His Perfect Match (10 page)

“What do you mean?”

“Liz is nervous about your intentions, and she's very protective of Marc.”

“I know that.”

“No, I don't think you do. She's changed, Darius. Life had hardened her and that boy is the center of her world. If she feels you are a threat to that world…” She shook her head sadly.

Darius tilted his head considering her words. It felt like a warning. “Go on.”

“Like I said—she's changed.”

Darius looked at the older woman wondering what subtle message she was trying to send. Was she warning him away? Or telling him to tread lightly? Either way, he needed her to understand he would not under any circumstances be kept away from his son.

“I've changed as well, Dee.”

She nodded. “I know. I see it in you. You're more human now.”

He frowned. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

“I didn't see you that often, but I remember what you were like. So caught up in your plans and ambitions, you didn't notice much else.”

That message hit the mark. “You're the second person to accuse me of that. What happened between Liz and Darren was
not
because I was not paying attention.”

“I never said it was. It's just that from my point of view it seemed like Liz was more of a prop in your life, not really anything important to you, just something you needed to move your plans forward.”

“That is not true!” He struggled to sit up again, but the pain shooting through his body became unbearable. “I love Liz!” For some reason the accusation stung like a burn in his chest.

“Slow down.” Dee stood and gently placed her hand on his chest. “You're gonna hurt yourself.”

“Liz was not a prop for me! She was the most important thing in my life!”

“Did you ever tell her that?”

“Yes! With a ring!”

A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?” She crossed to the bed, her sharp eyes taking in the recordings of the machines. “Mr. North, you're going to have to calm down now.” She glanced at Dee. “What's going on here?”

Dee's faced twisted with regret. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset him.”

“I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” the nurse said sternly, but Darius put his hand up.

“Wait! Don't send her away.” He sighed. “I'll relax.” He took a deep breath. “See? Better already.”

“You really need to rest, Mr. North.” The nurse's lip firmed in a thin line of determination.

“I know, I will. I just need to talk to her privately for a minute.”

The nurse glanced between the pair as though considering what to do.

“Please, just a few moments more,” he pleaded.

“Fine.” The nurse turned to Dee. “And then, you need to leave and let him rest.”

“I will,” Dee reassured the nurse's retreating back as she left the room. She turned back to Darius. “I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you.”

Darius's mind had turned inward, but he still heard her. “It's okay, Dee, I think I needed upsetting.”

L
ater that day, Darius was beginning to feel the effects of some recently administered painkillers when he felt a presence in the room. He opened his eyes to find Liz standing beside the bed watching him with watery eyes.

“How's Marc?” His drowsy voice startled her.

“I thought you were asleep.” Liz smiled, and the water spilled over to her cheek. “He's doing fine.”

“Good.”

“How are you?”

“Good. The doctor said I should be released in three days.”

“That's standard. Marc should be coming home around the same time.” She toyed with the arm of the bed. “Darius, I want you to come home with us when you leave here.”

“No, Liz, thanks, but I couldn't impose on you that
way. And in a few days I'll be heading back to New Zealand anyway.”

Her eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Already?”

“I've been away too long as it is.”

She shook her head firmly. “Okay—but I insist you stay with us until you leave.”

“Liz, really—”

“I insist.”

“All right. If you insist.” Darius sighed, knowing he was in no shape to argue with her, and besides, the idea of spending his recovery time alone in a sterile hotel room, as opposed to spending it in Liz's cozy, small home with his son didn't come close to being appealing.

“Look…about what happened earlier in the stairwell.”

“Forget it.” Darius turned his head away and reached for his water cup. The sting of that particular burn was still too fresh, and he had no intention of letting her know that she could still inflict that kind of hurt on him. “We were both angry and it got out of hand. But I meant what I said, Liz, I want to be a part of Marc's life.” He glanced at her. “It bothers me that he calls me Uncle Darius. What is he going to think when he learns the truth?”

“You think I don't worry about that?”

“We need to explain it to him in a way he can understand.”

“I'll explain it to him.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“Three months.”

“What?”

“In three months you'll be coming to Tairua, and if you haven't told him the truth by then, I will.”

They simply stared at each other, the silent challenge was palpable.

