Marrying a Delacourt (15 page)

When he turned into a tree-lined driveway, Grace noticed that his house was on a larger lot than most and set well back from the road. A hedge afforded it some privacy. Beyond that, the house itself was much like its neighbors, built of light-colored brick, trimmed in white, with an attached two-car garage on the side. Shrubs and flowers added splashes of color.

“It’s lovely,” Grace said, something deep inside responding to its welcoming appearance and to the fact that a wealthy, powerful man like Michael had chosen a down-to-earth home like this.

When they walked through the front door, she had to keep herself from gasping in surprise. It was open and airy and filled with the same kind of cozy touches that had made Trish’s house so appealing. The same kind he had told her he’d loved about their apartment.

“I had it gutted down here to create a more open feeling. Trish helped me out with the decorating,” he said, his gaze intense, maybe even a little worried. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. The colors, all those windows looking out on the backyard, the trees and flowers.
It must feel as if you’re living in a garden, just like it does at Trish’s.”

He regarded her with surprise. “I never thought of it that way, but I suppose it does,” Michael said. “I guess I tried to create what we had once along with what she had in Los Piños without even realizing it.”

Josh and Jamie had their noses pressed to the glass doors, eyeing the inviting, crystal blue pool.

“Can we really swim while we’re here?” Josh asked.

“Sure. There are extra suits in that room off the kitchen. There should be a couple that fit. Don’t go in the water, though, until Grace and I get out there.”

“How long will that be?” Josh asked impatiently.

“Not long,” Grace assured him.

“As soon as I show her the rest of the house,” Michael said, then held out his hand. “Come see the upstairs.”

Like the downstairs, each room brought the outdoors in with huge windows and complementary bedspreads in the dark greens and splashy florals of the gardens outside. She counted three bedrooms before he led her to the master suite.

“Best for last,” he said, stepping aside to let her walk in.

It was, too. She could imagine him in this room with its crisp, clean fabrics and soft sage color. The dresser was littered with framed family photos. Gold cufflinks were tossed carelessly aside next to scattered change.

Then there was the bed. Oh, my, she thought as her eyes widened and her pulse kicked up. It was a huge, thoroughly decadent bed with a thick, puffy
comforter and piles of pillows. She could imagine making love in that bed, then snuggling together under those covers for warmth as a chilly breeze stole in from the open doors that led onto a small balcony overlooking the backyard and the forested property beyond.

“What do you think?” Michael asked.

Grace’s mouth was dry. Words wouldn’t seem to form.

He grinned. “Tempting isn’t it?” he asked, stepping up behind her and circling her waist. He linked his fingers loosely in front of her and rested his chin on top of her head. She could feel his breath fanning across her cheek.

“More than you know,” she said honestly.

“Gracie?”

He never called her that except when they were alone and intimate. She trembled at the memories of him whispering it at the height of passion.

“Move in here.”

She broke free of his embrace to stare. “Here?”

“Why not? You love it. The boys will, too.”

“I can’t,” she said at once. “We can’t. The court would have a cow about me bringing those two boys to live with you.”

He had the audacity to chuckle at her indignation. “You mean if we were living here in sin, so to speak.”

“Well, of course. And it’s nothing to joke about, Michael.”

“I’m not joking, Gracie. And I’m not suggesting we set up some sort of informal living arrangement. I want you to marry me. I want us to be a family.
This house was made for lots of kids. It was made for us. We can be happy here.”

Listening to him, Grace knew the real meaning of temptation. This house. Michael. It was all she’d ever dreamed of, but he’d neglected to mention one thing. He hadn’t said anything at all about love. They would need a lot of it if they were going to make it, a lot of it as they learned the art of compromise.

The old Michael had had absolutely no experience with the concept of compromise. She had no reason to believe he’d changed.

“I can’t marry you,” she said sadly. “I want to, more than you’ll ever know, but I can’t.”

He stiffened at her refusal and his eyes darkened with hurt. “Why is that? I thought we’d made progress the last few days.”

“We have,” she agreed. “But it hasn’t even been a week, Michael, and old habits die hard.”

“Which old habit are we talking about? You hating me for letting you down?”

She winced at the direct hit. She wanted to believe the accusation was unfair, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the past. Maybe she needed a whole lot more than a few days worth of evidence before she believed he’d really changed.

