by Ava Miles
They continued to lie like that until she finally stroked his back and kissed the side of his face. He simply had to see her in that moment. When he lifted his head, her eyes were waiting for him, so filled with light they seemed to glow like stars. They crinkled at the corners when she smiled softly, putting her hands in his hair again.
Somehow he was still unable to speak, but her smile helped him find his voice.
“It will always be you,” he whispered.
“For me too,” she said quietly back. “We’re going to have to figure out what comes next, but you’re my future.”
“And you’re mine. We’ll figure it out. We have to, Francie.”
“I know we do,” she said, pressing him to turn them onto their sides. “When I took this assignment, I didn’t expect to give in this quickly.”
“Sounds like you knew on some level you were going to.” He fought a smile. “Did Alice’s drawing push you over the edge?”
She laughed softly, the sound so sexy it had his body hardening again within her. “You made quite a statement with it.”
It hadn’t started out that way. He’d only wanted to have something else of her around him, something he could look at as he lay in bed before sleep. “I’d hoped you might hear about it and understand what it meant. I’m glad you came to my room.”
“You weren’t in your office.” She rose on her elbow. “In fact, your door was open and you’d showered. Not your normal routine. Was it a total setup?”
He lay on his back, keeping an arm around her waist. “You came into my room, remember?”
“Alice was being my lookout downstairs,” she said, giving him a gentle punch. “Quinn Merriam, you are devious.”
He rolled to his side and kissed her. “Admit it. The picture finally gave you permission to be here with me.”
“Perhaps it did.” Her mouth curved, and she leaned in and gave him a long, lingering kiss. “We’ll have to set some ground rules, you know. I still have a job to do, and this can’t interfere.”
He snorted. “Darling, I have a job to do too, and you’re damn right we won’t let this interfere. Actually, I’m hoping it will enhance our working relationship. I won’t have to work so hard to keep my lustful thoughts from you.”
Her laughter was light and musical and so achingly familiar he found himself smiling.
“Please. You didn’t do much to conceal them. I could hear your lustful thoughts from across the room. At the dining table too, I might add. I feared the others could as well.” Thank God they all wanted them to get together. Otherwise, it would have been horribly awkward.
“There’s not much you can do to hide a fire. But I didn’t make any overtures after that kiss in my mom’s kitchen. I was a damn good guy if you ask me.”
“You were,” she said with a small smile, resting her cheek against his chest. “What are we going to do now?”
He shifted so he could see her face. “I want to romance you a bit. I…I want to treat you like the most precious thing in the world. Because that’s what you are, dammit.”
Her eyes went soft, and her fingers caressed his chest. “Aside from the cursing, that was a pretty nice compliment. You’re still precious to me when you’re not aggravating.”
“Have I been aggravating?” He traced the small of her back. “I agreed to host the chaperones, Francesca. Never forget that.” Truthfully, he’d enjoyed having them around. It had been yet another reminder that he missed his family, that they brought out this other side of him—playful and mischievous—just like Francesca did.
“You get points for that. What are we going to do about them now?”
“Kick them out,” Quinn suggested, earning him another nudge. “Hell, they can stay with my parents. The wedding is—”
“Two weeks away tomorrow,” she said, worrying her lip. “Quinn, Alice always stays with me, and she’s having such a great time, with Hargreaves especially. I don’t want to break that up. When her parents died— He’s become special to her and she to him.”
He turned her and rose over her. “You aren’t suggesting they all stay here?”
She waved to the room. “We have the guesthouse for privacy. Plus, didn’t you want me to get to know your family better?”
Dear God, she was serious. “You can meet them all at the wedding.” Most of them were coming in late next week to spend time together before the festivities, and he hoped they’d finish their work early so they could hang out with everyone.
“Are you asking me to accompany you?” Her brow rose in a regal dare.
“I was getting around to it. But yes, of course I want you to go. I didn’t want to ask you until we were a sure thing.”
“Like now,” she said, giving him a look.
He was having none of it. “Francesca, the last wedding I went to was Flynn’s, and Connor and I had a heart-to-heart about you. I walked away from the reception because I was missing you so much. I don’t want to do a repeat of that.”
“So ask me.” Her regal dare was gone, replaced by an open entreaty.
“Will you be my date to my sister’s wedding?” he asked.
“I’d love to,” she said, her smile warm. “And the chaperones stay.”
He groaned, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one.
“Look on this as a positive. Their presence will keep us from ripping each other’s clothes off during the day, which would make us have to work late into the night.”
That was a positive? “Honey, I was looking forward to some naked work breaks with you. I’m tired of the damn tea time.”
“Oh, look who’s turning grouchy again,” she crooned, making him growl.
“Is it terrible that I want to be alone with you?” He traced the delicate line of her brow. “I love you.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I thought it might be strange to say the words again after so long. I told myself my heart would know when to say them. Tonight, when I saw the drawing in your room, I knew I couldn’t stop myself.”
