The Promise by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

could. Was she … was she pretty before?”
    “I suppose so. I don't know. We'd never met.” Her tone was rock hard, and her eyes equally so.
    “I see. In any case, she's in for some tough realities. They'll do what they can here at the hospital when she's a little more recovered, but it won't be much. Does she have money?”
    “None.” Marion spoke the word like a death sentence. It was the worst thing she could say of anyone.
    “Then she won't have many alternatives. I'm afraid the men who do this kind of thing don't do it for charity.”
    “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”
    “Well, I know some of the names. Two, actually. The best one is out in San Francisco.” A little fire kindled in Dr. Wickfield's heart With all her money, Marion Hillyard could … if only … “His name is Peter Gregson. We met several years ago. He's really an amazing guy.”
    “Could he do this?”
    Wickfield felt a rush of admiration for the woman. He almost wanted to hug her, but he didn't dare. “He may well be the only man who could. Shall I… do you want me to call him?” He hesitated to say the words, and then she looked at him with those cold, calculating eyes and he wondered what she had in mind. The wave of admiration almost turned to fear.
    “I'll let you know.”
    “Fine.” He looked at his watch then, and stood up.
    “I'd like you to go downstairs and rest now. I really mean that.”
    “I know.” She favored him with a wintry smile. “But I'm not going to. You know that too. I have to be with Michael.”
    “Even if you kill yourself doing it?”
    “I won't. I'm too mean to die, Wicky. Besides, I still have a lot of work to do.”
    “Is it worth it?” He looked at her curiously for a moment. If he had had one tenth of her ambition, he would have been a great surgeon, but he didn't and he wasn't. And he wasn't even sure that he envied her. “Is it worth it?” He said it more softly the second time, and she nodded.
    “Absolutely. Don't ever doubt it for a second. It's given me everything I want out of life.” Unless I lose Michael. She closed her eyes and pushed away the thought.
    “Well, I'll give you another hour with him, and then I'm coming back up here. And I don't care if I have to shoot you with Nembutal and drag you away myself, you're going. Is that dear?”
    “Very.” She stood up, dropped another cigarette to the floor where she crushed it, and patted his cheek. “And Wicky—” She looked up at him from under long chestnut lashes, and for a moment she was all softness and elegant beauty. “—thank you.” He gently kissed her cheek, squeezed her arm, and stood back for a moment.
    “He'll be all right, Marion, you'll see.” He didn't dare mention the girl again. They could talk about that later. He only smiled and walked away, as she stood there looking vulnerable and alone. He was glad he had called George Calloway a few hours before. Marion needed someone with her. He thought about her all the way down the corridor, as she stood watching him go. She hadn't moved from the spot where he had left her, and then slowly, she began the lonely walk up the hall, back towards Michael's room, past open doors and closed ones, heartbreaks to come and hopes never to be known again. And a few who would make it. This was a floor set aside for the critically ill, and there was no sound from any of the rooms as she walked slowly by, until she was halfway down the hall, where she heard little jerking sobs come from an open door. The sounds were so soft that at first she wasn't sure what she was hearing. And then she saw the room number, and she knew. She stopped as though she had come to a wall, staring at the door, and the darkness beyond.
    She could see the bed dimly outlined in the comer, but the room was dark; all blinds and curtains had been drawn, as though the patient could not be touched by light. Marion stood there for a long moment, afraid to go in, but knowing that she had to; and then