Chapter Nineteen
Nate
Nate carried Lily up to his penthouse, the entire time she kept her head pressed into his neck with such force he felt his pulse beat against her.
And she hadn’t stopped making that horrifying noise.
The elevator opened at the top floor, his floor as he owned the whole of it.
As if waiting for the sound of the elevator, the lone door in the small but opulent hall opened and Laura stood there. The minute she saw them, or more to the point heard Lily, the blood drained out of his mother’s face.
“Oh my God,” Laura breathed.
Without hesitation, Nate walked passed her, through the living room, down the hall and directly to his bedroom. Beside the bed, he put Lily on her feet but kept her weight braced against him.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked but Nate didn’t answer, he was looking at Lily and she was wincing.
“No light,” Lily whispered.
Immediately Nate ordered his mother, “Shut the drapes.”
“Pardon?” Laura asked.
“The drapes!” he clipped, his voice impatient and curt.
Laura ran to the windows as Nate’s hand went to the zipper at the back of Lily’s dress and tugged it down gently.
“What can we do?” he asked Lily softly.
“No light,” she repeated as he finished with her zipper and carefully guided the skirt of her dress over her hips. She knew what he was doing and she lifted her arms in submission but he could tell the movement took great effort. “No noise. Noise, very bad. Cool, wet flannel,” she finished.
The room went dark as Laura closed the drapes on the floor to ceiling windows that lined one side of the room. She then rushed to them while Nate pulled the dress free of Lily’s arms, all the while bearing her weight against the length of his body.
“I’ll get something for her to wear,” Laura offered, taking the dress from his hand and throwing it across the bottom of the bed.
“No clothes. Can’t bear it,” Lily muttered and Nate’s hand moved to the clasp of her bra and deftly undid it while Laura gave up on her offered errand and leaned forward and pulled back the covers to the bed.
Nate slipped the bra off her shoulders. “Get a cool flannel,” he ordered his mother and Laura ran to the bathroom.
He set Lily in bed and went to work on her shoes, which, he decided with annoyance, regardless of how sexy they were, could be used by banks to keep money safe, their straps were so complicated. Once he had both off and dropped them to the floor, he pulled the covers over her.
“Do you have any medication?” he asked.
She shook her head and flinched then pressed it to the pillows as she’d pressed it to his neck while he carried her up to the penthouse.
“Nothing works,” she answered.
“The doctor’s coming,” Nate told her as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her hair gently away from her neck.
“Won’t help,” she mumbled.
He felt a frustrated fury surge through him. He realised vaguely that it had been under the surface since seeing her leaning helplessly against his receptionist’s desk but it had, finally, managed to get loose.
He controlled it, but barely.
“Lily, tell me what I can do,” he urged.
“You’re doing it,” she whispered, pressing her head deeper into the pillows.
Laura came back to the room and handed Nate the flannel. He folded it and pressed it against Lily’s forehead and she made a noise, this time not of pain.
“Yes,” she breathed in such a rush of relief, it was as if he’d given her the elixir of life. She lifted her hand and pressed the flannel into her forehead with such force he could see the colour of the flesh of her long, graceful fingers changing from pink to a harsh blush mingled with white.
The doorbell rang and Laura murmured, “I’ll get it.”
Lily whispered after Laura had scurried from the room, “Call Fazire, please.”
“Of course,” Nate assured her quietly.
“Tell him not to come.”
Nate didn’t respond.
“He’ll want to come but tell him you’ll take care of me.” Her eyes fluttered open and slid to him but her head didn’t move. “Tell him I said that.”
Nate should have reacted to the importance her words, wanted to, but at that moment he couldn’t. He heard his personal physician, Dr. Sims coming into the room with Laura.
Lily closed her eyes and Nate rose from the bed to allow the doctor access.
“What’s happened?” Dr. Sims asked.
“She says it’s a migraine,” Nate replied, his words clipped.
“Does she have them often?” the physician went on.
Nate couldn’t respond because he didn’t know. And this caused the control he had on his fury to slip a notch. If they’d had the last eight years together, he would have known.
“Yes.” It was Lily who answered.
“How often?” Dr. Sims asked her gently, taking her pulse.
“Not often.”
“Do you know your triggers?” he enquired, his voice soft and low.
“Stress,” she answered and Nate’s fury mingled immediately with a surge of guilt which caused it to slip another notch, “sometimes my period.”
“Are you on your cycle now?” Dr. Sims asked.
“It’s coming. The pain only comes just before,” she replied.
“Let’s get you sorted.” The doctor glanced at Nate then to Laura. His meaning clear, they were to leave.
“I’m not going,” Nate stated firmly.
Dr. Sims moved away and motioned Nate to follow, this he did but halted before they even came close to the door.
“Migraine sufferers need quiet, darkness, rest. I’ll give her something to help her sleep. We’ll talk outside but now she needs to be left alone and we need to get her to sleep. It’s the best thing, sometimes the only thing for it.”
