Free Deeply, Desperately by Heather Webber

"What's wrong with her?"
    "Don't know for sure. Some dizziness, some numbness in her hand, some tingling in her leg. She fainted the other day."
    I supposed I should thank my lucky stars that she wasn't pregnant. After all, she and Sean only broke it off six weeks ago. Though, according to him, they hadn't had a physical relationship for months before that.
    I wanted to believe him, so I did. I was a Valentine. I was allowed.
    "This doesn't change us," he said.
    Something rattled and clanged. A burst of heat shot through the radiator. I guessed the furnace was fixed. "Okay."
    "It doesn't."
    I flashed to that image I'd just had of us. Our naked bodies, his lips on my thigh ... It was destined to come true (
when
was another issue), so maybe he was right.
    "It's just," he began.
    "What?" I prompted.
    "She sat by me when I went through all my testing. Never left my bedside."
    She'd also resented him for it. According to Sean, she hadn't been able to deal with the scope of his illness, with his life changing so drastically. As soon as Sean was out of danger, she opted out of the relationship.
    He'd almost died, and still lived with the possibility on a day-to-day basis. If not for the defibrillator implanted in his chest, he could go at any minute. She didn't want to deal with it.
    At the thought of losing him, chills swept down my spine and the ache in my stomach intensified. This was where Cara and I differed the most. She ran while I wanted to hold on for dear life.
    "It's the least I can do for her," he said. "Then I can cut all ties. No looking back."
    I wanted to hate his loyalty, his empathy, but I couldn't. In truth, it made him all that more attractive. "Sean?"
    "Yeah?"
    "What if they find something seriously wrong? Are you going to be able to walk away?"
    Essentially, do to her what she'd done to him? Her rejection had hurt him, and I couldn't see him walkingaway--if only to prove that he was, in fact, the better person.
    I glanced into his eyes. The tenderness had turned to anguish.
    My stomach churned.
    "Yes," he said.
    I wanted to believe him, but I didn't. I was a Valentine. It was my birthright.
    "She has a spinal tap scheduled at noon. I told her I'd be there."
    "But Falmouth is at least a ninety-min--oh." I stood. "That's okay. I can go it alone."
    "Lucy, this won't be for long."
    "No, no. It's all right. Really." I was lying through my teeth. But at this point I just wanted to leave.
    "You're lying through your teeth, Ms. Valentine."
    Oh, just twist that knife a little bit more. My name on his lips was too sexy to endure.
    "But I promise I'll make it up to you," he said, pulling me into an embrace.
    "Oh?" I asked, slightly (okay, highly) intrigued.
    He let me go and picked up a duffel bag on the floor. "All the toys you asked for. And there may be one or two I left at home. To show you in private. Sometime. Perhaps soon?"
    A blush climbed my neck, settled into my cheeks. I was definitely intrigued, though I couldn't keep that little knot of doom and gloom from sitting heavily in my stomach.
    I took the duffel from him and headed for the door. "Perhaps."
    "Dinner tonight?" he asked.
    "My place, eight?"
    "I'll be there."
    "I'll hold you to that."
    He grinned. "I hope that's not the only thing you'll be holding."
    "Mr. Donahue! I'm shocked." And giddy, but I didn't mention that. I had my pride, after all.
    His laugh followed me down the hall. In the reception area, I found Andrew doubled over, writhing in pain.
    I rushed over to him. "Andrew! What's wrong?"
    "Don't. Know. My stomach. Hurting." He gasped for breath as sweat beaded along his hairline. "Sam's taking me. To the hospital."
    Sam rushed through the door, saying, "I'm double-parked, can you make it downstairs?"
    Andrew nodded and hunchbacked his way to the door. Sam helped him down the steps, a sturdy arm around his shoulders.
    I was about to say something about the office pool, but Sam looked back at me with a grim expression. "Not one word, Lucy