Dear Genevieve,
One day youâll be old enough to ask where I was during those early months of your life after you were taken away from me. I want you to know that you were never out of my thoughts. Every time I saw a little girl around the right age, it tore me up inside. I never stopped looking for you or gave up hope of finding you.
When I finally did, my first sight of you gave me that lump-in-the-throat feeling you get when you see a perfect sunset, or hear âSilent Nightâ playing. Then your tiny hand crept into mine, and the waiting was over.
Thanks to Zoe, who took such good care of you while we were apart, Iâve heard about the milestones in your small life. I only pray I can share the big ones still ahead of you. If something should happen to me, youâll always have Zoe and the certainty that I loved you enough to find you and bring you home. Always remember you mean the world to me.
Love,
Dad
With twenty-five million copies of her books sold internationally, including many Waldenbooks bestsellers, itâs no wonder Valerie Parv is known as Australiaâs queen of romance and is the recognized media spokesperson for all things romantic.
Valerie lives in Australiaâs capital city of Canberra, where she is a volunteer zoo guide. She draws on this and other aspects of her life for many of her novels, having spent almost thirty-eight years happily married to her romantic hero, Paul. As she says, âLove gives you wingsâromance helps you fly.â
Bill Margolin gave a sigh of frustration but he should have known it would have no effect on his patient who kept his back turned and his gaze on the spectacular view of the Sydney Harbor beyond the plate-glass window.
It was a shame all his patients didnât keep themselves in such great shape, the doctor thought, watching the tall man shrug into his shirt. With what James was facing, heâd need every bit of his strength if he was to survive. Bill hated to be the bearer of bad news, but as a doctor as well as a friend he had to make James understand the risk he was taking.
A wry smile tugged at Billâs mouth. When had anyone ever made James Langford do anything? The man was the original immovable object, a goal-seeking missile who went over or around obstacles if he could, but through them if he had to. But generally they were business obstacles. There was no way he could go around this particular problem and it was Billâs job to convince him.
With another sigh he returned his attention to the X rays clipped to a lighted board in front of him. When they were students together there had been times when Bill would have killed to have a physique like his friend, to say nothing of Jamesâs fabled charm with womenâbut now wasnât one of those times. âYou canât put the operation off much longer,â he repeated in his most authoritative doctor-voice.
With decisive movements, James finished dressing then skewered his friend with a look of such blue-eyed intensity that it wasnât hard to see why women flocked around him. James had a knack of giving you his full attention, which made you feel as if you were the most important person in the world at that moment.
James swung a chair around and straddled it, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the back. âYou said the bullet hasnât moved since my last scan.â
âIt hasnât, but that doesnât mean it wonât. Itâs already pressing against a nerve in your spine, which is why youâre getting these blinding headaches.â
James gave him a rueful glance, massaging his left arm as if the memory was lodged there. âAnd the tingling and numbness in my arm. No need to remind me.â
âIf I donât, youâll keep putting off the operation until you keel over for good.â
James frowned. âAfter I got shot by that Middle Eastern fanatic who objected to foreigners working in his country, the doctors assured me operating to remove the bullet would do more harm than good.â
âBut that was before it started to move. Weâve been over this already, James. Surgery is your only option. I wish there was another way but there isnât. You have to let me schedule the operation.â
âSo you can kill me a lot sooner?â It was unfair taking this out on Bill, but right now he was the only target James had. All he needed was another three months, then the doctor could do what he had to and the outcome wouldnât matter so much.
âSo you can have a fighting chance to live.â The doctor ground out the words. âI know the operation is risky, but leaving the bullet alone until it paralyzes or kills you is a whole lot riskier.â
James flattened both palms against his friendâs desk and met his concerned gaze squarely. âThe bottom line, Bill. Will three months make that much difference?â