Chapter 1
The nightmare was insidious, seeping into his soul and encompassing everything inside him. It was different this time. Usually, he would be on an island, happy and contented with Lizzie and his son, a well-rounded family, vacationing, having fun. Then the storm would strike out of nowhere, sweeping her along in its vicious wake. He would be just standing there, helpless, hands tied, frozen to the spot and unable to react, to save her. Until it was too late.
She was gone, just like that, his happiness and his heart torn to shreds. The room with all its machines beeping felt like a death knell ringing inside his head. He could clearly see the doctors and nurses working feverishly and felt her life seeping out of her.
She was gone, just like that. The woman he loved was gone. She had died bringing their son into the world. The blood. All that blood. It was the tears on his cheeks that jarred him awake. Lifting his head off the pillows, he scrubbed his hands over his face to try and get rid of the moisture as well as the fatigue.
"Jesus Christ!" The cry was agonized, the grief so fresh, it felt as if he was being ripped apart by it. Dragging restless fingers through his disheveled, ink-black hair, he gave a start when he heard noises coming from the monitor.
Taking the time to grab a robe to cover his nakedness, he raced from his room and down the hallway into his son's suite.
"David?" Slowing his steps when he saw the boy sitting up in bed, he studied the tear-streaked face and felt the familiar pang. It was like looking in a mirror. His son had inherited everything including the dent in his chin. His ink-black hair was sleep-tousled, gray eyes bright with tears.
"Daddy." His lower lip trembled as he rubbed his hands over his eyes.
"I'm here, buddy. Nightmare?"
The boy shook his head. "I had an accident."
"Oh." Understanding perfectly, Vincent crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
"What happened?" he asked gently, brushing the curls from off his forehead.
"I was at the lake."
"That would do it," Vincent told him with a grin. "Why don't we go and clean you up?"
"You won't tell Mrs. Paddy?" he asked, referring to their stern and beloved housekeeper.
"Not a word." The boy was assured. Scooping him into his arms, Vincent carried him into the bathroom where he did the necessary tidying up and put on fresh pjs.
"Can I have the Spider-Man?"
"The wall crawler it is."
When he had finished doing the necessary, including changing the sheets and dumping everything into the hamper, Vincent tucked him in and sat down.
"Will you read me a story, Daddy?" he asked hopefully, sliding down on the pillows, his eyelids already drooping.
"Just part of one. Daddy needs his sleep and so do you." Rising, he went to pluck a book about dinosaurs from the bookshelf.
He was halfway through the story about a boy who lost his tooth when he noticed his son was out for the count.
Putting the book on the teal blue side table, Vincent pulled the sheets more securely around him and just sat there staring at the boy. It surprised and gratified him that he had never held one ounce of regret where David was concerned. He had lost the woman he had hoped to spend the rest of his life with, but he loved his son.
After the tearing grief that had ripped through him like sharp blades, he had held the tiny baby in his arms and fallen fast and hard. This was his flesh and blood, this was the sacrifice Lizzie had made, the product of what she had gone through. At first he had been tempted to just curl up and give in to the pain of the loss. But he had David to think about, and his mother and sister had stood by him. They were towers of strength that had made it possible for him to rise up and go on living. On top of everything, he had his company to run. A company that had been passed down to him from his dad.
Work and building that company into one of the most successful and diversified businesses in the world had dulled the pain. Then there was his son. A smile hovered around his lips, softening the harsh lines of his face as he continued to stare at the boy. He had turned six in June. That was two months ago, and he was growing like a weed. He was a happy child, one who brought joy into their lives.
He could lash out at fate and God for taking her away from him, but he was grateful for his son. Touching the boy's soft cheek lightly, he bent over to kiss him before getting up. Leaving the night light on and making sure the monitor was on, he left the room and half closed the door behind him. Mrs. Paddy, their housekeeper, had her quarters downstairs, which was an arrangement that suited both of them.
Whenever he had to travel for business, she would stay in one of the guest rooms upstairs to be present for David.
"Is everything all right?"
He should have known she would be up and wondering what was going on. He could not fault the woman for being dedicated and to her credit, she might be stern, but she adored his son. For that alone, she had his respect and appreciation.
"David had an accident." A slight smile touched his stern lips as he stared down at the woman at the foot of the stairs. "He's embarrassed and doesn't want you to know about it."
