Free The Promise by Danielle Steel Page B

his head at her, and she sank down slowly on the couch.
    “All right, all rigft,” she said with a slow smile.
    “How was the meeting?” Michael sat down across from her and tried to look as though he cared. He was going to have to do a lot of that, because that afternoon he had made a decision. From now on he was going to live for one thing and one thing only. His work. There was nothing else left.

Chapter 8
    “Ready?”
    “I guess so.” She couldn't feel anything above her shoulders; it was as though her head had been cut off. And the bright lights of the operating room made Nancy want to squint, but she couldn't even do that. All she could see clearly was Peter's face as he bent over her, his neatly trimmed beard covered by a blue surgical mask, and his eyes dancing. He had spent almost three weeks studying the X-rays, measuring, sketching, drawing, planning, preparing, and talking to her. The only photograph of Nancy he had was the one taken the day of the accident, at the fair. But her face had been partially obscured by the silly board-walk facade she and Michael had stuck their heads through to have their picture taken. It gave him an idea though, a starting point, but he was going much farther than that. She was going to be a different girl when he was through, a person anyone would dream of being. He smiled down at her again as he saw her eyelids grow heavy.
    “You're going to have to stay awake now, and keep talking to me. You can get drowsy but you can't go to sleep.” Otherwise she might choke on her own blood, but she didn't need to know that. Instead he kept her amused with stories and jokes, asked her questions, made her think of things, dig up answers, remember the names of all the nuns she knew when she was a child. “And you're sure you don't still want to be Sister Agnes Marie?”
    “Uh uh. I promised.” They teased back and forth during the whole three hours that the procedure took, and his hands never stopped moving. For Nancy it was like watching a ballet.
    “And just think, in another couple of weeks we'll get you your own apartment, maybe something with a view, and then … Hey, sleepyhead, what do you think of the view? Do you want to see the bay from the bedroom?”
    “Sure. Why not?”
    “Just 'sure’? You know, I think you're getting spoiled by the view from your room here at the hospital, Nancy.”
    “That's not true. I love it.”
    “Okay, then we'll go out together and find you something even better. Deal?”
    “Deal.” Even with the sleepy voice, she sounded pleased. “Can't I go to sleep yet?”
    “You know what, Princess, you just about can. Just a few more minutes and we'll whisk you back to your room and you can sleep all you want.”
    “Good.”
    “Have I been boring you then!” She giggled at his mock hurt. “There, love … all … set.” He looked up at his assistant with a nod, stood back for a moment, and a nurse gave Nancy a quick shot in the thigh. Then Peter stepped back to her side and smiled down at the eyes he already knew so well. He didn't even see the rest. Not yet. But he saw the eyes. And knew them intimately. Just as she knew his. “Did you know that today is a special day?”
    “Yes.”
    “You did? How did you know?”
    Because it was Michael's birthday, but she didn't want to tell him that He was going to be twenty-five years old today. She wondered what he was doing.
    “I just knew, that's all.”
    “Well, it's special to me because this is the beginning. Our first surgery together, our first step on a wonderful road toward a new you. How about that?” He smiled at her then, and she quietly closed her eyes and fell asleep. The shot had taken effect.
    “Happy birthday, boss.”
    “Don't call me that, you jerk. Christ, you look lousy, Ben.”
    “Thanks a lot.” Ben looked over at his friend as he hobbled into the office with crutches and the assistance of a secretary. She eased him into a chair and withdrew from Michael's overstuffed