“No, you caring about anything more than your job,” she said quietly.

“I see.”

“Maybe I should get the boys and go,” she said, feeling as if something inside had shattered. Her heart, maybe.

“No, stay. Let them have their swim. I’m sure you and I can maintain a polite facade for their sake.”

“Dammit, Michael, I don’t want to maintain any kind of a facade. This is about facing reality. I won’t set those two up for more disappointments. I can’t.”

He shook his head, regarding her with something that might have been pity. “It isn’t about disappointing them, Grace. It’s about disappointing you. You’re scared to take a chance. The worst part is that on one level I can’t really blame you for that. I just don’t know how to prove to you that I will never let you down again.”

And that, she thought, was the saddest thing of all, because she didn’t know how he could, either.

M
ichael had every intention of fighting for Grace, of doing whatever it took to convince her that they should be a family. He knew she loved him, knew that they could make it work, but he had to find a way to prove it to her. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what that proof might be.

And then, just before dawn on Monday morning, his phone rang, waking him from a sound sleep. At first he couldn’t grasp what his mother was saying.

“Mother, slow down. You’re not making any sense.”

“It’s your father, Michael. He got out of bed a little while ago and went to the kitchen to make coffee.” She choked back a sob. “That’s where I found him, in the kitchen, on the floor.”

Michael felt his heart slam against his ribs. “Is he okay? What happened?”

“The paramedics say he’s had a heart attack. I don’t know how serious it is, but he hasn’t come to. That can’t be good, Michael. They’ve taken him to the hospital. Can you call the others and meet me there?”

“I’m on my way,” Michael said at once. “Mother, get a neighbor to drive you, okay? Promise me. Don’t drive while you’re this upset.”

“Pauline is here. She’ll take me.”

Pauline was the housekeeper who had been with them for the past ten years. She was as close as family and she was a rock in a crisis. She would take good care of his mother.

Michael yanked on the first clothes he could grab, then raced to his car. He spent the drive to the hospital making calls on his cell phone. He caught up with Dylan, who’d miraculously returned home to Los Piños, probably five seconds after Michael’s departure. Dylan promised to call Trish.

“We’ll be over there as fast as we can get there. Call me if you have any news in the meantime.”

“I will.”

“He’s going to be okay, Michael. Dad’s tough. He’ll outlive us all.”

“I pray you’re right,” Michael said. He had this terrible, gut-deep fear that his behavior on Saturday had been the blow that caused this. Had his father felt Michael slipping away as the others had done? Was he convinced that all his years of hard work to build an empire for his family had been wasted? If
so, that would have created unbearable stress for a man like Bryce Delacourt.

Because he couldn’t bear to think about that, he concentrated on trying to track down Jeb on his honeymoon. When he finally reached him, Jeb was ready to fly home immediately.

“Wait,” Michael advised. “I’ll call you back as soon as I get to the hospital. Let’s see where we are, before you cut your honeymoon short.”

“I need to be there,” Jeb protested.

“You won’t get here in the next fifteen minutes. Sit tight for that long, at least. Then you can decide.”

“Call me the minute you know anything.”

“I promise.”

That left Tyler, but try as he might, Michael couldn’t locate his brother anywhere, not at his apartment in Houston, not at work on the oil rig.

“I’ll track him down,” the supervisor of operations at the rig said.

“Do you even know where to look?”

“He spends a lot of time in Baton Rouge. If he’s there, one of the men will locate him.”

“Thanks,” Michael said, hanging up just as he turned into the hospital parking lot, tires squealing.

Minutes later, he found his mother in the emergency room waiting area, looking as unkempt as he’d ever seen her in public. It was testament to her panic that she hadn’t even combed her hair or changed out of her bathrobe. She was crying silently as Pauline patted her hand and murmured reassurances. The housekeeper spotted him first and stood up to give him a fierce hug.

“It’s good you’re here, Michael. She’s going to make herself sick with worrying.”

“Has there been any word yet?”

“Nothing,” Pauline said.

He gave his mother a quick kiss, then said to the housekeeper, “Stay with her. I’ll see what I can find out.”

It turned out to be easier said than done to get a straight answer. Either no one he approached knew anything or they were too busy to stop and explain what was happening.