His eyes narrowed. “I mean it. You have three months to tell him the truth, Liz. One way or another my son
will
grow up knowing who his father is. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly,” she said softly, then turned and started toward the door. “I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Just let the nurse know if you need anything and I'll see you at check out.”

“Liz.”

She paused in the doorway.

“If you want to withdraw the invitation to stay at your house, I'll understand.”

“Why would I do that?”

He simply looked at her knowing they both knew why.

“One thing has nothing to do with the other, Darius. You have given my son something no one else could, and for that I will always be grateful. The fact that you require a price for it shouldn't surprise me. After all, making a profit has
always
been your highest priority.”

 

A week later, Darius lay on one end of the couch in Liz's small living room examining the chess board on the small fold-away tray between him and the other convalescent resting on a loveseat across from him.

“Uncle Darius, do you plan to move anytime today?”

“Don't rush me, boy,” Darius grumbled, still examining the board.

“You take longer than Mom.”

A snicker came from the other end of the couch where Liz was sitting with her legs folded beneath her, grading test papers.

“Considering your last two games with him, I wouldn't snicker too loudly,” Darius said.

This time a snicker came from across the room, where Dee sat knitting what would eventually be a man's sweater.

Darius chose his move and as soon as he lifted his hand, Marc took his move and called checkmate.

Darius looked at Liz in stunned amazement. “Did you see that?”

“I didn't have to. He's tricked me like that too many times to count.”

Marc laughed loudly. “I win! Again! You lose—I win! I'm a winner, and you're—”

Darius pointed a stern finger at his son. “
Don't
say it.”

Marc's only response was more laughter.

Darius stretched and a loud yawn slipped out. He immediately regretted it as everyone took it as a signal to clear out.

Liz stood from her position on the end of the couch and Darius could not resist letting his eyes roam over her shapely blue-jean-clad bottom. It was too easy to remember all the many nights he'd held those firm cheeks in the palms of his hands. So long ago, and yet it felt like yesterday.

Dee began gathering up her supplies and packing them away, as well.

“Really, you all don't have to leave. I'm not sleepy. It was just a little yawn.”

“You need your rest,” Liz said, picking up the pile of bedding neatly folded beside the couch.

“Do I have to go to bed?” Marc whined. “I don't have any school tomorrow. Can't I stay up?”

“Absolutely not, young man. You may be off this
week but we're staying on your schedule. Monday will be here before you know it. Now, go brush your teeth.”

“Night, Uncle Darius.” Marc turned with slumped shoulders and wandered toward the bathroom.

“Liz, really. You don't have to shut down the whole household every time I rub my eyes.”

“You need to rest, Darius,” Dee called back over her shoulder heading to her basement apartment. “You've got a ways to go before you'll be back to full strength.”

Darius looked up at Liz realizing they were alone for the first time since Marc and he had come home from the hospital. She stood with her hands on her slender hips and he knew that he had no chance of winning this argument.

He stood and began making the couch into a bed as he did every night.

“Sure you don't want any help?” Liz offered as she did every night.

“No, thanks. You've done enough.”

“Okay.” She turned and headed down the hallway toward her bedroom. “See you in the morning.”

“Liz?”

She turned at the sound of her name.

“After Darren, why didn't you ever marry? I mean you're only thirty.” He tossed the sheet over the couch and began tucking it in.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “I don't feel thirty.” She laughed, and shrugged her shoulders. “Beside, I guess I never really considered it. With work and Marc and school, where was I suppose to find time to date?”

He tossed the pillows to the head of the couch, and stood staring at her for several long seconds. “I just wondered.”

“What about you?” She leaned against the wall, folding her arms across her chest. “Why didn't you ever marry?”

He picked up the blanket as his mind wandered back. He smirked. “I came close once.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was a local real estate agent. Smart, beautiful and we seemed to be a good fit.” He sat down on the sheet, still holding the blanket in his arms.

“What happened?”

“Turns out she had a little nervous condition.”

“What kind of nervous condition?”

“When she got stressed out at work, or if we'd have an argument, a day or so later my guests would complain about their possessions coming up missing.”

Liz covered her mouth in shock.

“Being the fiancée of the hotel owner, she had complete access to my master keys. I mean, I never hid them from her, didn't realize there was any need to.”

