Four Weeks Till Forever

by Nadia Lee

  “How could you ever think that? He adores you.”

  “I know that now, but back then I didn’t. I wasn’t certain I was good enough for him.”

  Fresh tears welled in Hilary’s eyes. “I know I’m not good enough.”

  “Mark’s no dummy. If you really weren’t worth it, he wouldn’t go through all this trouble. You’re a great woman, Hilary. You just don’t realize it, which only makes you that much sweeter.” Amandine gave her a tight hug. “Do what feels right to you and what will make you happy.” She pulled back and gave Hilary a quick grin. “You drove here, right? Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

  “But Gavin ne—”

  “Gavin won’t mind.” Amandine gave her a wink. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Hilary tilted her head back and looked at the fluffy messages in the perfect blue sky.

  Heart.

  Mark and Hilary 4EVER.

  Her heart thumped.

  She was at the precipice.

  Jump. Jump. Jump.

  If she got this close and stepped back, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. Jo was right. When she was old and on her last legs, Hilary didn’t want to think about what could’ve been. She wanted to be able to talk to her grandchildren about the great romance of her life. About how much Mark loved her.

  She pulled out her phone and scrolled down until she found his last text. I love you. Have dinner with me.

  Her hands shaking, she typed: Okay.

  * * *

  “So how does she look?” Mark asked, pacing. At the rate things were going, he’d need to replace the damned carpet in his home office.

  “Crying,” Gavin said.

  Mark wanted to bang his head against his desk. “What kind of crying? Good crying or bad crying?”

  “I don’t know. Amandine’s with her right now. She just gave Hilary a big hug. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “You’re so useless.” He should’ve never asked Gavin, whose obtuseness concerning women would make a pile of bricks appear positively romantic by comparison. Mark should’ve hired a private detective—a female one—to watch Hilary instead and report on her reactions.

  “Hey, give me a break. I never have to figure out my employees’ moods. It’s their job to figure out mine.”

  “You know what? After she marries me, I’m going to make sure she quits.”

  “What?! You can’t do that.”

  “Sure, I can. I’m not saying she can’t work. She just can’t work for you.”

  “Don’t be a hater. Oh wait. Amandine’s coming in.”

  “Thank god. Lemme talk to her. I’m sure she can tell me better than you.”

  “There’s a small possibility that you might potentially be right. Hold on.”

  A moment later Amandine was on the line. “Hey, Mark. That was some show there.”

  “Thanks. Was Hilary impressed?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  His stomach twisted at the way she hesitated. “What?”

  “I don’t know if you’re on the right track. You’re making these grand gestures, and I admit they’re very impressive. But romance means intimacy. You might consider doing things face-to-face so she can look into your eyes and see the truth in them. Does that make sense?”

  “Totally. The thing is, I tried that and it didn’t work. She’s convinced I’m going to be like my dad.” And it hurt him that he had nothing to counter her belief. His reputation was pretty crappy when it came to women. If he’d known this day would come, he would’ve been more careful and circumspect.

  “Well, why don’t you try again? She might surprise you.”

  But Hilary wouldn’t even have dinner with him. He was keenly aware of the lack of response from her. How in the hell was he supposed to look into her eyes and be all sincere and romantic when she wouldn’t even answer his texts?

  Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it. Hilary. “Gotta go,” he said, pressing it to his ear again. “I’ll call you later.” He hung up and checked the message.

  Okay.

  He blinked. Then his mouth dried and he felt light-headed. Shit. She’d said yes to dinner.

  But was it a good yes or a bad yes? Then he almost smacked himself for even thinking that. There was no such thing as a bad yes.

  He looked around his penthouse, realizing that he needed the maid service again, and quick. A blanket was on the floor in front of the TV—he still wasn’t able to sleep in his own bed—and a soggy pizza box lay on the coffee table. An old shirt and shorts covered his couch. Nothing had been wiped down in the last seven days, and the kitchen sink was full of dirty plates and bowls. He cursed. There was less than four hours to get everything ready. He was having dinner later that day, and not giving her an opportunity to change her mind. No way.

  This time, nothing would be left to chance.

  He wrote: I’ll pick you up at seven at your place.

  See you then.

  The dinner would be the ultimate test. He’d have to tell her everything in his heart, so she knew this was the real deal, not some temporary infatuation. Mark Pryce did not do temporary infatuation with the love of his life. He’d freaking jump out of an airplane before letting her shed another tear because of him.

  He took a deep breath. He could do this. He so freaking could.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jo showed up at five sharp, hauling seven giant bags of dresses and shoes. “I did the best I could given how little time I had to work with.”

  “Thank you so much,” Hilary said.

  “I’m sure the boutique owners thought I was dressing somebody to meet the President or something.”

  Hilary laughed. “Did they?”

  “Look at all this.” Jo hefted the bags, then squinted at Hilary. “God, your makeup’s a mess.”

  “I know. I tried to fix it, but I keep crying.”

