Chosen (23 page)

She toweled off and bundled herself up into a rich, white terry-cloth robe. Next, the awaiting Palestinian woman silently led her into a dimly lit room where soft instrumental music played. The woman motioned toward a massage table, made up with starched white sheets pulled taut, as if she expected a drill sergeant to inspect it.

Gladly, Sana disrobed and lay down on the table. The woman discreetly covered Alexana, leaving her back exposed. Sana watched, mesmerized, as the masseuse washed her gnarled hands in a porcelain sink beside the table. Picking up a glass bottle, the woman poured a liberal amount of heavy, spearmint-scented oil into her hands, then began to work on Alexana’s back. Sana was asleep in under a minute.

An hour later, after the massage was complete, Alexana was awakened and escorted to another room. There, one woman combed out her long hair while another cut, filed, and painted a clear coat of polish onto her fingernails and toenails. After dabbing on mascara, blush, and a subtle lipstick, Alexana gazed at herself in the mirror. She looked and felt worlds better than she had several hours before.

A smile grew across her face.
Ridge.
Never had she met a man who understood her needs so completely.

“You look beautiful, my friend,” said a familiar voice behind her.

Alexana’s eyes widened as she recognized the new image in the mirror. “Lydia! What are you doing here?” she asked, standing to embrace her friend.

“Sam went home to shower and is meeting me here for dinner. We would join you and Ridge, but I have the distinct feeling that he wants you all to himself. He asked me to deliver these.” Lydia held out Alexana’s classic ivory silk jumpsuit and delicate sandals.

“Oh, thank you!” Alexana said, taking the clothing in her arms. “I couldn’t stand the idea of putting on my grubby clothes again. I was considering going to dinner in this robe,” she laughed.

“You are welcome. And now, I must go and meet your brother.” Lydia’s dark eyes danced. “I believe Ridge is pacing, he is so anxious to see you,” she said conspiratorially. “That man loves you, Alexana.
More than Khalil ever did. More than any man I have ever seen around you.”

“I know,” Alexana said, grinning. “Isn’t it
wonderful?
”

Lydia threw her arms around Sana and squeezed her gently. “Yes, it is wonderful,” she said, leaving her side. She paused at the door. “Maybe we can convince both men to rendezvous for dessert.”

“If I last that long,” Alexana agreed. “I feel invigorated by all of this, but I’m afraid it’s bound to wear off.”

“I’ll come to your table in an hour to see how you are faring. If you wish it, we shall join you.”

“If you can convince Sam to share you.”

“Yes,” Lydia said impishly. “That will be a must.”

Alexana left the spa feeling as if she were floating. The guard Ridge had dubbed “Huey” tailed her while another led the way, but she consciously pushed thoughts about them from her mind. She would not think about the guards or the ever-present danger. Tonight she had eyes only for Ridge.

Ridge rose from his wicker chair at the top of the marble stairs and came to meet her. Alexana raised her lips to meet his, then, smiling, wiped away the touch of lipstick that had smeared his mouth. “Thank you,” she said tenderly. “No one has done anything so thoughtful for me in my whole life.”

Ridge grinned and looked her over, chin in hand. “A bit better than when I brought you here.”

“I take it you like this outfit,” she said, indicating the clothing he had chosen for her.

“You’re breathtaking,” he said, somehow managing not to sound corny.

A warm sensation flooded through Alexana as Ridge gazed at her. She felt as though she belonged to him, as though she had always belonged to him. Keeping her tone light, she pretended to dismiss his compliment. “It’s the one claim to a fashion statement that I can make. Glad you think it’s okay.”

“I think you’ll be a suitable companion,” he teased, offering his arm. “In fact,” he said, leading her to the dining room, “I’ve never looked forward to a dinner date more.”

As their evening progressed, Alexana’s energy increased while Ridge became increasingly quiet. After the waiter had taken their dinner dishes away, Alexana took a moment to study her companion. Ridge had pushed his chair away from the table and was leaning back, his legs sprawled out casually before him. He stared at his palms.

She placed her elbows on the table and folded her hands. “Where are you? You’re obviously not here with me anymore,” she said gently, without accusation.