“I’ll have to thank Alice.” Then he laughed, long and loud. “Her expression when I came down the stairs carrying you—”
“Was priceless.” She laughed gustily as well. “Then you said ‘good decision’ when she talked about going back into the kitchen. Oh, Quinn, we must have been a sight, with you wearing nothing but a towel.”
He lifted her leg over his hip. “But a hot one. I’m about to show you another sight.”
“I had an inkling.” She tightened her grip on him. “I can’t wait.”
His heart filled with love for her as he gazed into her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I know you like to have a plan for everything, but I also want to be clear. I want us to get married. Soon. Not in a couple years. Tell me that’s what you see too.”
She was quiet again, and his heart thudded in his chest as he waited for her to compose her thoughts.
“I do. I love you, Quinn. ‘Soon’ will need some definition, of course. You still want children, don’t you?”
His throat squeezed. At one time, he had so easily seen a dark-haired little girl with Francesca’s eyes holding his hand as they walked through the park. After their breakup, he’d pushed aside all of those visions. But suddenly, the little girl was in vivid color in his mind and she was smiling at him. “Of course. And you?”
“Yes,” she said, her smile radiant. “Until now, I didn’t see it happening. But I saw our children in a vision tonight. It…confirmed my decision.”
He kissed her slowly, needing to share the emotion they both felt.
“Well…” She gave a lusty sigh when he released her mouth. “We’ve fallen back into it, haven’t we?”
“It’s like riding a bike,” he quipped, but he squeezed her arm gently. “Or it’s the soulmate thing.”
“The soulmate explanation sounds better to my ears. Quinn, we really will need to restructure the company so you can have a life outside of work once we get to the management structure
. I don’t want you to work like my father did when I was growing up.”
“Or mine,” he added, lifting her hand to his mouth. “We’re going to figure it out. And you’ll need to make changes too. I mean, living around the world one consultancy after another isn’t going to work. For either of us.”
Would she consider working with him at Merriam? She would make a terrific vice president. But he hesitated. It wasn’t the time to ask. Not if she was still conflicted about her duties to the Maroun employees.
He couldn’t imagine her father would be thrilled at the news that they were together again. After all, he’d only been with Francesca for a matter of weeks when her father had come to see him in London, warning him off. He’d known how much it would upset her, so he’d handled it.
“You’re right,” she said, caressing his lower back. “Besides, I felt the call of home when I arrived here.”
That heartened him. “You did?”
“I did, and I feel it now, surrounded by the smell of jasmine.”
“Every breath you take, I want you to remember what’s between us,” he said softly.
Her eyes flashed violet fire. “I always knew you were a romantic at heart, Quinn Merriam, from the first moment you brought a book of Rumi poems to the park with me.”
“You weren’t exactly romance central when I brought Rumi up that first day we met.”
“I was protecting myself.”
But now she wasn’t. She’d opened herself to him, and that knowledge made him swallow back emotion. He made a glib joke. “Mum’s the word on my Rumi readings. The news would be horrible for my rep.”
“That part of you is only for me,” she said softly, caressing him lower, making him rouse with desire.
He shifted until she was on top, wanting to show her how equal they’d always be. “Only you is right. Now you give me what I need.” Like I will you.
“Always.”
He heard the promise in her words and tucked it deep inside his heart for what lay ahead.
Chapter 14
Clara was determined to have the best damn Valentine’s Day ever.
The worsening news about the coronavirus wasn’t going to dim her day—or her husband’s. It was the first time they’d spent the holiday together.
“Put the tablet away, Arthur,” she said, poking him in the shoulder as she sat beside him on the couch.
He threw his tablet to the side and rubbed his eyes. “Bah! Sixty some thousand cases in mainland China alone. The first one in Africa. Hell, Heathrow Airport even delayed eight flights out of London because of the virus. It’s spreading fast, Clara.”
The recent news downright terrified her. “I wanted to be wrong.”
“Maybe it will run its course quickly.”
He might be a jaded journalist, but he was attempting to be hopeful, which was the greatest gift he could give. “We can hope. I talked to Michaela earlier, and she and Boyd are starting to worry about whether their international guests should still come to the wedding. Not only for their health, but for others. Boyd’s rethinking their honeymoon plans, especially since Michaela almost died of that virus a couple of months ago.”
“That’s a wise decision given the news, and Boyd would know it. They’ve been to a lot of places with weird viruses. They know how dangerous they can be.”
She thought of her eightieth birthday party in Dare Valley coming up in early March. Might it also have to be canceled?
“They’re adding technicians to fast-track testing for the healing flower, but it’ll still take a year at best. It’s so frustrating.”
Arthur snapped his fingers in front of her face. “All right. We’re going to stop all this talk. Are you ready for your Valentine’s present?”
She took his weathered hand. “You’re mine, but sure, if you got me something.”
He harrumphed. “If I got you something… Woman, you know I did. Be right back.”
Clara watched as he took the stairs. Looking over her shoulder, she was encouraged to see Hargreaves and Alice in the kitchen, hunched over a cup of tea, their heads tilted together like usual. A few strains of German filtered to her, and she shook her head. They were always talking in a different language it seemed, and Alice liked teasing Clara that it gave them extra privacy in an open house. Personally, Clara would encourage them to speak in just about anything if it kept that warm look on Hargreaves’ face.
