The Phoenix Law
Page 26
It was colder tonight than it had been then, the year more aged than it had been a decade earlier, the last time Alisha had sat at this café with this particular lighting. Ten years. The idea of it brought another brief smile to her lips, this time astonishment. The moment she strove to recapture seemed both impossibly long ago, and improbably recent.
Warmth stirred the air behind her, a hint of familiar cologne, and she was on her feet, clutched in a rough, long hug before she’d even seen the man approaching. Reichart’s fingers were in her hair, his forehead pressed against hers, touch too desperate for kisses as he whispered, “Alisha.”
“Hello, Frank.” Laughter, apology, gladness in the simple words. “I’ve been waiting.”
“Not long,” he said hoarsely. “Not long. I only read the letter this morning. Jesus, Leesh. I thought—”
Alisha lifted her hand to touch it against his lips. “I know. I’m sorry.” After a critical moment of looking him over, she added, “You look like hell, Reichart.” He’d grown stubble, disguising the usually clean lines of his jaw, and his dark eyes were exhausted, though filled with relief. Even his usual playboy leather jacket looked too hard-worn, and his black jeans were scuffed and loose at the knees.
He gave a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Can’t be helped. The woman I love just came back from the dead. It throws a guy off balance. You look fantastic. Alive is a good look for you. God, Alisha!”
“It’s okay. It’s all right now, Frank. And I have something for you.” Alisha turned away without leaving the circle of his arms, reaching toward the coat that lay over the back of her chair. Reichart caught her hand, bringing it back toward him.
“Leesh…” He folded her knuckles over his, bringing the ring on her left ring finger to the forefront. A round-cut diamond set directly into gold glittered in the misty light, warmed by surrounding yellow topaz, Alisha’s favorite stone.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” Alisha murmured. “You gave it to me, after all.”
“You kept it.” Reichart’s voice had gone hoarse again. “You kept it even after I shot you?”
“Even a spy gets sentimental,” Alisha said lightly. She extracted her fingers from Reichart’s and turned away again, this time able to capture a black velvet box from within the folds of her coat. “Besides,” she added a moment later, opening the box to reveal a larger version of the same ring, “I had to have something to model yours on. I thought about it, Reichart,” she said as seriously as she could in light of the man’s dropped jaw. “Last time you proposed to me things went very badly. I mean, we broke up by you putting a bullet in my shoulder. So I thought maybe this time we should do the whole thing differently.”
“Alisha…”
Alisha pushed him back a step or two, grinning, and knelt on the flagstones. The nearby café patrons went quiet, watching curiously as Alisha turned her gaze up to the tall man before her. She cleared her throat, making the most of the surrounding silence, and lifted her voice to do away with discretion and ask, in clear French, “Will you marry me, Frank Reichart?”
“Yeah.” Reichart’s grin bordered on laughter as he pulled her to her feet and into a kiss. “Yes, by God, I think I will.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5452-1
THE PHOENIX LAW
Copyright © 2006 by C.E. Murphy
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