He glanced up guiltily. “Oh, I’m here all right. I’m sorry. It’s just that there’s something I need to discuss with you. It can’t wait any longer.”

Alexana grew nervous at the sound of his tone. Was he sick? Had something happened? She managed to nod. “Okay,” she said, urging him on.

Ridge sat up and leaned forward across the table. He swallowed hard. “I have to tell you something, and I’m afraid it will ruin everything, Alexana. I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll turn away.”

As she saw the sadness and vulnerability in his eyes, her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to hold him, caress his hair, tell him that
it would all be okay. “Oh, Ridge,” she began, reaching across to take his hand.

“No,” he said, pulling away. “I need to be as clear as possible with you, and holding your hand softens it somehow. I don’t deserve to have you make this easy for me.”

Alexana frowned and leaned back, stung by his rebuff but madly striving to understand. She prepared herself for the worst.
He’s walking away. He doesn’t love me after all.
“This seems to be the place that we make frank confessions,” she said with a tight smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“It is,” he said soberly. He squared his shoulders and sighed. “Alexana, I—”

“Hey!” Sam’s booming voice broke in as he and Lydia neared the table. “Let’s skip dessert and hit the dance floor! They have a great …” His voice trailed off as he looked from his sister’s face to Ridge’s. “I’m sorry. I obviously interrupted something.”

Ridge looked down at his hands without speaking.

Alexana reached out to lay her hand on Lydia’s arm. “Can we come join you in a few minutes?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, yes,” Lydia said. “Whenever you can.”

“We’ll be there,” Sam said and quickly led Lydia away.

After a moment of awkward silence, Ridge smiled grimly and shook his head. “I’ll try again.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Alexana, I think you know that I love you. More than any other woman I’ve ever known. I love everything about you. I want to be with you for a long time. I can’t imagine life without you anymore.”

Alexana’s heart pounded under the intensity of his gaze. She nodded, wondering where he was going with this train of thought.

“I have a confession to make, and I’m not proud of myself,” he said. He paused, then said carefully: “There have been other women.”

Alexana took a deep breath. “Since we met?” she managed to ask.

“No, no,” Ridge assured her quickly. “But do you understand? I don’t come to you as I believe you’re coming to me. You are pure, untouched, and that’s a tremendous gift to me. If we were to marry, it would be the greatest gift I could ever be given.”

Alexana nodded in understanding. “You’re telling me that you’re not a virgin. Did you think that I would be surprised? I pegged you as a womanizer the first day I saw you. I can accept it, as long as I’m the only woman you want to womanize anymore,” she told him.

“No,” Ridge remained unconvinced. “Don’t let me off the hook. I was wrong, Alexana. I was wrong to be with any woman I didn’t feel this incredible love for. And there were many …”

“Stop.” She spoke firmly. “I don’t want to hear it, Ridge. I don’t want to know how many or who they were.” She leaned forward. “When you accepted Christ, Ridge, God forgave you. You became a new creation in his eyes. When that happened, you became a new creation in my eyes as well. To me, you
are
pure, untouched.”

Ridge smiled timidly, ruefully.

“Truly,” she said, willing him to comprehend her words. “If we do marry, we’ll share something special, something beautiful. And no, I have not been touched in that way by another man. That will be my gift to you. Your gift to me will be a lifelong, sacred promise that you’ll never touch another.

“But Ridge, you must know the most hurtful, hateful thing I can imagine would be to find my husband with another woman. I never
want to deal with that. Is that something you could promise me, for the rest of your life?”

Ridge studied her, his gaze unwavering. “Yes. For you, I have no question in my mind that I could do it. But Alexana,” he said, finally taking her hand, “I need to ask you for forgiveness. I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you. I didn’t know I would feel this way. I didn’t know it could be like this.”

With her free hand Alexana gently caressed his face, feeling the trace of beard stubble upon the firm jaw line beneath her fingertips. Ridge’s eyes glistened with earnest tears. She remained silent for a moment, thinking before answering him.

“I’m sad that I won’t be the only one for you, Ridge,” she said at last. “I can’t deny that. But I love you, and so I forgive you,” she said with compassion. “I forgive you,” she repeated softly.

