by Nora Roberts
"You always made that clear."
"I suppose I did. But what I haven't made clear is how much I admire the man you've made of yourself. I know how important you are to Templeton, and how important Templeton is to you. I've come to understand just how much responsibility you have, and how seriously you take it since we—well, since we've been together. It's important to me that you believe that."
"You make me feel like an idiot." He had to walk away from her, crossing the tiled terrace to look out to the cliffs. "It matters," he managed. "What you think of me matters." He turned back. "I was fascinated, and often irritated by the girl you were, Margo."
She cocked a brow. "You always made that clear."
"I still am, fascinated and often irritated, but I admire the woman you've made of yourself, Margo. I admire her a great deal."
So there was hope, she thought, closing her eyes briefly. And where there was hope, there could be trust and respect, and certainly love. "I want us to be friends again, Josh. You're too important to my life to do without. We managed to be friends before. I want us to be friends again."
"Friends." It threatened to choke him.
"I think both of us forgot that part of our history along the way. I wouldn't want that to happen again."
She was smiling at him, the wind making a sexy mess of of her fancy braid, the sun slanting in her eyes as it drifted lazily down in the west. "You can stand there and tell me you think friendship is the answer."
"It's one of them. An important one."
He couldn't start all over again. It would kill him. The rage of love inside him would never settle for something as patient as friendship. Slowly, he crossed back to her. "One of us has lost his or her mind."
"Let's give it some time. We can start with you giving me some friendly advice." Smooth as silk, she tucked her hand through his arm and guided him around the side of the house. "Isn't this place fabulous? Wait until you see the fountain in the back. It's charming. Of course, I think it should have a pool. There's enough land for a small free-form. And the view from that upper balcony—that must be the master suite, don't you think? It's got to be incredible. I guess there's at least two fireplaces. I haven't been inside yet, but I'm hoping there's one in the master bedroom."
"Wait a minute. Hold on." His mind was spinning. Her perfume was clouding his brain, and her words jammed into his consciousness.
"And look at this bougainvillea. It really should be cut back, but I love it wild. The terrace is perfect for entertaining, isn't it? And the location couldn't be better. Just up the coast from the shop and all but next door to Templeton House."
"I said, hold it." He turned her around, took a firm grip on her shoulders. "Are you thinking of buying this place?"
"It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance." Her only chance. "Kate says it's a fabulous deal, a solid investment, and you know how pessimistic she is. It isn't even going on the market until next week—there was some problem with clearing the deed—so it's ground floor."
"Jesus, duchess, you never change."
Her heart lightened a bit at the amused exasperation in his tone. "Should I?"
"Listen, this place has got to run at least three hundred K."
"Three hundred fifty, but Kate thinks three hundred will close it."
"Dream on," he muttered.
"I am."
"You've been in business less than a year, a month before that you were sniffing at bankruptcy. There isn't a bank on the planet that's going to approve a loan of this size. Margo, you just can't afford it."
"I know." She aimed her best smile, the one that had earned her fleeting fame and fortune. "But you can."
He did choke. "You want me to buy a damn house for you?"
"Sort of." She toyed with the button of his shirt, shot a look up from under her lashes. "I thought if you bought it, and married me, we could both live here."
He couldn't get a word out. When his vision hazed, he realized he wasn't breathing either. "I have to sit down."
"I know how you feel." She linked her hands together, found them damp, as he lowered himself to a bench.
"You want me to buy a house and marry you so you can live in it?"
"So we can live in it," she corrected. "Together. When we're not traveling."
"You just got finished telling me you didn't want things back the way they were."
"I don't. It was too easy before. Too easy to dive in, too easy to walk. I want to make it hard. I want to make it very, very hard. I love you." Because her eyes were filling, she turned away. "I love you so much. I can live without you. You don't have to worry that I'll jump off a cliff like Seraphina if you walk. But I don't want to live without you. I want to be married to you, have a family with you, build something here with you. That's all I have to say."
"That's all you have to say," he repeated. His heart had settled back in place, but it seemed to be taking up too much room. So much that it hurt his chest. Just as the grin was so wide it hurt his face. "I guess it's my turn to say something."
"I'd never cheat on you."
"Shut up, Margo. You lost your chance to see me crawl over that one. I was wrong, I was stupid and I was careless with you, and it won't happen again. And I'm going to add that I always thought a hell of a lot more of you than you thought of yourself. That's all I have to say."
"All right, then." She struggled to find a dignified exit. But he laid a hand on her shoulder and put what he had in his hand under her nose.
The ring caught fire and light and promise. She covered her mouth with her hand as it shot out dreams that dazzled her eyes. "Oh, my God."
"Grandmother Templeton's engagement ring. You remember her."
"I—Yes. Yes."
"It came to me. I got it out of the safe deposit box, had it in my pocket the day I walked in on you and your Italian friend."
"Oh. Oh."
"No, you're not going to sit down." He jerked her upright and into his arms. "I want your knees weak. I wouldn't mind if you babbled too, since you've spoiled my romantic plans of giving you this on one knee in candlelight."
"Oh." She dropped her head on his chest. "Oh."
"Don't cry. I can't stand it when you cry."
"I'm not." To prove it, she lifted her face and showed him she was laughing. "I was going to ask you."
"Ask me what?"
"Jesus, why can't we keep up with each other?" She mopped at tears with her fingers. "That night, I was going to ask you to marry me. I figured it was going to take a lot of work and flare to talk you into it. So I had it all planned. I was going to dare you."
"You're kidding."
"Take off those damn glasses." She snatched them off herself, tossed them recklessly over her shoulder, heard them shatter on the terra-cotta. "I still beat you to it. I still asked you first." Before he could move, she snatched the ring out of his hand. "And you said yes. This proves it."
"I didn't say anything yet," he corrected and made a grab for her. "Damn it, Margo, come here. If I don't get my hands on you, I'll explode."
"Say yes." She danced out of reach, holding the ring aloft like a torch. "Say yes first."
"All right, yes. What the hell. I'll take you on."
He caught her on the fly, whirled her around. And she felt something swirl inside her. No, it's not the spinning, Mum, she thought. It is the man.
His mouth was on hers before her feet touched the ground. "For life," he murmured, cupping her face.
"No. Forever." She tipped her mouth to his again. "I want forever."
He took her hand, holding her gaze as he slipped the ring on her finger. It fit like a dream. "Done," he said.
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