In truth, privacy was easy to come by these days, because Quinn and Francesca retired to the guesthouse every night after dinner. The two had been very close-lipped about the change between them—Arthur said they were beaming so brightly he sometimes couldn’t see his food and needed sunglasses—and Clara wondered why the reunited couple hadn’t asked them to leave. She figured Alice had something to do with it, and since Hargreaves was so happy with his new friend, she wasn’t keen for a change. Out of respect for their reserve, she hadn’t asked.
Arthur appeared carrying a silver-wrapped present.
Clara gasped. “You didn’t wrap that. Where could you have hidden it? Hargreaves and I packed your bag.”
“Hargreaves had it. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Thank you for making every day happier than the last.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You’re becoming more of a poet in your retirement.”
“Bah! Love makes a man say the most crazy things.” He sat next to her and placed the present in her lap. “To remind you of our journey together so far. This was Jill’s idea, by the way.”
As she unwrapped the present—a beautiful scrapbook with a photo of them in the lavender fields of Provence gracing the cover—and opened it, she had to admit Jill knew her audience. “Arthur Hale. You surprise me in the best ways.”
She caressed the first black-and-white photo of them at a ball in 1959 and then another at Grandpa Merriam’s house in the garden. The next page had photos of their wedding last summer, and then there was a page devoted to each of their trips to help matchmake the Merriam children. The final ones were of their extended families: his with the Hales and hers with the Merriams.
“Thank you for being my family, Clara.”
His eyes were misty as she leaned in to kiss him. “Oh, Arthur Hale, you’re going to make me cry.”
He produced his trusty white handkerchief. “I’m ready for you.”
She dabbed her eyes and then did the same to him. “I love you. Never forget it.”
“I love you too, despite the Indian food you foist on me weekly. Did we have to have it again last night? I swear I sometimes feel like curry is my new cologne.”
She laughed. “If it is, it smells delicious on you. Now it’s time for your present.”
She pulled up the email and handed him her phone. He’d go on about the technology, but truthfully, his blustering amused her.
He peered at the screen, his frown ferocious. “You got me an email account.”
“No, look closer.”
Grabbing the phone, he laughed. “You got me reckless driving lessons? With a hot mama?”
She punched him. “No, it’s high-performance driving training. For your convertible. You drive like an old fuddy-duddy, and I’ve come to realize you have the need for speed.”
“The need for speed?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Good God, woman, I only have a need for speed to keep up with you. But thank you. I love it.”
“You’re welcome. I’m already looking forward to all the speed you can drum up during our afternoon ‘nap.’”
He waggled his brows. “Not today. We have plans for the late afternoon and evening. Part of your next present. I think it’s time to call up Quinn and Francesca. Hargreaves!”
“I’ll go and grab them, Arthur,” Alice said, jumping to attention. “Everyone needs to get ready for their date.”
He slapped his head as she raced to the stairs leading to the lower level. “And she just gave it away.”
“Her enthusiasm sometimes gets the better of her, sir,” Hargreaves said, c
oming toward them, a broad smile on his face. “It’s one of her most charming assets, I believe.”
“Good thing you think so, Hargreaves, since you spend every waking minute with her.”
Clara noted her old friend’s smile only grew. “I do, indeed, sir. We converse on any number of topics, from European history to the best technique for cooking lamb shank, and we speak in languages I haven’t had the opportunity to converse in for some time. It has been stupendous.”
Stupendous? When did Hargreaves ever use that word? “Maybe I’ll need to hire Alice away from Francesca. I don’t know how you two will be separated after this.” They’d even taken to lightly sparring with each other after the yoga or tai chi Clara did with them.
That dimmed his smile, and she was sorry she’d opened her mouth. “We must all soldier on. Perhaps I will need to embrace texting and FaceTime as you have, Madam.”
“Good God, Hargreaves,” Arthur said with a feigned gasp. “Not that.”
Alice ran back up the stairs, eliminating the need for Hargreaves to respond, but Clara saw the look on his face. He was going to miss Alice, and she him. Clara would have to figure out what to do about that. Well, surely she could encourage him to take his vacations. He’d rarely used the time off allotted to him.
Then she wondered if her friend needed to find a new purpose in life. He was eighty, like her, and she’d finally found hers. Was it time for him to find his own way? She clutched Arthur’s handkerchief at the very thought. But if it came to it, she’d have to buck up. Hargreaves’ happiness meant too much to her.
“Well, you got us up here,” Quinn said, putting his hand on Francesca’s back. “Is it time to unveil the surprise, Arthur?”
“Past time,” he said with a nod.
“Age before beauty,” Quinn said with a laugh after Francesca pinned him with one of her regal glares.
Clara really had to admire her for their execution.
“We’re having a private tour of the de Young Museum,” Arthur said. “Hargreaves had the idea, and he deserves the credit.”
“You asked, sir,” the man said formally. “Master J.T.’s reputation in the art world secured it. Miss Caroline will be joining us.”