Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“I love you,” he said, looking right at her, and she closed her eyes. He was still holding her and he wouldn't let go, and she didn't want to see him.

“I don't want to hear it.” But she didn't move away either.

“It's true. It always was. I love you… oh, God, even if you leave me now, please believe that. I will always love you… just like I loved Todd…” He was crying again, and without meaning to, she bowed her head, and put it on his shoulder. She could suddenly remember how painful it was, when it had happened to them, and Bill hadn't been there for her. He had been so dead and hurt and frozen that he couldn't help her. And now he was crying for their son, and so was she, as she clung to her husband. “I love you so much,” Bill said again, and then he kissed her, and she tried to back away, and pull away from him, but she couldn't. Instead she found herself kissing him, and hating herself for it. How could she be so weak? How could she give in to him? And the worst thing was that she wanted to kiss him.

“Don't,” she said, when he stopped, and they were both breathless. But she found that kissing him had soothed the hurt even if it didn't end the pain. And then he kissed her again, and she kissed him, and it felt like she never wanted him to stop, for forever. “This is not appropriate,” she said breathlessly. “I came here to divorce you.”

“I know,” he said, kissing her, and then suddenly it had gone much further. He was touching her and holding her and she was kissing him, and neither of them could understand their attraction for each other. It hadn't happened to them for a year, and now suddenly they were both overwhelmed with desire, and before either of them knew what had occurred, they were in bed, and she had never wanted him as much or been more aroused by him, and he was seized with passion for her as he had never known it. The room was strewn with their clothes, and they were both exhausted when they finally stopped. It had been a year for both of them, and as she lay and looked at him, she grinned, and then suddenly she laughed, it was all so absurd, and he was smiling.

“This is disgusting,” she said, still grinning at him. “I came here to divorce you.”

“I know,” he said, but he was still smiling. “I can't believe this. I don't know what happened… let's do it again…” And an hour later, they did. They talked and they made love, and he lay in her arms and cried for their son, and what he had done to her, and they made love again. He never saw his secretary again that day and she had no idea what had happened to him except that he had said he was going to an important meeting, and that was what she told everyone who called him.

They were still naked and in bed at six o'clock, and they were spent. He asked her if she wanted room service, but all she wanted was to be with him, and she slept in his arms. And when she woke the next morning, he was looking at her, praying it hadn't been a dream. The one thing he knew in his life, with all the uncertainties he'd found, was that he didn't want to lose her. And he told her that over breakfast. He had ordered a huge breakfast for both of them, they were starving, for food and each other. And as they sat and talked, he asked her what she wanted to do that day. He made it sound as though they were on vacation.

“Don't you have to work?” she asked, finishing her omelette, and taking a sip of coffee.

“I'm taking the day off. If you're going back to New York, I want to be with you before you go,” and then with a sad look, he added, “I'll take you to the airport.” But after breakfast, they made love again, and had almost missed her plane by then. She could have made it if she'd leapt out of bed and dressed in a hurry, but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay. For a day, a week, the duration of his stay. Whatever it took. Maybe forever. And she said as much to him as they sat together in the bathtub.

“Will you stay?” he asked ever so gently, and when she nodded, he kissed her.

“All I have with me are cowboy boots and jeans, and about two proper city dresses.” She smiled at him and he looked happier than she'd ever seen him.

“You'll be all the rage in London. Do we have to have separate rooms?”

“No,” she said seriously, “but I still want to sell the apartment.” He thought it was a good idea too. It was time for them to move on, to heal, to find each other again, and with any luck at all, start over. He had every intention of making that happen, and he was grateful to her for letting him do it. He swore the nightmare of the past year would never happen again, and after all the talking they'd done, she believed him.

He said he wanted to take her out that afternoon, just for a walk, so he could be with her and talk to her, and remember how sweet it was to walk beside her. But he had to stop at his office first. He had promised his secretary when he called that he'd sign some papers. And Mary Stuart had said she would meet him in the lobby.

She dressed quietly, thinking of him, and the time they had shared, and she jotted the note with shaking hands once she was dressed. She was wearing a brown linen dress, which was the only other respectable dress she had brought to London, and her hair wasn't as neat as usual. She looked younger ad just a little bit disheveled. She had already told Bill that if she stayed, she had to go shopping. But she wasn't thinking of that now, she was thinking of him, the man who had ridden through the wildflowers with her in Wyoming.

She went downstairs and spoke to the concierge, and he said it was no problem to send it for her, although he reminded her that her husband had a private fax already set up in his office. But she preferred to do it with the concierge, she explained, and she gave him the fax number. She had written out two words, and her eyes filled with tears as she handed him the paper.

“It will go out immediately, madam,” he said, and she trembled at the pain it would cause, for both of them. But he had been wiser than she was. He had realized better than she had what might happen.

The paper said “Adieu, Arielle.” Nothing more. Just that. And she never mailed him her letter. There was no point now. That had been her promise to him. Just two words and no explanations.

“Ready for some air?” Bill asked when he came downstairs. He thought she seemed quiet again, and he was worried, and he saw when he looked at her that she'd been crying. They'd been in her room for nearly two days, but they had settled a lot of things, and he put his arms around her again right there in the lobby.

“It's okay, Stu… I swear it'll be all right… I love you.” But she hadn't been thinking of him. She'd been saying good-bye to a friend. And then, she took her husband's hand, and they walked out into the sunshine. The doorman watched them as they walked away, hand in hand, and he smiled. It was nice, and so rare, when you saw happy couples. Life seemed so easy for them. Or maybe they were just lucky.

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FROM

DANIELLE STEEL

On Sale in Hardcover

June 27, 2006

COMING OUT

Olympia Crawford Rubinstein has a way of managing her thriving family with grace and humor. With twin daughters finishing high school, a son at Dartmouth, and a kindergartener from her second marriage, there seems to be nothing Olympia can't handle… until one sunny day in May, when she opens an invitation for her daughters to attend the most exclusive coming out ball in New York—and chaos erupts all around her…

From a son's crisis to a daughter's heartbreak, from a case of the chickenpox to a political debate raging in her household, Olympia is on the verge of surrender… until a series of startling choices and changes of heart, family and friends turn a night of calamity into an evening of magic. As old wounds are healed, barriers are shattered and new traditions are born, and a debutante ball becomes a catalyst for change, revelation, acceptance, and love.