‘No way,’ Amelia answered, enjoying the tiny moment of confusion in his loving eyes. ‘I have it from an extremely reliable source that you don’t believe in settling down! I don’t have my notes, of course, so you’ll forgive me if I misquote…’
‘I already did,’ Vaughan drawled, raining tiny kisses on her face.
His hand toying with the hem of her skirt was making it terribly hard to concentrate.
‘But I believe “hotting up” was your appalling choice of phrase. In fact, I’m sure you said something about hardly being able to keep your hands off the very lucky woman.’
‘No.’ Vaughan grinned. ‘I think you’re taking it out of context.’
‘I can always get my notes,’ Amelia gasped, as the hand that had been toying grew rather more insistent.
Making to stand up, she heard his moan of frustration as he pulled her back down.
‘Damned journalists,’ Vaughan whispered in her ear. ‘Well, I suppose if you’ve got it in writing then I’m just going to have to stand by it. I guess I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life living up to my lousy, oversexed, completely insatiable reputation.’
‘Yes,’ Amelia gasped again. A witty response was on the tip of her tongue, but so too was Vaughan, and coherence flew out of the window. ‘Yes, please.’
EPILOGUE
SAFE.
Peering out of the window as Vaughan’s car pulled into the driveway, as he climbed out and retrieved his computer and briefcase, she knew that this time there was no sliver of detriment behind the word, no question of settling for second best as there had been when she had first voiced it.
He made her feel safe.
Safe enough to shoot for the stars, safe enough to go too far, safe enough to be herself, knowing he was always beside her, was always there, proudly ready to catch her if ever she fell.
‘Hey!’ That delicious smile greeted her, but his eyes didn’t hold hers, searching instead for the baby she held in her arms—his reward to come home to after a long day in the office. And she watched her resident tycoon, supposed playboy, scoop the precious bundle into strong arms, shower a giggling gummy face with kisses, before planting a slower more deliberate one on Amelia. ‘God, I’ve missed you two.’
And she knew that he had.
Knew with complete conviction that wherever his work took him, whoever he met along the way, his heart was always with his family.
‘How’s Rory been?’
‘Grizzly,’ Amelia replied, rolling her eyes. She put her son down, his fat legs circling the air, and he gave out tiny unprovoked giggles, looking anything but.
‘His mother too?’ Vaughan grinned and Amelia pursed her lips, knowing what was coming next and deciding to get in first.
‘I’m not bored,’ Amelia insisted. ‘I love being a stay-at-home mum.’
‘He’s got teeth, Amelia,’ Vaughan pointed out. ‘And if I remember rightly that was about the time Maria decided to come back to work and put you out of a job.’
‘She didn’t put me out of a job,’ Amelia retorted. ‘I’d already handed in my notice. After the way they treated you it was the last place I wanted to be.’
‘But you miss it, though,’ Vaughan said perceptively. ‘Miss using that crazy brain of yours.’
‘I like being with Rory.’
‘Of course you do, and that’s the beauty of your work—you can do it from home, set the world alight right here from our lounge.’ He watched two spots of colour burn on her cheeks and completely misconstrued them. ‘Amelia, you can write the pieces you really want to now. It’s not as if we need the money. If nobody buys them it won’t matter a scrap.’
‘It will matter to me.’ She watched as his eyes narrowed, flushed some more under his scrutiny.
‘I don’t need to persuade you to work again, do I?’
Amelia shook her head, pulling a few rather well-thumbed pieces of paper from under a sofa cushion and nibbling on the skin around her thumb as Vaughan read through them.
‘This is great, Amelia.’ Hearing the admiration in his voice, Amelia remembered to breathe, knowing Vaughan’s appraisal would be honest. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were interviewing Mr Hassan?’
‘I wanted to be sure I could still do it,’ Amelia admitted honestly. ‘I wanted to be sure I could do his work justice.’
‘And you have,’ Vaughan said simply, and she could hear the emotion in his voice, see the flash of what could possibly be tears in those navy eyes. ‘I know sometimes I get a bit pumped up with my own self-importance, but what that guy does for a living—well, it kind of puts things into perspective…’
His voice trailed off and Amelia knew he was struggling, knew he was recalling the agonising days before, during and after Jamie’s transplant—the miracle they had all been granted under the skilful hands of Mr Hassan.
‘It’s brilliant—your article’s perfect. This is going to really help awareness. The only trouble is now you’re going to have to top it. You’re going to have to think of something just as interesting to write about…’ A knowing smile inched across his lips as Amelia for once remained silent, those two spots of colour spreading across her face and down her neck.
‘Amelia? Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?’
Back under the sofa cushion, she pulled out some more papers—only this time photos were attached, dark almond eyes were staring back at him, and she watched his curious frown, his mouth opening to speak and closing again.
Amelia tentatively tried to explain. Tried to explain to this wonderful, difficult man how she was feeling, tried to capture with halting words that the more love she received the more she had to give, that love really was the cup that runneth over.
‘You remember when I stalled on taking the blood test? Remember how terrified I was that I might carry the gene as well?’
‘Of course,’ Vaughan said warily.
‘And you remember how we decided that if we weren’t going to have children then we’d consider overseas adoption, and you got all the information, showed me how many children there were in need of loving parents?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Well, I was thinking of doing a piece on that—thinking of following a couple on their journey.’
‘Good idea!’ Vaughan grinned, relief evident on his face. ‘So who did you have in mind?’
His relief was short-lived, his eyes widening when Amelia didn’t answer, just stared at the photo he was holding in his hands—a two-year-old boy who, according to the bio, quite simply couldn’t be placed. Newborn babes were the order of the day for most young couples. Two-year-olds with attitude were far harder to find a home for.
‘If we’d ended up adopting we’d have loved him.’ Amelia swallowed hard. ‘We’d have loved him just as much as we love Rory. He wouldn’t have been second best.’
‘No.’ Vaughan raked a hand through his hair. ‘But, Amelia, he might already have a family by now.’
‘And he might not.’
For the longest time he was silent, staring at the photo for an age before turning to her. ‘Are you unhappy, Amelia? Is there…?’
‘I’ve never been more happy, Vaughan. Never been more fulfilled. Over and over I pinch myself—can’t believe how lucky I am, how lucky we all are to have found each other.’
She knew he was listening, but his eyes had left hers now, were staring instead at the sad, bewildered eyes in the picture he held. A soft smile formed on his lips. ‘He is kind of cute,’ Vaughan said very slowly, very cautiously, and Amelia knew she had to hold back a touch, couldn’t let her mounting excitement sway him for even a moment. This decision was way too important to be rushed into. It was a child they were talking about, not some crazy impulse buy they could take back and exchange if things didn’t work out.
But already she loved him.
And from the look in Vaughan’s eyes, the way his thumb was stroking the pale cheeks on the photo, he was starting to feel that way too.
&nb
sp; ‘I’m supposed to be a bastard.’ Putting down the papers, he dragged her into his arms and she went unrelenting. ‘I’m supposed to be a complete cad, making a mere token effort to settle down.’
‘I know.’ Amelia smiled, closing her eyes in bliss as he held her ever closer to his chest. ‘I read all about it last week.’
‘You know,’ Vaughan whispered, pulling her in, safe in the warm glow of love, ‘this is going to completely ruin my reputation.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5916-8
IN THE RICH MAN’S WORLD
First North American Publication 2005.
Copyright © 2005 by The SAL Marinelli Family Trust.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com
In the Rich Man's World Page 15