“What happened?”

“When I realized it was her, I confronted her and she totally broke down. She broke off the engagement, said she'd been doing this type of thing for years, and now she just wanted to concentrate on getting help.”

Liz crossed the room and sat down beside him. “Oh, Darius, I'm so sorry.”

“Hey.” He shrugged. “Life happens.”

“We're quite a pair, huh?” Liz chuckled.

“Yes, we are.” He smiled, looking at her pretty face. Darius felt an almost overwhelming desire to lean forward and kiss her, but remembering the stairwell incident he fought it down. “Do you miss Darren?”

Liz reached up and ran her hands through her long hair, shaking it free of the small scrunchy that was
barely holding it back. “No, not really. I hope that doesn't sound terrible. But, I realized…afterward, that I didn't really know him at all.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Darius sat perfectly still, not wanting to give her a single reason to move. “He died before either of us could change that. It's hard to miss someone you never really knew.

“Do you miss your fiancée?” she asked on a yawn.

“I don't know if
miss
is the right word. I wish I had done more to help her.”

As if suddenly realizing what she was doing—leaning on his shoulder and fast on her way to sleep—Liz bolted to an upright position. “Well, I'm heading to bed. See you in the morning.”

“Okay.” He returned to making up the couch.

Liz headed down the hall to her bedroom, thinking over what she'd just been told. In all their conversations, somehow it had not occurred to her that Darius might've been engaged to someone else. She wasn't sure why she'd never considered it, after all, it made complete sense. He was gorgeous, successful and generous. Hell, if she hadn't been such a fool she would've gone ahead with their wedding all those years ago.

But somehow, knowing he'd had another failed relationship only made her feel worse, as if she were somehow to blame. She peeked into Marc's room and found him leaning over a toybox. “Get to bed, sweetheart.”

He didn't move, and her heart skipped a beat as she hurried across the room to him. She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath at the sound of the soft snoring coming from the toybox. With a shake of her head, Liz gathered her sleeping son in her arms and carried him to his bed.

Tucking his covers around his small body, she smiled as she noticed the bruised areas on his arms were beginning to fade. Gently, she leaned forward and kissed the small spots that were still slightly bruised, and said a silent prayer that the days of dialysis were now behind them.

Standing, she kissed his forehead and headed across the hall to her own room. She paused and glanced back toward the living room, which was now dark. Apparently, both her patients were more tired than they thought.

Liz lay in bed staring at the ceiling for almost two hours before she finally realized she would not be falling asleep anytime soon. There was too much running through her head and she replayed the last few weeks over and over in her mind. And not only the last few weeks; she found her thoughts wandering back further and further.

She remembered the anger and disdain on the faces of her parents when she'd come home from Vegas, and her amazement when they'd slammed the door in the faces of her and her infant son without the slightest hesitation, without the slightest regret that they were abandoning not only her, but their grandchild. Of everything that had happened to her over the past years, the rejection by her parents was perhaps the most shocking. She'd just always assumed they would forgive her anything. But apparently, public humiliation was the deal-breaker.

She thought back to when Marc was just a toddler, and the cramped one-bedroom apartment she'd shared with Dee. What would she have done if Dee had not opened her home and heart to them? She remembered the fear and excitement she'd experienced as she'd filled out the registration for school that first time. She re
membered the mild reaction she'd had to the news that Marc was diabetic. Back then, she'd had no real understanding of the disease or what it could do to a body. But by the time he'd been diagnosed with kidney failure she understood, and terror had gripped her heart.

Her life had changed so much over the past ten years and yet, in some ways, not at all. Certainly, having Darius here with her only served to remind her of the past. But that wasn't a bad thing, she was finding. The qualities in him she'd found boring as a teenage girl were now comforting and reassuring to the grown woman she'd become. Darius was the kind of man you could depend on, she'd always known that. But now she appreciated the value of that quality in a man. He wanted to be a father to Marc, and having toed the line alone for so long, it was nice to have someone willing and able to help.

She folded her arms behind her head, lying there in the dark remembering just how long it had been since she'd been with a man. She tried calculating by months, thinking somehow it sounded better if broken down into months. She sighed. Nope, pathetic anyway you counted it.