Nate stared at Lily still pressing the flannel to her head and then glanced at the doctor.
Wishing only to speed the process of her recovery, he nodded and walked out of the room. Laura had already gone.
In the living room Laura was gathering her things, she heard rather than saw Nate come into the vast room.
“I’ll go to the shops, get her a nightgown, a change of clothes…” Laura needed something to do and she had nothing therefore she was creating busy work.
Nate stopped her hasty exit. “I need you to call Fazire. Tell him she’s here and she’s not well. Tell him that I’m taking care of her. Please tell him Lily said that.”
At the words “I need you”, Laura’s head jerked around. At the word “please” her face melted and her eyes began to shimmer with tears.
Nate had never said the former to her in his life. And the latter he rarely said to anyone.
She immediately dropped her bag and rushed toward the kitchen saying, “I’ll do that now.” Then she stopped and swung around. “What’s the number?”
He smiled at his mother, feelings of immense gratitude at her being there when he needed her, when Lily needed her, warring with his anger. Nate told her the number he’d only used once but, as per usual, he’d memorised.
She muttered it over and over to herself as she ran to the kitchen.
Nate stopped himself from getting a drink which he very much needed. He couldn’t get Lily’s appalling whimpering out of his head and he couldn’t lose his fury at his feeling of powerlessness. That was not a feeling he was used to and he very much did not like it.
But he couldn’t have a drink. It was before noon and furthermore, Lily might need him.
Laura came back in the room. “Fazire says he wants Lily to call him when she’s better. He wants her to know he’ll take care of Natasha. And he wanted to know why she was here,” she reported.
Nate pulled his hand through his hair and then stopped it at his neck to squeeze away some of the tension that had settled there. “I’ve
no idea why she’s here. She showed up at my office and by the time I arrived at reception, she was barely able to stand.”
When his secretary had told him a Lily Jacobs was waiting in reception, he’d immediately thought it was a good sign. She had been consistently adamant they talk through their solicitors. Her solicitor was a pit bull, constant demands, constant threats and Nate was told in no uncertain terms (through his own solicitors, of course) to stay away from Lily.
This Nate ignored.
Lily’s arrival in London was an unexpected surprise.
He knew he’d broken through on the first day with her. She responded to him and what’s more, Tash had, spectacularly.
He also knew by the way Tash talked, a great deal, about what her mother had said about him, that Lily had been pining for a “dead” Nate for years.
And finally, Nate definitely knew that she’d gotten lost in him the last time they were together. One didn’t get as angry as she was without feeling something.
Nate knew a fair few things about anger. There was the mean kind and there was the emotional kind. Lily didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Lily’s anger was emotional, something deep inside her driving it. And whatever that something was drove her to react to his kiss, his touch, in her familiar, uninhibited way.
That something, whatever it was, at this point was everything to Nate.
Nate could work with something.
Furthermore, with one look at their daughter’s hopeful, happy face, she had given into a family dinner. He’d known eight years ago she’d never break up a family and he was betting on the fact that hadn’t changed.
When his secretary had told Nate she was there, he’d wasted no time in going to her. But, regardless of this, the reason for her visit was a still mystery.
It could be a yes or it could be a no. He was counting on a yes.
He dropped his arm and shook off his thoughts. He’d know soon enough and Nate was a patient man.
He watched as Laura glanced at the hall that led to his bedroom then back at Nate.
“Do you think Natasha sees her like that?” she asked quietly.
Nate thought of his daughter and the coat of Teflon that Lily had obviously painstakingly crafted around Natasha to ward off anything that would affect their daughter’s high spirits and good humour. They had little but Natasha needed for nothing and had no idea what she was missing or, indeed, from her personality, any of her mother’s struggles or sacrifices.
He doubted seriously Lily would expose her to what he’d just witnessed.
He shook his head in answer to his mother’s question.
It was then, the doctor entered the room and walked toward them.
“How is she?” Laura asked, her voice coated with concern.
“I gave her a mild sedative. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do but wait it out. She says they go away after she’s had a sleep. It’s just finding sleep through the pain.”
“I’ll check on her.” Laura moved toward the hall but stopped at the doctor’s next words and turned back.
“No, don’t. She needs peace and most of all, she needs quiet. She has to fight this on her own. She told me they only last a few hours, she just needs sleep.”
“What causes it?” Laura asked,.
“A variety of things.” He was efficiently packing his bag. He’d been called away from a hefty patient schedule. However, when Nate McAllister called, anyone who got the call instantly did his bidding even general practitioners.
Laura’s tone was coated with concern when she queried, “Is it… could it be something serious? Something –”
“Mrs. Roberts, it’s likely nothing,” Dr. Sims assured. “She says she’s been suffering them since she was a child. If you’re worried, get her to see a neurologist, get an MRI.”
Nate spoke for the first time since the doctor came into the room. “Set it up.”