“Please, Mr. Delacourt, the doctor will be out to talk to you as soon as he has a minute,” a nurse told him at the entrance to what was apparently his father’s treatment cubicle. “You can’t come in here. Let the doctor do his job.”

He glanced past her. All he could see amid the cluster of doctors and nurses and machines was a glimpse of ashen skin. “Is he going to make it?”

“This team is the best. They’ll give him every chance humanly possible. The rest will be up to God. Maybe you could spend some of this waiting time praying to Him.”

Michael knew the suggestion was well-meant, but he’d been praying all the way over here. He wanted answers now. He felt a reassuring touch on his shoulder and turned to find Grace regarding him with a concerned expression.

“Michael, let them work.”

Shock at finding her here was rapidly replaced by relief. He desperately needed her right now, needed to hold onto something real and positive. “How did you hear about this?”

“It was on the radio. I was on my way to the courthouse when I heard it. I knew you’d be here and that you’d be causing trouble.”

He managed an exhausted grin. “You know me, I hate anything I can’t control.”

“He’ll be okay,” she said. “Believe that.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“I spoke to your mother. She’s holding up okay. As soon as we get back there to be with her, Pauline said she was going to go home and get some clothes for her. Come on, let’s go keep her company. The sooner she gets to freshen up a bit, the better she’ll feel.”

She turned, but when Michael didn’t follow at once, she glanced back. “What?”

“You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here.” He shook his head, hoping to clear it of this fog of disbelief that made everything that had happened this morning seem surreal. “I’m scared, Grace. The only other time I’ve been this scared was when you walked out on me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she simply took his hand and squeezed it. The gesture, her presence, provided more comfort than he had any right to expect.

As they waited for what seemed to be an eternity, Grace encouraged his mother to talk, then told her about Josh and Jamie, anything to keep her distracted. Finally, at nine-thirty, a tall man in green scrubs came into the waiting area looking for them. Michael tried to read his expression, but for once his ability to gauge moods failed him.

The doctor took a seat beside Michael’s mother.
“I won’t lie to you,” he said. “It was touch and go for a while in there, but we have your husband stabilized for now. I’ve got an operating room waiting. He needs a triple bypass and he needs it now. I’d like to wait, but, frankly, I don’t think that’s an option.”

“Without it, he’ll die?” his mother asked in a hushed whisper.

“Let’s just say I don’t like the odds if we wait,” the doctor said. “I’ve been trying to get him to come in for a test for months now, but he wouldn’t take the time.”

So this wasn’t as unexpected as Michael had thought. His father had seen a cardiologist, then ignored his advice. That was typical of him.

“Has he been conscious at all?” his mother asked.

“He’s been in and out. Now he’s sedated.”

His mother looked at him. “Michael, what do you think?”

“There’s no choice, Mother. We have to let him perform the surgery. We have to give Dad that chance.” He leveled a look straight at the doctor. “Could he die anyway?”

“Yes,” the doctor said bluntly. “But the odds of him pulling through go up considerably if he makes it through the operation, makes some lifestyle changes, eats better, gets rid of some of the stress in his life.”

Michael nodded. “We’ll see to it, doctor. You keep him alive through the surgery and we’ll see to the rest.”

Tyler’s litany of warnings came back to haunt him. Was this the future he faced if he didn’t make those
same changes? One glance at Grace proved she was thinking the same thing. She didn’t need to say a word for him to get the message loud and clear.

The next few hours passed in a complete haze. Dylan and Trish arrived. Michael spoke to Jeb and filled him in. This time Jeb wouldn’t be dissuaded from coming home.

“Brianna agrees. We belong there. We’ve already made reservations. We’ll be there tonight. Is everyone else accounted for?”

“Everyone except Tyler,” Michael said. “I can’t find him. He’s not answering his cell phone. His boss is trying to track him down in Baton Rouge.”

“Keep trying. He’ll never forgive himself if something happens to Dad and he’s not there.”

“I know.”

“You okay, Michael?”

He glanced at Grace, who gave him a quick, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m hanging in there, thanks to a little help from an old friend.”

“Care to explain that one?”

“You’ll see when you get here.”

When he’d tucked the cell phone back in his pocket, Grace left the conversation she was having with Trish and his mother to come to him.

“How about some coffee? Something to eat?”

“Nothing.” He smacked his fist against the wall. “Damn, I hate this waiting.”

