by Scott, Inara
A tiny frisson of nervousness tickled the edges of her consciousness when he covered her with his body, the hard length of him pressing at the juncture of her thighs. He seemed to know the moment she tensed, and he stopped, his body hovering over hers.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded and opened her body to him. Eyes fixed on hers, he entered, slowly filling her, leaving no room for doubt or question. When they were fully joined, bodies so intimately meshed she didn’t know where he stopped and she began, he took her face between his hands.
“Can you feel how much I love you?” he asked, his dark brown gaze searching, demanding.
“I can,” she whispered, tears forming in the back of her throat.
“And is it possible you love me too? After all I’ve put you through?”
She nodded, choked with emotion, unable to speak the words.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he said, beginning to move inside her.
She relaxed into him, meeting his thrusts with her hips in a lazy rhythm. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I love you!”
He smiled with satisfaction. “Will you marry me?”
A wave of joy caught the breath in her throat. She was spiraling toward her peak, and he moved expertly over her, grinding their bodies together until she shuddered with pleasure. “I will,” she whispered.
He moved faster, thrust deeper, and she urged him on with her body and her hands, pressing against his buttocks as if she could bring him closer to her core. Then she felt his shoulders tense under her fingers, and he locked his arms around her.
“Come with me, darling,” he said, eyes boring into hers, body moving ever faster.
“Yes!” she cried as he brought her to the edge of her peak and then beyond. She gave him everything in that moment—her heart, her life, her very soul. And when she looked into his eyes, she knew he had done the same, and somewhere a camera snapped, and the picture was sealed forever in her heart.
It was love, and it was beautiful.
Chapter Thirty
The tiny Florence, Oregon bookstore overflowed with people. The doors had been propped open to allow the crowds to form on the sidewalk outside. A microphone had been set up in the small café at the back of the store. A group of women sat in a semicircle around it, many with pads and pens, ready to take notes.
Alix took her place at the front and cleared her throat. It was hard to believe, after all this time, that the day had finally come. “Thanks so much, everyone, for coming to celebrate the release of The Look of Love. As many of you know, I used to live in Desmond, and I still spend as much time as I can there when I’m not working in Los Angeles. I’ve lived a lot of places, but Oregon will always be my home, and there was nowhere else I could imagine celebrating this launch.”
The audience applauded, and a smile broke across Alix’s face. She hadn’t expected how fun this would be.
“I’m really proud of The Look of Love,” she continued, “and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed making it. Now, I’m happy to answer any questions you have, and then I’ll be signing copies for purchase.”
“Let’s see it,” someone called from the back of the store.
There was another round of enthusiastic clapping. Alix held up the enormous book. It was so heavy she could hold it over her head for only a minute before setting it back down on the podium in front of her. Her name—Daisy Alexandra Zahn—sprawled in large letters across the front.
“Is that you and Ryker on the cover?” a woman asked.
Alix grimaced. “Yes. But that wasn’t my idea, I promise. Ryker insisted. I’m still a bit camera shy, but he loved the idea of having us in the book. I used our photo shoot for the final chapter. Our pictures are a bit more…er…discreet than some of the other chapters, but I was really pleased with the way they turned out.”
A heavyset woman in the second row raised her hand. “How did you get the idea for the book?”
“Now that’s an easy one. I always believed in true love, and I wanted to find a way to show people—especially all those skeptics out there—just how real it is. I must admit, I had some trouble finishing the book, but once I knew who would be in the final chapter, things sort of fell into place.” There were a few whistles and appreciative laughter. Alix grinned.
“What are you working on now?”
“Ryker and I are busy with our next film. I can’t tell you much about it yet, but you can expect plenty of action and plenty of passion.”
“Will there be a Look of Love II?”
“Not exactly that, but I’m already starting to take pictures for my next collection of photos. I think this one will be about family.”
She answered questions for half an hour and then signed books until they sold out a short time later. Though small talk and socializing didn’t come easy for Alix, being in a crowded room full of people who loved her work was surprisingly exhilarating—and humbling. After the crowd filtered out, Alix thanked the bookstore owner and drove back to her cottage on the beach.
