Diana Maitland looked at John Wayne as he sat staring at her beside him on the double chaise lounge after she had told him all about herself as a spoiled and teased little girl, and as an adolescent with low self-esteem, which had led to her infatuation with him. Ultimately, it had led to her love for him and her determination to come to Hollywood just for the chance to meet him. They were still wrapped in towels and sipping on wine; he was dragging slowly on a cigarette that was nearly gone, and she could see in his eyes that he was thinking about something, so she asked him what it was.
He frowned slightly as he took a last drag, then put his cigarette out in the ashtray, and looked down; then he picked up her left hand from where it was resting between them with his right hand and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. As he held onto her hand and continued to stare at it, he said softly, "I was just wishing that you hadn't been so unhappy and had such a low opinion of yourself as a young girl, and that I could make the pain of those memories go away for you. But, then I realized that if you hadn't had that experience growing up, then you probably would never have loved me and I would never have known you even existed. No matter what happens, little girl, I'll never regret knowing you and loving you," as he looked back up into her face with passionate sadness in his deep blue eyes.
Her heart nearly broke at the look in his eyes; he looked as though he had resigned himself to believe that she was not going to stay with him and, although he would go along with whatever she decided, he might not be happy about it, but he would never resent her for it. She already knew that if she walks away from him, she's going to regret it for the rest of her life. What the hell was she going to do? Tears welled in her eyes and she looked away from him quickly to try and hide them, but it was too late. He let go of her hand and lifted his to her chin to turn her face back toward him as a few of the tears rolled down her cheeks.
He rumbled softly, "I'm sorry, little girl, I don't want to make you cry. I just want you to know that my life will be better just because of you...just knowing there really was a soul mate for me, and I thank God that he finally brought you to me since I had stopped searching." More tears started to run down her cheeks, so he lowered his hand from her chin, set his glass of wine on the table by the chaise, then reached over to take her wine glass out of her shaking right hand and set it beside his. Then he put his right arm around her and pulled her over to lean against his chest as he encircled her in his arms and stroked her damp hair while she cried silently...he could feel her tears dripping on his chest and her body shaking slightly, but she was not making a sound.
She was breaking her own heart and she was even more afraid of breaking his; he'd said he'd never regret loving her, but she was afraid now that it really might cause him pain if she decided not to stay with him. Then a question popped into her mind that she hadn't thought about, and she wondered if he could answer it. She looked up at him, her eyes awash with tears, and she asked raggedly, "What made you think that you were in love with me?"
As he moved his left hand up to her face to wipe away some of her tears with his thumb, he stared into her eyes and said, "I started to feel something in the car on the way to the hotel. After you told me about how you had 'fantasized' about me all your life, and then I told you that I would never be able to do a love scene in a movie with you because it would be too realistic. Remember I said I hadn't even kissed you yet and that I was afraid when I started I would never be able to stop...I almost said 'ever' at the end of that sentence, but I wasn't sure how you'd take it. I thought that you just wanted me to fulfill your fantasies and that love wasn't part of the deal, and I didn't want to scare you away. Then, when I kissed you in the elevator and it felt as if I was...melting into you, I knew, but I wouldn't let myself think about it because I had no idea what would happen between us."
Her eyes widened as he told her this, and her tears stopped for the moment. Then he continued, "I realized you loved me when you told me about what that bastard did to you and how it had affected you, and I thought you had never been made love to properly—until you told me that I had, and that I did every time I looked at you...every time you heard my voice...every time I touched you." His voice was growing deeper and sexier as he continued, "I almost called you on it then, but you didn't come right out and say it, so I decided to leave it up to you to decide when, or if, you wanted to tell me. But, if you had never brought it up, then I would never have let you leave until I told you that I loved you and made you admit your love for me."
