc lifted the visor on Anna's helmet, needing to see her face. Her eyes were closed, and he could see a dark bruise already forming over her left eye.
"She must have smacked her head against the curb," he guessed.
Then firm hands were on his arm, and two paramedics were taking his place by Anna's side.
He and Danny stood to one side as they slid a spinal collar on and moved Anna onto a spinal board. Throughout, she remained unconscious and Marc almost cracked his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.
At last they were lifting her into the ambulance, Danny climbing in to accompany her to the hospital.
"I'll see you there," Marc promised, already turning to head back to his car.
Anna was alive. And she had to stay that way because he knew without a doubt that he couldn't live without her.
ANNA WOKE with the disorienting sensation of moving while p.r.o.ne. As full consciousness returned, she remembered what had happened. She'd been focused on Marc, thinking about how much she wanted him, then the car had appeared out of nowhere. She'd had a split second before it hit her, and his face had filled her mind.
She tried to move her head, registering the dull ache of a bruise on her face, and the fact that her neck was wrapped in a soft spinal collar.
"She's awake," someone said, and Danny's face appeared above her.
His eyes were damp as he reached for her hand. "Hi," was all he said, and she felt a rush of guilt as she saw how much she'd scared him.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said.
Danny shook his head. "Shut up. You're alive. Who cares about anything else?"
But Anna suddenly realized how close she'd come to dying and started trembling with the shock of it.
"It was so stupid. So stupid. What was I thinking?" she muttered over and over.
"Good question," Danny said. "But it can wait."
The ambulance slowed, then there was a jerk as it halted completely.
"Possible concussion, good pupil reaction, no sign of internal bleeding or broken bones," one of the ambulance attendants was reciting to the nurse who helped them pull her gurney from the ambulance.
She'd been so lucky. Not even a broken bone! She stiffened suddenly, remembering the most important thing of all.
"Marc!" she said, trying to sit up. "Where's Marc?"
Marc had been there. Marc had seen everything. He must have been horrified. She could only imagine how she would feel in a similar situation.
The nurse looked to Danny, who shook his head. "Marc's on his way, Anna," Danny said.
It wasn't what she wanted to hear. Because suddenly she knew she'd made a terrible, terrible mistake. The worst mistake of her life. And she needed to tell him. She needed to ask him for a second chance.
"Miss, you need to stay calm," the nurse was saying, her eyes on the blood pressure cuff on Anna's arm. "I'm sure your friend will be here very soon."
Anna subsided back onto the gurney and they wheeled her through a short corridor and into a cubicle. She could barely hold back the tears as she waited for them to have done with her, checking her pupil responses, cutting her expensive new leathers off to check for broken bones. All she cared about was Marc.
She barely listened to the doctor as he explained to Danny that they were happy with her overall condition, given the circ.u.mstances, but they would like to keep her in overnight to monitor her concussion. She kept her eyes glued to the small crack of the outside world visible between the curtains, hoping to see Marc's tall form there.
Finally, she saw a dark blur of movement, and he was striding into the cubicle as though he owned it, dark eyes crisp and a.s.sessing as he took in the doctor to one side, the pressure cuff still attached to her arm, Danny holding her hand.
"Marc," was all she could manage, and she sat up with a jerk and threw herself into his arms.
Despite the throbbing pain of her bruised face, it was like coming home, pure bliss. The smell of him, the feel of him, the essence of him. How she loved him.
She realized she was telling him just that, over and over. "I love you, I love you, I love you." Peppering kisses across his face, hands grabbing at him. After a few seconds he caught her face gently and held her still.
"Easy, Anna. It's okay," he soothed. Vaguely she was aware that Danny and the doctor were making themselves scarce, but she really didn't care who was there.
"I'm so sorry. I thought I was making it better, but I was making it worse. I didn't know," she babbled.