achieve success if he worked hard enough. In a dark corner of his mind he had harbored the thought that God had turned his back on him. It was an unreasonable belief, and it had taken root right after his leg had been nearly destroyed. He remembered hearing the physician whisper the need to amputate the limb-remembered, too, his friend's vehement refusal. Nathan wouldn't let Sir Winters touch the leg, but Colin had still been so damned afraid to sleep for fear that when he awakened he wouldn't be whole again.
The leg had survived, but the constant pain he now lived with made the victory hollow indeed.
Miracles were for other people, Colin had always believed-until Alesandra came into his life. His princess actually loved him. In his heart he knew there weren't any restrictions or conditions surrounding her love. Had she met a man with only one leg, she would have loved him just as much. He would have gained her sympathy, perhaps, but certainly not her pity. Her every action showed her strength and her determination to take care of him.
She would always be there for him, nagging him and arguing with him-and loving him no matter what.
And that, Colin decided, was definitely a miracle.
God hadn't forgotten him after all.
She wanted to leave him. Alesandra knew she wasn't being reasonable, but she was so upset inside she could barely think what to do. Nathan's casual remark about how he and Colin had both counted on Sara's inheritance to help their shipping company played on her mind until she was ready to weep.
Colin, she decided, had rejected her on every level possible. He didn't want her to help him with his company books, he didn't want her inheritance, and he didn't particularly want-or need-her love. His heart seemed to be surrounded by shields, and Alesandra didn't believe she would ever be able to get him to love her.
She knew she was being pitiful. She didn't care. Mother Superior's letter had arrived that morning, and Alesandra had already read the thing at least a dozen times.
She wanted to go home. She was so horribly homesick for the nuns and the land, she burst into tears. It was quite all right, she decided. She was alone, after all, and Colin was working in his study with the door closed. He wouldn't hear her.
Dear God, she wished she wasn't so emotional these days. She couldn't seem to apply logic to anything. She stood at the window in her robe and gown, looking out, and her mind was so engrossed with her worries she didn't even hear the door open.
'What is it, sweetheart? Don't you feel well?'
Colin's voice was filled with concern. She took a deep, calming breath and turned to look at him.
'I would like to go home.'
He hadn't been prepared for that request. He looked quite astonished. He was quick to recover. He shut the door behind him and walked toward her.
'You are home.'
She wanted to argue with him. She didn't. 'Yes, of course,' she agreed. 'But I would like your permission to go back to Holy Cross for a visit. The convent is just a walk away from Stone Haven, and I would like to see my parents' home again.'
Colin walked over to her writing desk. 'What is this really all about?' he asked her. He leaned against the edge of the table while he waited for her to answer him.
'I received a letter from Mother Superior today, and I'm suddenly very homesick.'
Colin didn't show any outward reaction to her plea. 'I can't take the time right now to…'
'Stefan and Raymond would go with me,' she interrupted. 'I don't expect you to go along. I know how busy you are.'
He could feel himself getting angry. The very idea of his wife leaving on such a journey without him at her side appalled him. He stopped himself from immediately denying her request, however, because in truth he had never seen her this upset. It worried the hell out of him, given her delicate condition.
She was out of her mind if she thought he would ever let her go anywhere without him. He didn't tell her that opinion either.
He decided to use reason to make her understand. 'Alesandra…'
'Colin, you don't need me.'
He was taken aback by that absurd comment. 'The hell I don't need you,' he countered in a near shout.
She shook her head. He nodded. Then she turned her back on him.
'You have never needed me,' she whispered.
'Alesandra, sit down.'
'I don't wish to sit down.'
'I want to talk to you about this…' He almost said he wanted to talk to her about her 'ridiculous notion,' but he caught himself in time.
She ignored him and continued to stare out the window.
He noticed the stack of papers on her desk and suddenly knew what he was going to do. He quickly sorted through her lists until he found the one with his name on the top.
She wasn't paying any attention to him. He folded the sheet in half and tucked it in his pocket. Then he ordered her to sit down again. His voice was harder, more insistent.
She took her time obeying. She mopped the tears away from her face with the backs of her hands and finally walked over to the side of the bed. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, and bowed her head.
'Have you suddenly stopped loving me?'
He hadn't been able to keep the worry out of his voice. She was so surprised by his question, she looked up at him. 'No, of course I haven't stopped loving you.'
He nodded, both pleased and relieved to hear her fervent answer. Then he straightened away from the desk and walked over to stand in front of her.
'There isn't any Uncle Albert, is there?'
The switch in topic confused her. 'What does Albert have to do with my request to go home?'
'Damn it, this is your home,' he countered.
She lowered her head again. He immediately regretted the burst of anger and took a breath to calm himself. 'Bear with me for just a moment, Alesandra, and answer my question.'
She debated telling him the truth for a long minute. 'No, there isn't any Uncle Albert.'
'I didn't think so.'
'Why didn't you think so?'
'There were never any letters delivered here from the man, yet I heard you tell Caine you'd received a missive. You made him up, and I think I know why.'
'I really don't wish to talk about this. I find I'm weary tonight. It's quite late, almost ten.'
He wasn't about to let her run away from this discussion. 'You had a four-hour nap today,' he reminded her.
'I was catching up on my sleep,' she announced.
'Dreyson wouldn't take stock orders from a woman, would he? So you invented Albert, a convenient recluse who just happened to have your same initials.'
She wasn't going to argue with him. 'Yes.'
He nodded again. He clasped his hands behind his back and frowned down at her. 'You hide your intelligence, don't you, Alesandra? You obviously have a knack for the market, but instead of boasting about your cleverness with investments, you invented another man to take the credit.'
She looked up at him so he could see her frown. 'Men listen to other men,' she announced. 'It isn't acceptable for a woman to have such interests. It isn't considered ladylike. And it isn't a knack, Colin. I read the journals and listen to Dreyson's suggestions. It doesn't take a brilliant mind to be guided by his advice.'
'Will you agree you're at least fairly intelligent and can reason most things through logically?'
She wondered where in heaven's name this discussion was leading. Her husband was acting terribly uncomfortable. She couldn't imagine why.
'Yes,' she answered. 'I will agree I'm fairly intelligent.'
'Then why in God's name haven't you been able to reason through all the obvious facts and figure out that I love you?'
Her eyes widened and she leaned back. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but she couldn't
