LOVE IS IN THE HEIR (COMPLETE)

Chapter 28

The next few days were the most painful, uncomfortable and embarrassing of my life.

There are some women out there who would think it would be fantastically romantic to have the man of your dreams at your bedside after being blown-up, but I am here to tell you it is anything but!

You can't scratch your own nose when you have a broken arm and collar bone. The other hand is hooked up to a drip. You can't wash your own face which means 'eye boogies' when you wake up. Bed hair, which is greasy, knotty and smelly. They blow your stomach up with gas when they operate so they have more room to manoeuvre which means you can't control your bottom burping either and I'm not talking about a little fart... I mean trumpeting noises that even startle the guards! I gave up saying 'Pardon me', 'Sorry', 'Whoops' or 'Oh my god'... now I just wait for Edward to stop laughing and tell me how much I scored out of 10. I can't cover my face in shame as I have no hands free... which means no going to the toilet without a bed pan and I can't wipe myself either. Edward always leaves the room but all the romance is gone. He's seen me be sick several times, helped my wipe my snotty nose as I caught a cold and don't even get me started on how hairy my eyebrows, arms, legs and lady bits are... it's like jumanji down there.

My injuries have healed enough so I can be moved and Edward has promised to take me by the shop on my way to the airport to say goodbye to the village and all my friends. Every time I think about it I cry, so lord knows what I will be like when I get there.

Edward had arranged for me to have a make over today. Nothing too strenuous but the hairy bits went and the woman who did it was like Mrs Trunchbull. I felt better that she wasn't some supermodel who was going to go telling the press how hairy my 'hoo har' was. I also wondered if he had scoured the world for the least attractive waxer as she was no oil painting and working in the beauty industry meant people often groomed themselves.

My hair was finally washed and given a new tone to make it look warmer. Along with the cut it desperately needed. Eyebrows plucked and eye lashes tinted. I had broken a tooth in the explosion when I fractured my cheekbone so I had my teeth cleaned in surgery when that tooth was fixed. Thank god I wasn't awake for that as Dentists are another phobia I have. Every thoughtful thing Edward had arranged. He had taken care of my entire affairs and as we were engaged, he said they were 'our' affairs.

A friend of his mothers had arrived who is a stylist and he was in charge the make over. He was a very serious man when giving instructions on what was to be done but when not doing that he was a sweetheart and amazingly not gay, he was married to an artist with three kids.

"Let's keep it fresh and comfortable. When that pedicure is done we will use the neutral nail varnish and the same with the nails. This cast on the arm needs to be kept steady and the bandages for her stomach and thigh are to be flesh colour. If she is going to walk to that car I want those paps to see her at her best," he said.

"Good luck with that," I replied.

"You'll see," he said confident and when they finally helped me stand I could see he was a man of his word.

"WOW!" was all I could say and stare. I used my one working hand to touch my face and counted myself lucky I only received a compress facture to my cheekbone and a broken tooth.

My hair was shiny, healthy and full of body. I looked like a shampoo advert come to life.

"All the burnt bits and knots are gone," I said smiling at the hair stylist. He smiled back proudly.

"Ok let's practice walking in these loafers," the chief stylist said. I was in cargo pants, shirt and a wrap to hide my cast. All to ensure I was comfortable.

"They are like slippers," I replied feeling the comfort of them as I walked a few tentative steps and several hands stood ready to catch me. "Dah dar!" I said at the end.

"We are ready," he said and called in Edward.

Edward face was a picture. He was as amazed as I was by the transformation and I noticed he had one of his own including haircut and shave. He walked over, smelling divine and I couldn't help but smile with excitement as I knew he was going to kiss me. Plus now I could get that cuddle I had been waiting on.

He bent his head as he gave a sexy smile as he pressed a kiss against my lips. My hand snaked up around his shoulders to the back of his neck allowing me to kiss him back properly for the first time since my accident. When we finally broke off our mini snog everyone laughed.

"Let's take you home," he said as I slid my free arm through his.

It was then I realised I had created my own cocoon and outside that door was a hospital. It stole the wind from my lungs as I tried to back up into the room again.

"It's ok, the lift is there ten steps ahead of you to the left. You can do it," Edward said encouragingly. He wasn't trying to pull me; he just stood waiting for me to catch my breath and try not to cry.

"Sorry just give me a minute. I feel sick," I said as my eyes filled with tears and I knew if they fell I risked ruining my make up.

"Here," the stylist said passing me some sunglasses. "Put these on. You can hide behind them. My wife swears by it when we go in the reptile centre at the zoo. She hates that bit but the boys love it."

"I'm sorry, I being so stupid," I said ashamed of myself.

"We are all scared on something," Edward replied.

"What are you scared of?" I asked.

"Losing you," he replied and moved us toward the lift whilst I was stunned by his words.

Gerard was by the lift. "I don't know about you but I can't wait to see the back of this place," he said.

I nodded and stood in the lift. I actually felt less afraid behind the sunglasses. The fear was still there but it was like a scary ride I knew was going to end soon and it was not the crushing fear I felt before.

The lift open and we walked out towards a reception full of television crews. I recognised one man from the main news who was to my mind a very good reporter and not a 'dirt digger'. He often reported on war.

"Victoria, how are you feeling?" he asked.

"Well very thank you," I replied.

He seemed stunned that I replied.

"How does it feel to be going home?" he asked but seemed to immediately regret his words.

Gerard helped me into the car as other guards kept the reporters away. He strapped me in and sat opposite as Edward knelt in front of me and the door was closed.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

I nodded as I took off my glasses but I wasn't. 'Home' I didn't have one. Yes, I was going to live with Edward but the palace wasn't home and the villa he spoke of was not real to my mind yet. It was like a holiday brochure someone tells you about. It didn't feel like home.

"I think we should go straight home to Monaco and not back to a pile of rubble," he said. "We can come back in a week or two and take Arthur and Mary back with us to show off our new home. It would be better to see the past knowing what the future holds."

I nodded my head as the tears began to fall. "It is not fair," I sniffled.

"I know baby. I don't think bombers are ones to play fair," he said pressing his lips to mine in a reassuring kiss. The flash of cameras made him sit up beside me as we pulled off.

"Let's go home," he said taking my hand.

I nodded and squeezed his hand.

"Thia is going to be there with the children. You have a baby waiting for cuddles," Gerard said.

I smiled as the thought ofsomeone waiting for me at 'home' made it... Home!r