Love is Eternal Read online

  She hurried up to her flat, and only as she closed the door behind her did she realise exactly what his order would entail. He would be coming up to her flat; her drab, sparsely furnished flat of which she was beginning to feel more than a little ashamed. What would he think? A man like Dr. Daniel Grant, always so immaculate, and so obviously wealthy, had no place in her drab little world, and she had even less right to expect him to sit down and have a meal with her.

  ‘Oh, lord,’ she thought, removing her starched cap and taking the pins from her hair to let it fall loosely about her shoulders. ‘I shall die of shame when he walks in here. ’ Pulling herself together with an effort she went through to the bathroom to wash and change into a cool summer frock, the floral design brightening her appearance considerably. It would not take Daniel Grant long to discover how right she had been about his mission being unsuccessful, she thought as she pulled a comb through her golden-brown hair and applied fresh make-up. He would soon be back, and the sandwiches he had ordered had better be ready, or it would

  put the seal on her embarrassment.

  Less than an hour later she opened the door to Daniel Grant, the colour coming and going from her face as he stepped inside and swept the interior with nothing more than a perfunctory glance before he settled himself in the most comfortable chair, and stretched out his long legs.

  ‘What’s the verdict?’ Joanne asked, finding her voice at last.

  ‘I refuse to talk on an empty stomach,’ he said abruptly, closing his eyes and signifying that he was awaiting the sandwiches he had ordered.

  Smothering an exasperated sigh, Joanne went through to the kitchen and poured the coffee, placing it on a tray with the sandwiches before taking it through to the lounge. He opened his eyes as she placed the tray on a small table in front of him and, smiling briefly, he helped himself to the ham and tomato sandwiches.

  ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ he asked in surprise as she sat sipping at her coffee.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Nonsense! You’re far too thin, and you need to keep up your strength. ’

  An involuntary smile plucked at her lips. ‘Do I need strength to hear the result of the interview you had with my aunt?’

  ‘You’ll need your strength for the operating theatre tomorrow,’ he said briskly, biting into his third sandwich. ‘I shall be watching you like a hawk tomorrow, so watch your step, Sister Webster.’

  Reluctantly, Joanne helped herself to a sandwich, but after the first bite she realised how hungry she actually was, and Daniel Grant watched with satisfaction as she helped herself to a second and a third.

  Replenished and pleasantly tired, she placed her empty cup beside his on the tray and leaned back in her chair, crossing one beautifully shaped leg over the other. It had not been such an ordeal having him there after all, for he never gave the slightest sign that his surroundings irked him in any way. He had accepted her home for what it was, and she was grateful to him for that.

  ‘You have beautiful hair, Joanne Webster.’

  Her lashes flew up to reveal startled eyes that became shaded with embarrassment. ‘I—thank you, Dr. Grant.’

  ‘Did you know that it flashes gold in the sunlight?’ he asked, lighting a cigarette and narrowing his eyes against the screen of smoke.

  Was he flirting with her? she wondered frantically. No, it could not be possible, but it gave her a strange feeling to know that Dr. Daniel Grant, one of the most eminent plastic surgeons in the country, had observed her long enough to notice the colour of her hair.

  ‘What did my aunt have to say when you approached her on my behalf, Dr. Grant?’ she counter-questioned, directing the conversation on to safer ground.

  ‘I’m afraid that she was adamant about not continuing with the loan,’ he said abruptly, his expression hardening. ‘I’ve seldom met such a singularly selfish person in my life, but I made her understand very clearly that I was there against your wishes, and I left her in no doubt as to what I thought of her.’

  Joanne held her breath, afraid to ask for details, and ashamed that Daniel Grant had had to go through that experience with Irene Webster. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry that I told her what I thought of her?’

  ‘No,’ she lowered her glance to the threadbare carpet. ‘I’m sorry you had to suffer such an unpleasant experience on my behalf. ’

  The silence weighed heavily between them, then Daniel Grant extinguished his cigarette with a thoughtful expression in his disturbing blue eyes.