Then he bent his head down and kissed her fiercely, and she brought her right hand up and clutched at the back of his head and neck, kissing him back just as fiercely, as she elicited short, desperate moans. She was reeling from the realization that he had fallen in love with her way more quickly than she had with him; she'd had all those movies to watch and bios to read that had led her to develop a schoolgirl crush for him, and then fell harder for him as she got older. He hadn't really known anything at all about her, but he knew with their first kiss...he said it had "felt as if he was melting into her" and she had felt that way, too...but could he just be saying all this to make her feel better?
She still didn't understand how or why he had fallen for her...she had been shocked just to find that he desired her...but for him to love her? Where had that come from? She was nothing compared to him...he was a big star with renowned fame; a powerful man able to influence other powerful people in an industry that could chew up and spit out less powerful, yet talented actors. And yet, he was not respected for his talent, he was simply a man with a commanding presence that could dominate the movie screen and many people admired him just because of that...it was why she had fallen for him...but what the hell did he see in her? His desire for her she could understand—for some unknown reason, they had an incredible chemistry between them, but the fact that he loved her scared her...
When he lifted his head to look at her, she said huskily as the tears shimmered in her eyes, "I never believed my fantasies and dreams about you were meant to come true, and when it happened, it shocked me and...scares me. You see, the scary part about all of this for me is that, even in my own dreams and fantasies, you never loved me or needed me...you just desired me,...which was all I needed. I never imagined that you could love me...I'm no one special. What could you possibly have ever seen in me...?" as the tears started to fall from the corners of her eyes.
He had to close his eyes, he couldn't stand the emptiness he saw in her eyes; his guts twisted at the realization that she still couldn't see how beautiful she was...inside and out. She had lived with her fears and painful feelings of rejection for so long that she had cut herself off from ever letting anyone love her, and now she did not feel worthy of being loved.
He opened his eyes again to see that she had hers closed as tears continued to squeeze under her lashes. His heart was breaking; how would he ever be able to convince her that she is special and deserves to be loved if she doesn't believe she is? She was someone very special; his mission now was to make her see that she deserves to be loved...by him...or by any other man who was lucky enough to come in contact with her, unless they were a fool.
He used his thumb to wipe more tears from her right cheek, as he said gently, "Look at me, Diana." When she slowly opened her eyes with such a look of utter emptiness in their depths, he couldn't stop the mist of tears that suddenly came into his eyes and the lump that formed in his throat. He swallowed hard to force it down so he could speak, then he said huskily, "You say you love me and that you trust me...is that really true?"
She nodded slowly, so he continued softly, "Then why don't you believe me when I tell you how beautiful you are...and I am not just referring to your physical beauty, little girl. Your friend Lynn knew you better than you thought and told you the truth...some day, some man would come along and realize what a wonderful person you are. And I don't believe that I am the first man to realize that; any one of those other men who begged for the chance to be with you again probably realized it, but you were too blinded by your fears and pain to see it. I am going to do everything in my power to make you realize that you deserve to be loved...especially by me...or by any other man smart enough to realize how wonderful you are." He whispered those last few words as more tears flooded his eyes, so he closed them and it made the tears stick to his lashes.
He opened his eyes to look at her again, his left hand still cupping her cheek, and she was looking at him with an expression of gentle confusion, like she wanted to believe what he was saying to her. God, he hoped he was getting through to her...he couldn't stand to see her so sad!
She almost couldn't believe what he was saying to her, but the look on his face and the hurt in his eyes at seeing her pain, made her realize he meant every word. She had never seen him look so sincere; he had said it himself—he was not that good an actor, but she had never cared about that. She wasn't interested in him as an actor; she loved him as a man, and he was showing her what kind of man he was. He was exactly as she had imagined; powerful, sexy, honorable and kind...and he claimed to love her just because she deserved to be loved. If he couldn't make her believe she deserved love, then she would never be able to love anyone the right way...even him. She was so confused...she wanted him and needed him, but did she love him for the right reasons? Maybe that was why she was still so unsure that she could share a life with him...