“I know.”

“Where are Jamie and Josh?”

“I made arrangements for a neighbor to keep them while I was at work today.”

“Work?” He stared at her blankly, then shook
himself. “Of course, it’s Monday, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be there?”

“It was more important for me to be here.”

She said it matter-of-factly, but Michael heard something else in her voice. She was sending yet another message about her priorities and how she had always put the people in her life first. Unlike him.

As if she sensed his troubled thoughts, she gave his hand another squeeze. “It’s okay, Michael. I will have to go soon, though. I promised her I’d pick them up by four.”

Michael glanced at his watch, stunned to see that it was after three. “What the hell is taking so long?”

“This isn’t something you want them to rush,” she reminded him quietly.

“No, no, of course not.”

No sooner had he spoken than the doctor came through the swinging doors. Michael introduced him to Dylan and Trish, then asked, “Well, how did it go?”

“He came through the surgery like the stubborn old man he is. He’s in recovery now. We’ll move him to Cardiac Intensive Care later. He’ll be there a few days.”

“Then?”

“If all goes well, he’ll go into a regular room and be home by the weekend, chomping at the bit to go back to work. I’d suggest you prevent that if humanly possible,” he said with a slight grin.

“I’ll see that he doesn’t,” Michael said grimly.

“No, I will,” his mother said forcefully. “He will not set foot in the office until I say it’s okay. I don’t
care if that blasted company goes bankrupt in the meantime.”

All of them stared at her in shock.

“Well, I don’t. It’s robbed me of too many years with my husband as it is. I won’t let it steal him from me forever. And that’s final.”

Dylan turned slowly to Michael. “You going to be able to take up the slack?”

“Of course,” he said firmly, but even as he spoke he saw Grace’s expression of dismay. She whirled around and took off down the hall before he could break away to catch her.

Couldn’t she see that he had no choice, that this was an emergency? How could he make her understand that this didn’t change his promise to her, that he still intended to do everything in his power to spend time with her and Josh and Jamie?

All the way home Grace told herself she was being unreasonable. Of course Michael had to step in and help out while his father recuperated. But she knew in her heart that this was no temporary measure. Even if Bryce Delacourt recovered fully, his wife would see to it that he didn’t go back to working at the same pace he’d set for himself before. She had heard that determination in Mrs. Delacourt’s voice. That left the day-to-day operation of the company to Michael. He would immerse himself in it, because that was his nature and because he saw it as his duty.

It didn’t help that Josh and Jamie greeted her with a hundred questions about Michael’s whereabouts.

“I want to tell him about all the neat stuff we did today,” Josh said.

“He can’t come over tonight,” Grace told them, knowing that unless she put an end to their expectations now, they would go on being disappointed. “His father’s in the hospital.”

“Is he gonna die?” Jamie asked, looking worried.

“It looks as if he’ll make a full recovery,” Grace said. “But this means that Michael is going to be very, very busy for quite a while with the family business. I don’t think we’ll see too much of him.”

Josh looked ready to cry, but Jamie just regarded her stoically. “I figured he wouldn’t stick around. Who cares? We don’t need him.”

Grace gathered both boys close and gave them a fierce hug. The problem was they did need him. All of them did. And maybe she needed Michael most of all.

Everyone else had gone home to get some much-needed sleep, but Michael remained in the waiting area outside of the intensive care unit, slouched down in an uncomfortable chair, drinking coffee the strength of battery acid.

That was where Tyler found him at midnight.

“How is he?” he demanded, his gaze shifting from Michael to the doors of the cardiac unit.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tyler said, raking his hand through his hair. “How is he?”

“He’ll make it.”

Tyler sank down on a plastic chair. “Thank God. I was scared to death I wouldn’t get here in time.”

“Even Jeb and Brianna beat you here,” Michael said, not cutting his brother any slack.

“The point is, I came the minute I heard.”

“Tyler, where were you? It’s not like you to just up and disappear.”

“I was living my life,” Tyler snapped back. “It’s something you should consider.” Before Michael could utter a sharp retort, he added, “I suppose you’ll bury yourself in work again to take up the slack while Dad’s out.”

“Of course I will. You might consider coming back for a while, too.”

“Not a chance. And if you have an ounce of sense in your head, you won’t do it either.”