  ‘I’ve given this matter quite a lot of thought on the drive to and from your aunt’s house,’ he began, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbing his chin thoughtfully with one of those slender, capable hands. ‘I have a proposition to make, one which I think will not only solve your problem, but mine as well.’

  ‘I don’t think I understand, Dr. Grant,’ Joanne said hesitantly, finding it difficult to think of a man in his position having problems that could equal the seriousness of her own.

  Daniel Grant’s glance flickered over her, settling finally on the nervous little pulse that fluttered at the base of her slender, graceful throat. ‘I shall pay your brother’s university fees.’

  Joanne sucked her breath in sharply. ‘I’m not aware that I’ve asked you for a loan, Dr. Grant.’

  ‘I wasn’t offering you a loan, Sister Webster,’ he contradicted harshly. ‘I’m offering to pay for your brother’s expenses in order to set your mind at ease, and in exchange for that you could do something for me to alleviate the problem I’ve wrestled with over the past weeks.’

  A warning flashed through her mind, but she ignored it for the moment. ‘In what way could I help you, Dr. Grant?’

  ‘You could marry me.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘You could marry me,’ he had said, and Joanne reeled mentally under the impact as she stared at him in stunned silence. She could not possibly have heard correctly. But yes, she had, and Daniel Grant was waiting for some sort of reply to his shattering request.

  ‘You can’t be serious, Dr. Grant,’ she managed eventually, her mouth so dry that she thought the saliva had dried up permanently.

  ‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,’ he assured her in his abrupt fashion, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Joanne’s colour returned slowly. ‘But you can’t want to marry me! You hardly know me at all, and besides, I—we don’t—’

  ‘Love each other?’ he filled in ruthlessly for her, watching the play of colour on her cheeks as she lowered her embarrassed glance. ‘Love doesn’t enter into this arrangement at all. Love is a fabricated emotion I have no time for in my life. It’s a word used in place of desire because people consider that it sounds more decent. But rest assured, I don’t desire you, Joanne Webster. What I’m offering you will be purely and simply a business arrangement which will last no longer than a year. ’

  If someone had placed a gun at her head and demanded that she should explain her feelings at that moment, she would not have been able to. She felt numb to her very fingertips, and curiously as if she had been reduced to the insignificant carpet beneath his expensive leather shoes.

  ‘Perhaps if you explained,’ she said in a voice barely above a whisper as her wide and troubled glance met his. ‘My mother is dying of cancer,’ he said without preamble, and with a new harshness in his voice that told her how deeply it affected him. ‘There’s nothing more we can do for her except try to alleviate the pain as much as possible. She has, at the most, a year to live, but I doubt it very much in the face of her rapid deterioration over the past two months. My mother, like most mothers, I suppose, has the desire to see me married before she dies, and lately it’s become almost an obsession with her that I should find the right woman and settle down. ’

  ‘And you want me to marry you in order to set your mother’s mind at rest,’ she put in, grasping the situation suddenly. ‘But it would mean we would have to
lie to her.’

  Daniel’s lips tightened. ‘I would go to any lengths to ensure that her last few months on earth are happy. ’

  ‘You must love her very much.’

  A flicker of a smile touched his lips. ‘I care for her very deeply, which doesn’t quite mean the same thing. ’

  Joanne rose from her chair and paced about restlessly, clasping her arms about her as if she was afraid she would come apart. ‘If I—if I married you, and—and after a few months your mother passed away, what then?’

  ‘Our marriage will be annulled and I shall continue to pay your brother’s university fees until he graduates,’ he hesitated abruptly, adding: ‘Without demanding repayment.’

  It sounded tempting, but it was a tremendous decision to have to make. It involved not only Bruce’s future but her own, and she was not sure that she could enter into a loveless marriage with Daniel Grant without being hurt in the process.