  “Honey, the man loves you. Stop crying and start thinking about all the dirty things you can do with him.”

  Hilary flushed.

  “I can’t believe it. You’re blushing like a sixteen year-old virgin or something!” Jo dumped everything on the bed. “I couldn’t get anything in ivory, which is a shame since it looks so good on you, but we’ll just have to deal. How about this lavender one?” She pulled up a shimmery silk cocktail dress. “The cut is stunning and really shows off your curves. Or we could go more traditional and do something black, but I don’t know about that color and you today.”

  “Lavender,” Hilary said. There was nothing traditional about the way her relationship with Mark had progressed.

  “Great choice.”

  Almost two hours of fussing and styling later, Jo declared Hilary was ready for the showdown. “You’re going to knock him dead.”

  “You think so?”

  “Girl, you look scorching hot. Mark’s going to fall to his knees and kiss your feet.”

  “Thank you,” Hilary said, with real feeling. The dress clung to all the right places, emphasizing her hourglass figure. The diamond drop earrings and necklace completed what she thought of as a classy siren look, and she knew she would’ve never been able to put it together this quickly without Jo’s help.

  Jo gave her a tight hug. “Happy to help out, Hilary. Now go knock him dead.”

  When Hilary went out to the limo, a sharp stab of disappointment hit her at the empty interior. “Where’s Mark?” she asked the uniformed driver.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Rosenberg. He’s waiting for you at his home,” he said in a soft voice. “Shall we go?”

  “Uh…yeah. Sure,” she said. She’d been so certain Mark would pick her up.

  The driver opened the door for her and she slid inside. As the limo pulled out from her place, her palms grew slick.

  She took several deep breaths. This is going to be okay. No matter how things turn out, I’ll be fine. She told herself this over and over so she didn’t bolt from sheer panic.

  * * *

  Ma
rk checked everything a final time. It was all perfect, exactly the way he wanted. His insides were churning the way they always did right before he opened a new restaurant. Except this was an even more important event.

  His penthouse was spotless, thanks to the emergency housekeeping service. Two hundred and fifty orchids had been brought in and the dining area smelled of fresh flowers and exquisite French cuisine.

  The driver called. “I have Ms. Rosenberg.”

  “Good.” Mark placed both hands on the counter and closed his eyes, head bowed. Taking a moment. He hadn’t been sure if she would come until the call. She could’ve always changed her mind, and there would have been nothing he could do about it.

  A few minutes later the driver called again to let him know Hilary was on her way up. Quickly, he finished setting the table. André had done a great job with dinner. He’d been determined to save Mark’s “doomed love affair,” after hearing about the “grand failure” of lunch at Gavin’s home.

  The bell rang. Mark cleared his throat before opening it…and there she stood looking like a vision in a dress that shimmered like mother of pearl.

  “Hey,” she said, her face unreadable.

  “Hi. Come on in.” His hands flexed with the need to touch her, but he controlled himself. He hadn’t waited this long to screw things up now.

  “I thought we were going to a restaurant,” she murmured, taking in the flowers.

  “We are. It’s a new one called Chez Mark.”

  “Ah.”

  “No, I considered it, but decided this was better. More private.”

  She turned and looked at him. A smile ghosted on her lips. “What on earth could you tell me in private that you haven’t said all over the country already?”

  The question threw him. He’d had everything all planned out. They’d wine and dine, chat a bit. He’d tell her how much he loved her again, this time with all the damn eye contact she could handle, so she’d know how serious and sincere he was. Then he’d go on bended knee and propose.

  Except all those things sort of vanished from his mind. He didn’t want to eat—couldn’t, not when he had no idea if she was going to have faith in him and his love. He wished he could pull his heart out of his chest and show it to her…but he couldn’t. So he opted for Plan B.

  He pulled out a velvet jewelry box and hesitated. He knew a lot of great moves, but he had no idea what to do in a moment like this. Before he could lose courage, he thrust it at her, his fingers tight around the box so they wouldn’t shake. “This.”

  The smile vanished, and she pulled her lips in even as her eyes got wide. Finally she said, “Mark… This… I thought this was just dinner.” She blinked away tears. “This isn’t some…game of escalation. You’re just starting to tell me you love me and now…”

  He took her hand, willing her to feel what he felt. “Do you think it’s a game to me? I bared my heart and soul to you in front of the entire country. Do you think I’d do that for a woman I was planning to ditch in three months?”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  “I’m going to keep at it until you tell me to my face that you don’t want me…or else you finally realize I mean it when I say I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t change my upbringing or my past. But I can change my future. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you the way you deserve to be loved.” He dropped to one knee and opened the box, showing her a pink princess-cut diamond ring. It had reminded him of her and what they could have together. “Hilary… Will you take a chance on me?”

  * * *

  Hilary couldn’t stop the tears. How crazy when she’d thought she was cried out already.

