Ryan's Hand Read Online Free PDF

Ferrari seemed to be waiting for her, as if it had expected her return. Cara fumbled in her purse for the key to the town house that Ryan had insisted she have. She let herself in, listening. Then she walked to the door of Ryan’s bedroom. A band of moonlight, like a mask, lay across his eyes. They were open and observed her standing in the doorway without surprise or alarm. The rest of his face was in shadow. “Hello again,” he said softly, and Cara thought he smiled in the darkness. “Why did you come back?”
    “You know why, Ryan.”
    “And why is that, love?”
    “I know how ill you are, Ryan. It’s terminal, isn’t it?” Her entire being pleaded with him to deny it, but the answering silence confirmed what she dreaded. “How much more time?” she asked, but her knees had turned to water.
    “Not much. I’m living on the borrowed end of it.”
    Incredulous, Cara walked to the bed and gaped down at the handsome, gaunt face. “It can’t be,” she whispered, but the unblinking blue eyes stared the truth back at her, and the bottom fell from her heart. “Ryan…” She knelt beside the bed, next to his pillowed head. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
    When he did not reply, tears slowly welled in her disbelieving eyes and began to slip unchecked down her cheeks. “Ah, love…” Ryan consoled her, drawing the golden head down to the thin hollow of his shoulder. In silence, his cheek against her hair, he held her until the first bitter wave of sobbing had ceased. Then she pulled back to look at him, her breathing erratic in the aftermath of grief. “I’m—not—leaving you, Ryan!”
    “That’s comforting to know. There’s a set of pj’s in my armoire, and I think you’ll find an unused toothbrush in the medicine chest. I always keep a few on hand for…er…”
    “I know, Ryan. They must think it awfully thoughtful of you.” She rose on unsteady legs. “I won’t be a minute.”
    When Cara was ready for bed, she came once again to his doorway. “I don’t want to go to the guest room, Ryan.” She spoke obstinately, like the child she appeared in the baggy blue pajamas, her cheeks red from the salt of sea wind and tears, her long golden hair loose about her shoulders.
    Ryan studied her without expression for a long moment; then his mouth softened in a slight smile. “Come here, then, Puritan,” he said, throwing back the covers on the other side of his bed. Immediately she went and crawled in beside him, snuggling close and wrapping her arms in desperate protection around him, as if to imbue his body with the health that flowed in her own. Cradled together, Ryan drifted into a peaceful sleep but Cara lay awake and vigilant throughout the long night, listening to the distant sound of the Atlantic and the precious beat of his heart.
    The next morning she rose and dressed before Ryan was awake. When he awoke, she had hot tea ready, which she served to him in bed. “I’ve called the library to say I won’t be in today,” she informed him. “Is that all right with you?”
    “Need you ask?” He sipped his tea. “Thanks for helping me make it through the night.”
    “Like the song says,” she said simply.
    “Well, not quite, Puritan.” He laughed when he saw her blush. “This relationship of ours is really something. Who would ever believe that I slept in the arms of the most beautiful woman in Boston and nothing happened?”
    “Oh, Ryan!” Cara fussed. “Your fondness for me has affected your objectivity. I’m not in the least beautiful.”
    “You’ve just forgotten you are. You probably haven’t really looked at yourself in years.”
    “There’s no reason to. I can’t afford cosmetics and clothes, and my job doesn’t require them. Someday I’ll be in a position to let my appearance matter again.”
    “But I want your appearance to matter now, Cara. Do something for me?”
    Cara looked at him curiously, realizing he was serious. “Why, of course, anything.”
    “I would like