A Risk Worth Taking by Laura Landon Page A

flames flickering in the fireplace. Did he want it badly enough? He closed his eyes and struggled to find the answer.
    He was tired of not knowing where he was most of the time. Of not knowing who he was, or where he was going. Or where he had been.
    He was tired of the lost days and nights, and waking up in strange places and not knowing how he’d gotten there. Of being so sick he thought he would die before he had his first drink, then downing enough until he no longer cared.
    Of not being able to remember Freddie’s face, or Julia’s voice, or Andrew’s laughter.
    He was tired of it all. Just plain tired. A pain burned like fire in his gut. He sighed. “What am I facing? I’d rather know.”
    Dr. Thornton straightened in his chair. “All right. Here’s the worst of it. You already know the first signs. You’re suffering from them right now. You are desperate for a drink and don’t think you can survive if you don’t have one. You are nauseous and you can’t stop your hands from shaking. First you’re hot, then you’re cold, and your head hurts so badly you’re afraid it might explode at any moment. That will only get worse. You’ll shake until you can’t even stay lying on a bed. We’ll tie you down if we have to. The nausea will intensify, along with the sweating. You’ll be so hot you’ll think you’re burning up. And the pain will be so powerful you’ll pray you’ll die.”
    “Will I?”
    Samuel Thornton didn’t answer for several long seconds. “Not if I can help it.”
    “How long will this last?”
    “If you’re lucky, three days, maybe four. If you’re not, it might be a week. By then, all the symptoms will have lessened and will eventually go away. All except one.”
    Dr. Thornton looked at Griff with more conviction. “You will never lose the craving for a drink, Mr. Blackmoor. You will always want one. But once you take your first drink, you’ll be back to the point you are right now. Worse. The next time, it will be even harder to stop. Eventually, the liquor you can’t live without will kill you.”
    Griff swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. The room was like an oven. He felt like hell.
    “This will not be easy, Mr. Blackmoor. I won’t lie to you and tell you it will. You have to want to stay sober a hell of a lot more than you want to be drunk.”
    Griff turned his gaze to Adam and found him watching him. A tightness clenched in Griff’s chest. Dear God, he wanted to be the man he used to be. The loving, caring man he’d been when he still had Julia and Andrew. And even after. After he’d lost them. When he hurt so badly he wanted to die. Even then he’d still found the courage to go on.
    Then he’d gone to war and had come home a man who had seen too much and endured too much but who could, if he tried hard enough, forget most of it some of the time, some of it most of the time. But all that changed when Freddie had died. Freddie had been one death too many. The death that should have been his own.
    “Decide tonight, Griff,” Adam said. “Before Lady Anne gets too settled.”
    Griff stiffened. He could do this. At least until she chose a husband. How hard could it be, after all? It wasn’t that he couldn’t stop drinking anytime he chose to; he just didn’t want to. But he would. Until Freddie’s sister had made a match.
    Griff looked at the unyielding expression on Adam’s face and tried to appear in control. But the unbearable pain thundering inside his head and the roiling of his stomach made pretending he was in command impossible.
    Bloody hell.
    He wiped the sweat from his face and paced the room. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He stopped. Even he heard thepanic in his voice, a terror that bordered on desperation. “I’m going upstairs.”
    “There’s a room ready for you in the east wing, at the end of the hall,” Adam said. “Fenwick will show you up. Dr. Thornton and I will be up shortly.”
    Griff paid little attention to what