  And she wanted to speak but she couldn’t push the words out through the big lump in her throat. So she did the second best thing she could and launched herself at him, dropping to her knees, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a long, deep kiss.

  His strong hands settled on her back and pulled her close. He tasted like the brightest possible future, the future she was always afraid would never be hers because she was a Rosenberg. She wanted to be in his arms forever, kissing him like this forever, but she knew he deserved a real answer. She broke the kiss briefly and whispered, “Yes” against his lips.

  “I thought you’d never say that,” he said, his voice shaky and thick.

  “I was afraid, Mark. I thought maybe you’d wake up and wonder what the heck you were doing with somebody like me, when you could have anybody in the world.”

  “Crazy, crazy woman.” He pressed his forehead against hers, then took a deep breath and put the ring on her finger. It looked perfect, just like their love. “I should spank you for making me as crazy as you are.”

  She gave him a small smile, but there was a gleam in her eye as well. “Is that so?”

  “Well… I guess now I can call off the space shuttle.”

  “Space shuttle?”

  “I was going to launch one…have them fly it in geosynchronous orbit over the city. It was going to be called the Marry Me Hilary.”

  “I haven’t driven you crazy. You were crazy from the beginning,” she said with a laugh.

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures, and all that. If announcing my love for you to the world wasn’t enough, I had no choice but to do it to the solar system.”

  She put her hands on his cheeks and cradled his face. She’d never told any man this, and she wanted him to know she meant every word. “I love you, Mark. I’m the luckiest woman in the entire universe.”

  His gorgeous face split into a radiant smile. “And I’m the luckiest man in the universe. What a perfect pair we make.”

  “So…about that dinner…”

  “Yes?”

  “Think it can wait?” she murmured, gently pulling at his lower lip with her teeth.

  His answer was a soul-searing kiss.

  ——

  Thank you for reading Four Weeks Till Forever. I hope you enjoyed it!

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? Send a blank message to new-from-nadia@aweber.com or go to my website at www.nadialee.net to sign up for my new release alert.

  Coming up next is Merry in Love (Meredith Lloyd & Daniel Aylster). Look for it this winter! (Or—just like above—send a blank message to new-from-nadia@aweber.com or go to my website at www.nadialee.net to sign up for my new release mailing list!)

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  What’s Next?

  Coming up next is Merry in Love (Daniel Aylster & Meredith Lloyd).

  ——

  Uncorrected Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Daniel Matthew Aylster III walked through the barren field in the cemetery. The October air had unusually sharp teeth that bit through his coat—winter seemed overeager that year. But now that he was in northern Virginia again, he felt like he had to pay his respects.

  Despite being outdoors, he felt a bit claustrophobic as the sky hung low, its clouds heavy and sullen. The evergreens added some color, and a man was raking leaves to keep the place tidy, but the dead probably didn’t care.

  Daniel hadn’t been back since his sister’s burial. The memories of Judy still pained him, and he’d done his best to stay out of the country afterward.

  Was there an afterlife? He’d like to believe so, and that Judy was happy…except he was a realist. This life was all there was. He wished there was something he could’ve done to make her happy, but that h
adn’t happened. No, he’d been in Bali, while his sister had died in some hospital with no one but clinically professional people around her.

  When Judy had died, the decision was made to bury her next to their mother in Virginia. Their father had ruined almost everything, but not this. Judy’s spirit—if it existed—was probably happy where she was, and Daniel had made sure her rest wouldn’t be disturbed by having their father next to her.

  Their father was buried in Houston with his parents. It was his death that had brought Daniel back from Europe.

  Daniel stood before the family graves. Judy had only been eighteen, so beautiful, so full of zest and mischief. He could still hear her laugh…and feel her tears. Their father had been an equal opportunist when it came to tormenting his children. Their stepmother had protected her own daughter by sending her to boarding school, but she’d kept Daniel and Judy in Houston to placate their father.

  His hands clenched.

  There was a fresh bouquet of flowers. Bright orange daisies and tiger lilies—Judy’s favorites. Guilt twisted in his gut. He’d never sent anything. It must have been their uncle Claude; he’d loved Judy as if she were his own daughter.

  Daniel turned to go back to his car and bumped into a short, wiry man in his late fifties. “Sorry, sir,” Daniel said.

  “Huh. You’re new.”

  The man had a voice that reminded Daniel of old leather. Daniel looked at him. Gray hair puffed around a faded Redskins cap like cotton candy, and he wore dusty coveralls and carried landscaping tools. “Excuse me?” Daniel said.

  “It’s always the woman who visits,” the man said, leaning on his rake and watching Daniel curiously.

  A woman? Daniel couldn’t think of any woman who might have visited. “You are…?”

  “Ted. The groundskeeper. Been working here since my thirties.” He sniffled. “It’s always the same woman who comes by every month. Thought it was a mother who’d lost her baby, except that’s no baby there.” He gestured at Judy’s grave, then sniffled again. “You best get going. There’s a storm coming. I can feel it in my bones.”