Rex greeted the car as she turned down the long driveway, barking and jumping at her like a puppy. Then he bounded away to stand beside the tall, lean figure sitting on the sagging front porch. Rex’s stub of a tail knocked against the aging wood as he craned his head around for petting.
Alix slammed the door of her old pickup and pushed her sunglasses up. She threw herself into the waiting arms of her husband, exulting in the familiar thrill she still felt every time he caught her in a tight embrace.
“How did it go?” he asked, pulling back just far enough to study her face.
“Great,” she beamed. “We sold out. I guess we’ll have to get more books next time.”
“I told you so.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Did they ask any tough questions?”
“Nope. I mean, other than, ‘Why isn’t your husband here?’ I didn’t have a good answer for that one,” she said pertly.
He sobered. “I’m sorry. I just thought it was your day in the sun. I didn’t want to muck it up by bringing out a bunch of Hollywood types.”
Alix smiled and then wiggled out of his embrace. “I know. I’m kidding. I appreciate the sentiment, but next time, you’re coming with me. After all, you dragged me on stage when you won the Oscar. In that dress, nonetheless.”
“That was different. You earned that. And you looked hot in that dress.”
She snorted. “Let’s go for a walk.” She grabbed a tennis ball from a stack by the porch and clapped her hands for Rex. He bounded to her side and then looked back at Ryker, cocking his head as if to say, well, are you ready yet?
They started down the dune toward the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge. Alix threw the ball, and Rex raced after it, then almost immediately lost interest and bounded back toward them.
Ryker shook his head. “That dog is a lousy retriever. I don’t know why you bother.”
“He enjoys chasing it.” Alix ran to get the ball and then returned to Ryker’s side before throwing it back toward the dunes. Rex ran after it for a few yards.
“We’ll pick it up on the way back,” Alix said.
They walked in comfortable silence. Ryker’s hand was warm and strong around hers.
“I’m proud of you,” Ryker said unexpectedly.
“Proud of me? For what?”
“For getting out there. For talking about your book.”
She didn’t respond but squeezed his hand in thanks. “Did Rosa call? She should have gotten her copy by now.”
Ryker chuckled. “I could hear her blush over the phone. But she said it was beautiful—and I think she really meant it. Now we just have to keep Hector and Eduardo from getting their hands on it.”
“Maybe it will be good for them. A look at true love never hurt anyone.”
The sky at the edge of the horizon sparkled with the slanted rays of early evening. Alix slid her sunglasses over her eyes.
&nbs
p; “I’m never going to get you to throw those things away, am I?” Ryker asked.
“Nope. Love me, love my glasses.”
He stopped and dragged her into his arms. “First the dog, and now the glasses?”
“Yep.”
He sighed, eyes twinkling. “I suppose you’re worth it.”
“Suppose?” She frowned and stamped her foot on the sand.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?” she squealed.
“They are truly atrocious glasses,” he said thoughtfully.
“Hmph.” She stuck out her tongue at him.
Ryker laughed. “Daisy Alexandra Zahn, my wife, my heart, my love, I adore you and everything about you. I love your dog, I love your jeans, and yes, I even love your horrible sunglasses.”
Alix leaned forward and kissed him lightly, feeling safe, secure, and utterly content in his arms. “You’re a good man, Ryker Valentine.”
“And you’re one hell of a woman.”
About the Author
Inara Scott grew up on a steady diet of romance and happily ever after. Her first novel, penned at the age of 14, was titled A Wild and Stormy Passion and featured a sword-wielding pirate heroine. Today, Inara writes anything and everything, including young adult fiction and adult romance. Rumors of her secret life as a university professor, writing about energy law and economics, also circulate. She does frequent school visits and enjoys teaching writing to students of all ages. Inara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her via her website, at www.inarascott.com, or find her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/inarawrites) or on Twitter (@inarascott).