  ‘Would you give me a little time to think about it?’ she asked after a lengthy pause, stopping beside his chair.

  ‘How much time do you want?’ he demanded with a hint of impatience in his glance.

  ‘Could I give you your answer tomorrow?’

  Daniel Grant rose abruptly and Joanne, tall herself, found she had to raise her head considerably to meet his glance.

  ‘I shall be operating at eleven tomorrow morning. Give me your answer when the operation is over and done with.’ He strode towards the door in his usual abrupt fashion, then turned, his hand on the door-knob. ‘Thanks for the sandwiches.’

  The door closed behind him and Joanne dropped into the chair he had just vacated, the warm impression left by his body suggesting a certain intimacy that made her rise swiftly and remove the tray to the kitchen.

  Sleep evaded her that night as she lay pondering his proposal. It was strange that she had never thought of him as someone who might have a loving parent tucked away somewhere, but then she knew very little about him and the way he lived outside the confining walls of the hospital. He seldom attended the hospital functions, and she still recalled her astonishment when he arrived unexpectedly at the last Christmas ball. He had joined Matron at her table and had danced a slow waltz with her. Then, to Joanne’s amazement, she had seen him bearing down upon her from the other end of the hall, and there had been no escape from the hands which had pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

  He had danced well, and she had followed him perfectly, but when the dance ended he thanked her politely, only to disappear from the ball as suddenly as he had arrived. He was the strangest man she had ever met, Joanne had concluded, and she still thought so, but she never dreamt that he would one day come to her with such an outrageous proposal of marriage.

  Marriage! The word struck a discordant note in her mind. How could she marry him and take those sacred vows with the knowledge that she was about to live a lie? It was contrary to all that she had hoped for and everything she had dreamed of in her twenty-four years. Every woman wanted a husband, a home, and children, so why should she be any different? She needed to love and be loved just as much as anyone else, but this marriage to Dr. Daniel Grant had nothing to do with the usual reasons concerning such a union. It would be a business arrangement; a contract that would be signed and annulled soon after his mother’s death, and for this service he would make Bruce’s dreams possible.

  ‘But what about my dreams?’ she wondered, groaning inwardly. She could not do it, she told herself, but deep down she knew that she had no choice. Bruce’s future lay wrapped up in her decision, and she could not let him down.

  ‘You’ll move heaven and earth to help me, but don’t do anything foolish,’ she recalled Bruce’s parting shot, and here she was contemplating marriage to a man she knew only slightly for her brother’s sake.

  There was nothing really very complicated about Daniel Grant’s suggestion, she told herself dispassionately as she stared into the darkness. It would be a business arrangement that would legally bind her to him for a few months until the contract was fulfilled, then she would be able to walk away a free woman, and with the knowledge that her brother would never need to look elsewhere for funds.

  She was reasoning in circles, she knew. Her heart might reject the idea, but her mind had accepted irrevocably the proposal which had been put to her. All that remained was for her to give Daniel Grant his answer; the answer that would solve his problem, and her own.

  Joanne glanced critically about the theatre. Dr. Grant’s patient would be the next to be brought in, and everything had to be in perfect order when Dr. Grant walked in to begin the operation. There was to be no repetition of the incidents which had occurred the day before, Joanne realised, shutting her mind to everything except her work.

  Daniel Grant was punctual, as usual, and he strode into the theatre at precisely eleven o’clock, but there was nothing in his manner towards Joanne that gave any indication of what had occurred between them the previous day. He was his usual abrupt self, which made it easy for Joanne to follow suit and, from the moment she slapped the first instrument into his palm, her mind was solely on her job.

  She watched with fascinated admiration as those clever hands performed the intricate task of restoring a woman’s badly scarred features, marvelling at the steadiness of his fingers as he stood for hours, tirelessly remodelling a nose and doing the necessary skin grafts. When the operation was finally over she knew, without being told, that he had notched up another success.

