The Millionaire Comes Home by Mary Lynn Baxter

Author:Mary Lynn Baxter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2001-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

She hated crying.

More than that, she hated feeling that awful sense of impending doom hovering over her like a dark cloud. She had tried to sleep, but couldn’t. So instead of continuing to fight the bed, especially the pillow, she got up and made her way downstairs in the wee hours of the morning, hoping a glass of hot milk would stave off an attack.

She had just taken her cup out of the microwave when her hand began to shake, slopping the liquid all over the floor. But the mess was the least of her worries as her heart began to race off the charts, her breathing became labored, and her head spun.

She was having a full-blown anxiety attack, something she hadn’t had in a long time. Giving in to the tears that ran down her face, she groped for the cabinet where she kept spare medication. Once she’d swallowed a tiny pill, she clung to the counter and waited for the room to settle.

“Grace, what the hell?”

Oh, dear Lord, not him, not the reason for her attack in flesh and blood.

“Go away, Denton,” she whispered, between sobs. “You seem to have a talent for showing up at the wrong place.”

“And at the wrong time,” he added in a defeated voice.

“That’s…right,” she whispered, beginning to shake again.

“Grace, let me help,” he pleaded. “You’re ill. Even I can see that.”

“No!” she cried. “I’m having an anxiety attack.” Rarely did she share that secret with anyone. In fact, she kept it closely guarded, hating that weakness in herself. That was why she couldn’t believe she’d just blurted it out, to him of all people, especially since she blamed him for bringing it on.

Denton suddenly closed the distance between them, and before she could get out of harm’s way, he placed his hands on her forearms and drew her gently against him.

“Please, let me hold you,” he said in a thick, tortured voice.

Heaven on earth was the thought that went through her mind. For the first time since the attack had rendered her useless, she felt safe, cocooned in a secure warmth that only his arms could provide.

Fool! she lambasted herself.

“Grace, Grace,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” He then ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

She couldn’t speak; all she could do was cling to him.

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