A
lexana watched as Ridge and Steve came down the excavation ramp, filming interviews with workers along the way. She studied Ridge, remembering their dinner date. His frank confession hadn’t really come as a surprise, but the reality of it had been a shock to her system. She had avoided him for a couple of days, taking time to weigh her feelings.

Ridge reached her side and, after casting a furtive look about, pulled her into his arms for a brief hug and a kiss. She clung to him, not caring who saw them. “I love you, Ridge McIntyre,” she said solemnly.

Ridge smiled joyfully. “I love you too, Alexana Roarke. It sounds great to hear you say that. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His smile grew. “I was beginning to wonder when you started avoiding me after our dinner at the Seven Arches.”

“I just needed a little space, a little time, to process it all.”

“I understand that,” he said soberly, catching her meaning. “And you’re okay?”

“Right as rain.” She spoke with assurance. “Maybe it’s because I’m in love, but I’ve never felt anything so clearly in all my life. I think being in love echoes what it’s like to have a relationship with
Jesus.” She released Ridge and smiled impishly up at him, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Now, come see what we’ve found. You’ll want to bring your cameraman with you.”

Ridge smiled back into her eyes with a look of genuine admiration. “What does Dr. Roarke have in store for me now?” he quipped, waving Steve over. They quickly joined Sam and a large crew working below on a column that bordered the main stairway of the Double Gate.

Sam stood in front of the gigantic column, photographing one section over and over, while the crew fairly bristled with excitement.

“This discovery is big, isn’t it?” Ridge asked, surveying the workers.

“Yes, it is,” Alexana said. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea, revealing an inscription in the stone that Ridge could not read.

“Well?” He waited for someone to explain.

“It’s Aramaic,” Sam said excitedly.

“What does it say?” Ridge asked in exasperation.

“Let me tell him,” Alexana said softly.

“Wait!” Steve said. “Let’s get this moment on film.” The bright light snapped on, and Steve counted down as Alexana went to stand beside the column.

“In three, two, one …”

“We’re here with Dr. Alexana Roarke under the Temple Mount in Jerusalem where her excavation team has just made an amazing discovery,” Ridge automatically said, facing the camera. “After digging for several weeks, workers have made it to Stratum Three. We stand at the base of the steps that once led up into the great Jewish Temple that stood during Jesus’ lifetime. Dr. Roarke, please tell us what you’ve discovered.”

Lightly, reverently, Alexana rubbed her hands over the inscription. She read the words first in Aramaic, then translated: “ ‘All praise to the Lord Jesus Christ the Messiah who healed me at … of Peter.’ You see, the column has been damaged here, destroying some of the words, but we believe they must have once said ‘at the hands of Peter.’ ”

Ridge smiled, beginning to understand the team’s excitement. “How have you come to those conclusions, Dr. Roarke?”

“Acts 3 tells of a lame man who always begged for alms, then was healed by Peter as the disciples entered the temple. Peter said to the man, ‘Silver and gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.’ This healing apparently took place upstairs on the Temple Mount, because the Bible says that it happened at ‘the gate called Beautiful’ and that the people ran to them where they stood in Solomon’s portico, both of which are found above us.”

Alexana turned to gaze directly into the camera. She had just read the text again, and it burned in her memory. “The Bible says that the lame man got up and joined Peter and John, ‘walking and leaping and praising God.’ A man who was handicapped, presumably for most of his life, actually stood, ‘walking and jumping, and praising God.’ ”

“It is an amazing discovery indeed, Dr. Roarke,” Ridge managed to squeak out, awed. He hoped his voice sounded stronger to the viewer than it did in his own ears. “But tell us, if the man was healed upstairs at the Beautiful Gate, why would the inscription be found down here?”

“This was the central Jewish temple,” Alexana explained. “The Sanhedrin were none too happy to have Christian disciples healing
and preaching about Jesus right there in their courtyard. In Acts 4, we learn that Peter and John were arrested and placed before the high priests. They were questioned as to who had given them the power to perform such acts.”

Alexana opened up her pocket Bible and read, “Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them: ‘Rulers and elders of the people! If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He is “the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.” Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.’ ”