Dr. Sims shifted his surprised eyes to Nate. “I’m sorry?”
“Refer her to a neurologist,” he ordered.
“She might have already seen one. Sometimes the pain is stubborn and they might not be able to tell you much. She obviously knows her triggers, how to cope.”
“Do it,” Nate clipped out.
At his tone, and the hard, set look on Nate’s face, Dr. Sims nodded.
“Tomorrow,” Nate demanded.
“Of course,” the physician finished settling his bag, “she should be fine in a few hours. If anything happens, call me.”
Then he was gone.
Laura was back at her handbag, gathering her things.
“I’ll do a little shopping. She should stay with you tonight,” Laura said decisively. “I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”
His mother walked to Nate and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then she too was gone.
At these sudden departures, Nate found he had time to think.
However, Nate didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to think of Lily alone and battling pain in his bed. He didn’t want to think of Lily suffering that way again, much less that she’d done it since she was a child. He didn’t want to think how little he knew her even though he remembered even the most infinitesimal detail of every moment he’d shared with her.
Therefore, he didn’t think.
He phoned his office and had them courier work to him but told them under no circumstances to ring the doorbell. He took off his suit jacket and his tie, loosening the buttons of his shirt at his throat. He quietly checked on Lily twice, both times, thankfully, she was sleeping. His mother arrived several hours later with enough glossy shopping bags so that Lily could stay a month, much less a night.
And through this time, Nate kept his mind on his work and he waited. And he kept absolute silence. And he kept careful, deliberate control on his fury.
Hours later, he walked away from the dining room table where he’d set up his temporary office rather than working in his study which was on the other side of the apartment and too far away from Lily. He went into the bedroom to find a change of clothes, hoping Lily would now sleep through any noise.
When he arrived, the bed was empty. Lily was gone.
He stood stock-still in the door, a strange sense of unease filling him even though he knew she couldn’t have really gone.
Then he heard a noise and his head jerked around.
She was wearing his dressing gown and standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She was leaning against the doorjamb, the balls of one foot pressing against the top of the other.
He remembered her standing exactly like that eight years ago. Nate had remembered that vision of her, their first night together, time and again over the years.
That once painful memory sliced through him. If Lily was in London to tell him “no” then he’d have this memory to add to his tortuous inventory.
With determination, he set that thought aside.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked in a quiet voice.
She nodded, pushed away from the doorjamb and walked to the bed.
He walked toward her and while he did so, he spoke. “Is the pain gone?”
“Yes. I just feel weird afterwards. Exhausted but able to function. I don’t know, it feels like I’ve been in some kind of battle.”
She stopped by the bed, leaned over and grabbed her dress. He stopped by her, reached out and gently pulled her dress from her fingers.
“You have,” he stated matter-of-factly.
She was staring at her dress in his hand and, at his words, her eyes lifted to his.
“I haven’t. It’s no big thing, it’s just a headache.” She was trying to pass it off as if it was nothing.
Nate never forgot anything but even if he had that luxury, he’d never forget the sound of her keening.
“Trust me, you have. I saw you do it.”
Clearly not wishing to argue, she changed the subject and asked quietly, “Can I have my dress please?”
He tossed it on the bed deliberately ou
t of her immediate reach. She watched it land and made no comment. It was then Nate noted that she looked slightly dazed.
“Laura bought you a nightgown, or, if the bags in the other room are any indication, twenty of them,” he told her.
A ghost of her quirky smile played about her lips and Nate registered it in his mind as his body instantly reacted to the sweet, familiar sight of it.
“Laura does like to shop, doesn’t she?” Lily whispered as if to herself and her words sounded almost fond.
She didn’t expect an answer to her question and Nate, unable to control himself any longer, pulled her cautiously toward him and slid his arms around her.
Her head tilted back but, surprisingly, she didn’t resist his embrace. Instead, she lifted her hands to rest on his biceps.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her eyes peering closely at him through the darkness of the room.
“No, I’m not all right.” He surprised himself by answering honestly.
She sucked in her breath sharply then enquired, “What’s the matter? Is it Tash? Fazire?”
He interrupted her. “It’s you.”
“Me?” Her eyes widened.
At her response, he let out a low, humourless laugh which caused her to come closer to him, her face changed as worry filled it.
“Nate?”
“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly.
She wasn’t following, her worry turned to confusion. “Here?”
“In London, why did you come to see me?”
Again, her face changed, this time to a sort of sadness.
“Nate, I think you’re changing the subject.” Her voice was so soft, if she was any further away than in his arms, he wouldn’t have heard her.
He didn’t answer.
“You said you aren’t all right,” she reminded him. “Why aren’t you all right?”
He still didn’t answer. Something stopped him. He didn’t know what it was but whatever it was always stopped him. It stopped him from speaking, stopped him from letting anyone close, stopped him from trusting anyone with his thoughts, his feelings, anything about him.
Even Lily.
She waited. Her patience thinned and he watched it in silence.