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fingers itching again to make
stinging contact with his cheek. She ached to wipe that mocking,
sardonic expression right off his face. Yet, she didn't dare slap him.
This was a hospital after all, not exactly the place to start a fist
fight. Besides, she suspected that if she ever struck Raul, retaliation
would come swiftly and with such vengeance that she shuddered now with
the very thought of what he might do to her. Oh, but she longed to hit
him though, to flail at his chest with her fists for his mocking and
supercilious attitude. And apparently her desire to do him some bodily
harm revealed itself in her eyes.
    "Don't do anything you'll regret," he warned, his voice a
low growl from deep in his throat, his eyes like glittering green ice.
"Now, try acting your age for once and go in there and make Will feel
like he's a little bit important to you."
    Vehement protest trembled on Juliet's lips but she had no
time to voice her indignation. As Raul pushed open the door and his
hand pressed against the small of her back, impelling her forward, she
had no choice except to move into the room. She glanced back over her
shoulder, her expression reproachful yet uncertain too. "Aren't you
coming in with me?"
    Raul shook his head. "You can only stay five minutes and
Will wants to see you alone. I'll wait out here for you but just
remember what I said. Don't do anything to upset him."
    "I got your message the first time, lord and master,"
Juliet whispered recklessly. "You don't have to repeat yourself." And
with a rebellious uptilting of her chin, she left him in the doorway.
    Will McKay's private room was as quietly elegant as the
reception area had been. Apricot draperies of silk covered a wide
window and complemented the cream-colored walls and the furniture which
was upholstered in natural earth tones. Juliet tiptoed into the room,
approaching the bed with a concerned smile trembling on her lips and
when her uncle turned his head on his pillow to return her smile, tears
filled her eyes. Raul was right. Uncle Will had changed. There seemed
to be more gray streaks in his thinning light brown hair and the lines
on his face had deepened. To Juliet, he looked ten years older than he
had last June and there was a fragility about him that nearly caused
her to burst into tears. Yet, knowing she would upset him terribly by
crying, she controlled her emotions and immediately took the thin
blue-veined hand he extended to her.
    "You've lost weight," was his first comment.
    "Only a few pounds," she answered, relieved to see that
his blue eyes were alert and appraising as they swept over her.
"Besides, you're thinner too so don't fuss at me when you've obviously
lost more weight than I have."
    Her teasing tone elicited a grin. "I can afford to lose
weight. I'm an old man."
    "What nonsense. You're only as old as you feel and you
always told me you felt like a teenager."
    "So I did," Will McKay replied, his grin beginning to
fade. His thin fingers plucked at the crisp white sheet that covered
him. "But lately my age has been catching up with me. I don't feel so
young anymore. But I think maybe I've just been missing you."
    With a muffled sob, Juliet bent down to kiss his lined
cheek. "Oh, Uncle Will, I've missed you too."
    As she straightened again, Will caught one small hand
between both his and patted it gently. "Why did you run away with that
unkempt singer, child? I just don't understand why you did it."
    "Oh, let's not talk about that now," she murmured hastily.
This was definitely not the time or place to argue with him about their
lack of agreement regarding arranged marriages, so she lifted her
shoulders in a slight shrug instead. "I just needed to get away, that's
all."
    Will grimaced as he shifted his position as much as was
possible with his right leg suspended in traction. Then his eyes met
hers again and he indicated with a sweep of his hand that she should
sit down on the chair by his bed. "Well, tell me, are you
and—that young man