  ‘I’ve ordered tea to be sent to my office, Dr. Grant,’ Joanne told him as he pulled down his mask and removed his surgical gloves, her glance lingering on his hands as he flexed those slender fingers to ease away the stiffness after the hours of surgery.

  ‘Right,’ he said without glancing up. ‘Give me five minutes.’ Now that the moment had come, Joanne was nervous and apprehensive, doubting her decision and wishing herself a million kilometres away. It was too late, however, to change her mind, for the tea she had ordered arrived moments before Dr. Grant, immaculate in his grey suit which accentuated his muscular slimness, entered her office.

  Joanne marvelled at the steadiness of her hands as she poured the tea and passed him his cup, but Daniel Grant seemed quite unperturbed as he lowered himself on to the edge of her desk and drank his tea. He was a man of few words, and his silence had never troubled her before, but on this occasion she searched frantically for something to say; something to postpone the moment when she would have to give him the answer he was waiting for.

  He must have sensed her discomfiture, for he brought matters to a head abruptly by saying, ‘Let’s get it over with, Sister Webster. What have you decided?’

  She placed her cup and saucer carefully on the desk before her, swallowing nervously. ‘Dr. Grant, I—’

  ‘Yes or no?’ he interrupted harshly.

  Their glances met and held, and Joanne heard herself say unsteadily, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, rising to his feet and placing his empty cup in the tray. ‘I’ll see you at seven-thirty this evening, then we can discuss the details. ’

  He was gone before Joanne could think of anything further to say, and she covered her face with her hands to stem her rising hysteria. She had just agreed to marry Dr. Daniel Grant, and all he could say was, ‘I’ll see you this evening, then we can discuss the details.’

  What had she expected? she wondered, pulling herself together. This was no ordinary marriage they were planning, and there was no excited flush of happiness at the thought of becoming his wife.

  His wife! The word shocked through her like an electric current. What had she done?

  Bruce’s face swam before her eyes, giving her her answer in no uncertain terms. She could not let him down. Not now, not ever!

  Daniel Grant arrived at her flat that evening at seven-thirty sharp, and he wasted no time in getting down to business.

  ‘Contrary to what you might have thought, Joanne, I don’t intend to rush you through a quick ceremony in
the Magistrate’s office. To make it seem authentic, we shall become engaged, and the wedding will take place in a church with all the usual nonsense. ’

  Joanne paled visibly. ‘You—you mean it’s to be a white wedding with a reception and—and everything?’

  His glance narrowed. ‘My mother wouldn’t settle for less than that.’

  ‘When is the wedding to be?’ she asked resignedly.

  ‘Three weeks from this coming Saturday. ’

  ‘So soon?’ the words were out before she could prevent them, and his angry glance made her shrink inwardly.

  ‘There isn’t time to waste,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’ll make all the necessary arrangements. All you have to do is hand in your resignation tomorrow, and buy yourself a wedding dress. ’

  Resigning from her profession was something she had not considered, and the thought filled her with obstinacy. ‘Must I

  resign? Surely I could go on working after we’re m-married?’

  Daniel Grant gestured impatiently. ‘It’s unethical for a husband and wife to continue working in such close proximity, and neither will I permit it. As my wife you will remain at home until there’s no longer a necessity for you to remain there.’

  She knew only too well that he was referring to the time when his mother would no longer be there, and she was filled with an intense curiosity to meet the woman Daniel Grant loved so deeply.

  ‘Now, as far as your brother is concerned,’ he interrupted her thoughts, ‘does he have a bank account anywhere?’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, giving him the name of the bank.

  Daniel jotted down the name. ‘I shall contact them tomorrow and make arrangements for a certain amount to be paid into his account twice yearly. You can explain to him where the money comes from, if you like, but I must ask you to keep the actual reason for our marriage to yourself. ’

  ‘I realise that, of course,’ Joanne admitted, staring down at her hands. ‘If Bruce ever found out that I was entering into a bogus marriage for his sake, he would never touch a cent of your money.’