The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 94

Derian lifted a shoulder. “Maybe it’s time.”

“You ought to be able to pick the timing of your battles yourself.”

“I’m not sure life works that way. Sometimes the battles come to us, and until they do, we don’t know where we stand.”

“Well I don’t expect you to go to battle for us.”

“So far I can’t say I have. I don’t know much more today than I did yesterday. Donatella is my father’s choice, and exactly what his agenda might be, Aud probably knows, but, well—”

Emily doubted Derian wanted to create difficulties with Aud over something she’d never wanted to get involved in. Especially if they were in the process of reconnecting. “I’ll do my best to keep everyone calm. I’m sure this will all be straightened out before long.”

“I promised Henrietta I’d do my best to help, and so far I haven’t done much.”

Emily took Derian’s hand. “That is so very untrue. Just your being here means everything.”

“Your faith in me is a little scary.”

Emily smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect miracles.”

“What do you expect?”

“Only that you do what feels right.”

At the moment, kissing Emily again was the only thing on Derian’s mind, and she was pretty sure, under the circumstances, that probably wasn’t the right move. All the same, she savored the heat of Emily’s hand in hers. “I’ll do my best.”

Emily’s gaze held hers, as warm as an embrace. “That’s more than enough.”

Derian’s chest filled with a sensation she couldn’t immediately place. Finally she recognized it. Emily’s certainty filled her with pride, and she’d do anything not to disappoint her. All she had to do was figure out where to start.



*



“You’re awake.” Derian grinned broadly and leaned down to kiss Henrietta’s cheek. The light tentative touch of Henrietta’s answering caress on her cheek lifted her heart almost as much as the clear recognition and familiar sharpness in Henrietta’s eyes.

“You look better than the last time I saw you,” Henrietta said slowly, her raspy voice fainter than usual but clear.

Derian chuckled. “As a matter of fact, so do you.”

“What is this place?”

“Intermediate care.” Derian pulled a chair close to the bed. “They tell me you made it out of the ICU in record time.”

“Too long for me.”

“I think a day and a half, most of which you were sleeping, is a record.”

“Who can sleep with all that constant noise, perpetual lights, and interruptions every five seconds.”

Derian folded her arms on the low rail encircling Henrietta’s bed and leaned her chin on her arms. The nurses had said the first twenty-four hours were the most crucial, and she’d spent most of the past day prowling the halls outside the ICU, visiting as often as they would let her in. Emily had been there twice, and each time she’d seen her, the acid in her belly had calmed. Aud had called. Martin had not come. “I bet the nurses in the ICU miss you.”