by Nina Milne
‘That’s understandable. It’s part of the grieving process.’
‘It was more than that. They left a mess behind them. Turned out their marriage was on the rocks and the family business was so far up the proverbial creek a hundred paddles wouldn’t have been enough.’
He shrugged.
‘I had no idea. I thought they had an idyllic marriage and the business was thriving. It was all an illusion. Tax evasion, fraud, infidelity, wrongdoing … My father was higher than a kite, funded by clients’ money. Women … clients, colleagues, secretaries … he slept with them all. My mother turned a blind eye for the money, but the money was running out so she was filing for divorce. It was all very … complicated.’
‘Oh, Joe.’
Her face was scrunched up in compassion as she twisted her body to face him, placed her hand on his thigh, her touch so warm, so right.
‘I can’t begin to imagine how confusing, how incredibly emotional it must have been for you. To have all your memories twisted—and you couldn’t even ask them why. No wonder you decided the best way forward was no complications.’
He shifted his body to face her, amazed at how easy, how right it felt to share.
‘All I wanted was to sort it all out, look after the twins and make sure I never let complication into my life again. So that’s what I did. Then I met you and you changed everything; you’ve shown me how to feel again, to care, to love, and I don’t care how complicated it is. I’ll become the man you want me to be, Imogen, if I have to try all my life long. Give me that tick-list and I’ll do my best.’
‘No!’
The word hurt, slammed into him like a cannonball. But then she shifted along the bench, her warmth right next to him.
‘There is no tick-list,’ she said. ‘I’ve shredded it and burnt the scraps.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you made me see what a stupid idea it was. How can someone conform to a tick-list? I tried to do that. For Steve. I tried to make myself fit his list and the result was a nightmare.’ She laid her small hand on his thigh. ‘I can so see why you closed down after your parents died. I didn’t close down, but I built myself a comfort zone and I was too scared to leave it—too scared I’d repeat my parents’ mistakes, too scared I’d be like my father and fail. Meeting you changed that, made me see how exhilarating it is to push the boundaries and go for what you want.’
She smiled at him—a smile that lit up his world.
‘I’ve been accepted at art school.’
Happiness for Imogen and the world opening out to her warmed his chest. ‘That’s amazing news, sweetheart.’
‘It all started from that art class. Mike, the lecturer, made me promise to keep in touch and he really encouraged me. He’s been so supportive and …’
Jealousy and pain tackled him at the same time, twisted his gut with a hurt he knew he had to conceal. ‘So … you and this Mike guy …?’
‘No! Don’t be daft.’
Blue-grey eyes widened as she stared at him.
‘Oh, Joe. Don’t you get it? I love you.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, I do. Every bit of you—from the spikes in your hair to the tips of your toes. I love how you’ve made me strive to live the dream, the way you make me feel protected and like I can do anything. I love how you talk about your sisters and I love how you give one hundred per cent of yourself to what you do. I just love you. Full-stop.’
He grinned at her, his heart full with the sheer joy of hearing the words. ‘One thing you should know, though …’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’m expecting plenty of lustful goings-on in our marriage, whatever you think.’
In one fluid movement she landed on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. ‘Well, Mr McIntyre, that’s lucky—because I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ Then she froze. ‘Did you say marriage? You mean …?’
‘If you’ll have me. Imogen, I can’t imagine anything better than being your husband and waking up every morning with you in my arms. I want it all—white picket fence, kids, the lot.’ He pulled her closer, his arms round the slender span of her waist. ‘Because what we have, Imogen, is way more than lust. We have liking and respect and love.’
She nodded. ‘I know. That’s why these past two months I’ve missed you so damn much. Talking to you … laughing with you. I’ve missed the way you need that first cup of coffee, the way your hair spikes up. I’ve missed your scowl and your smile. Your touch, your taste, your smell.’
‘I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. I’ve spent weeks trying to stick to Rule Three and not look back. But you—you’ve haunted my days and my nights. I’d wake up in the night and swear I could feel your hair tickling my chin. So many memories … I couldn’t stop looking back, though God knows I tried. Filling my days with work and …’
‘Your nights?’
‘My nights were filled with fantasies of you. I love you, Imogen Lorrimer. You’ve made me see love can be real. Not an illusion. So, Imogen, if you want me in your life I oh, so definitely want you in mine. For ever. Will you marry me?’
‘Absolutely, Joe. I am all yours. For ever.’
He smiled a smile that lit her world—a smile that made her feel like the most beautiful, wonderful, desirable woman in the world. A smile that spoke volumes, spoke of everlasting love and all-encompassing joy.
‘Then let’s live the dream, Imogen. Starting now.’
EPILOGUE
Dear Diary
In case you’ve forgotten me, as I’ve neglected you shamefully over the past few months, my name is Imogen Lorrimer—until tomorrow, when I will become Imogen McIntyre. Because tomorrow I am marrying Joe McIntyre, who I no longer have to dream is in my bed because he has taken to making a regular appearance there. Naked.
I love him.
Think sexy rumpled hair. That I love to run my fingers through. Think chocolate—the expensive kind—brown eyes that gaze at me with love in their depths. Oh, and a body that I plan to worship for the rest of my life.
Joe is kind and loving and altogether perfect. He has taken up surfing again and, believe me, watching Joe on a surfboard is a privilege. He’s thinking of setting up some sort of surf school for teenagers in the future. Our long-term plan is to move out of London and settle in Cornwall—though first I want to finish college.
Which is utterly amazing—and Langley has been fantastic at being flexible so I can work and attend college. Mum is way happier about the whole art college scenario now I am marrying Joe. In fact I don’t know how he’s done it but he’s even charmed her into admitting one of my pictures was ‘not bad’. Which from Mum is a compliment of the highest order.
Dad has found work in an art supply shop, and whilst he still spends all his spare time in his studio, I have the feeling Mum and Dad are getting on a little bit better.
Holly and Tammy are fantastic—it’s like having the siblings I always dreamed of. They are going to be bridesmaids, with Mel as chief bridesmaid. So, you see, life could not be better.
Tomorrow, dear diary, I will be walking down the aisle towards Joe, and I know with all my heart and soul that this is the man I will love for the rest of my life. And that he will love me right back.
For ever
Night-night
Imogen xxx
ISBN: 978-1-472-01794-9
BREAKING THE BOSS’S RULES
© 2014 Nina Milne
Published in Great Britain 2014
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited
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