Trusting Jack

Home > Other > Trusting Jack > Page 22
Trusting Jack Page 22

by Hale, Beth


  “Sounds great.”

  “My place, five o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead, a longer one on her lips, and left to kill Edward II.

  Emma watched as Roger argued, pleaded, and finally resigned himself to die. He raised the cup to his lips, drank, and dropped to one knee. “The king is dead,” he gasped. “Long live the king.” He slumped to the floor and was still.

  “Cut! One more time.”

  And finally, Emma held her breath when Jack and Norah were cued for the final scene.

  “It is finished, Mother.” With a haunted look on his face, Jack sank to his knees and buried his head against Norah’s stomach.

  She ran a hand over his head in a gesture of

  comfort. “Rise, my son,” she urged him. “You are

  now truly King of England.” She stepped back, sank

  into an elegant curtsy. “I am yours to command,

  Majesty.”

  “And cut!” Thomas paused, then yelled, “That’s a wrap!”

  With a whoop, Jack grabbed Norah and did an impromptu dance across the set.

  Emma laughed delightedly. “Well done!” she called out. “Bravo!”

  After rounds of hugs and handshakes, Thomas announced, “Party. Tomorrow night, Tristan’s. Let’s send it out in style,” he grinned, “before editing begins.”

  Chapter 46

  “I’m impressed,” Emma said. She twined pasta around her fork, took another bite.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Not just the food,” she replied, “even though it’s delicious. Everything. It’s perfect.”

  Jack had kept the lights low, added dozens of candles. He’d scattered vases filled with roses throughout the house and their scent perfumed the air. He had a bottle of champagne chilling and it was almost time for desert.

  He was going to pop the question after that. He was nervous now. Extremely. If she said no, he’d just die.

  “Desert?” he asked.

  “Of course. What is it?”

  “Pears poached in red wine with mascarpone on the side.”

  She stared. “You made that?”

  “Well, no,” he admitted sheepishly. “James came by and made it for me. He snuck in the back while we were eating.” He went to fetch it and to make sure James wasn’t lurking in the kitchen.

  She goggled when he came back with the plates. “James made this?”

  Jack grinned. “One of his many hidden talents.”

  “It’s phenomenal. Now I’m doubly impressed.”

  Jack poured two glasses of champagne with hands gone damp with nerves. His legs felt weak.

  It was time.

  He sat both glasses beside Emma’s plate and

  reached into his pocket. He waited until she raised her

  eyes to his with a puzzled smile.

  Her breath caught when he went to one knee and opened the ring box. Her hand fluttered to her throat.

  “I love you, Emma, with all that I am. I want you to be my wife. I want to give you a fairy tale, a happy ever after. Will you trust me with your heart? Will you be my wife?”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she began to tremble. “Oh, Jack, Jack. Yes. I do, I will. I love you.”

  His own hands shook as he slipped the ring on her finger. “It fits,” he managed.

  “Because it’s right, we’re right.”

  He pulled her to her feet and kissed her, slow and sweet. Then he scooped her up and carried her to his bed.

  Chapter 47

  They finally walked hand in hand into the VIP room at Tristan’s, looking decidedly rumpled and grinning like idiots.

  “Looks like you two partied already,” Norah remarked dryly.

  “Oh, you know how it is.” Emma waved her left hand airily. “A little food, a little champagne. A little after-proposal sex.”

  “After—“Norah spied the ring and pounced on Emma’s hand, squealing like a ten year old girl. “Oh, my God! It’s gorgeous! That’s some serious bling,” she told Jack with a grin. “Good job.” She hugged him, and then snatched Emma into a tight embrace. “It’s beautiful!”

  “It is, isn’t it?” She wiggled her finger and the ring sparkled. Everyone crowded around, offering congratulations. “It’s antique,” she told them happily. “Commissioned in 1884 by Lord William DeVane for his bride, Mary. It’s been handed down, and Lady Cecily inherited it. But she passed last year, and there’s no one left. Which is sad, but now it’s mine. And I love it.”

  “James was right,” Jack commented wryly. “She loves the history more than the ring.”

  “Do not,” she retorted. “It’s just interesting.”

  “I thought I’d have to drag her off of him when we stopped by his place on the way here. She latched on like a leech and went on and on about his culinary skills. Made me think twice.”

  “Shut up. I love a man who can make a fabulous desert.” Her eyes melted when she looked into his face. “I love you.”

  “Looks like we’ve got a lot to celebrate,” Alison said. “I’m going to get my party on.” She kissed them both and led Jacob onto the dance floor.

  Emma walked with Norah to the bar and ordered champagne. “Mama cried,” she told her. “Great big sobs, and demanded we come see her.”

  “When will you?”

  “Jack said he’d clear everything on his schedule and change my ticket. So we can leave Sunday. After that, we’re going to New York so I can show off my bling to Chris.” She wiggled her finger again and grinned. “He’ll be jealous.”

  Norah sipped. “I’m happy for you, Emma.”

  “I’m not leaving you. I still want to be your assistant.”

  “Friend first, honey. But I’m glad you’re going to stick around.”

  “After New York, he’s taking me to Rome.” She sighed dreamily. “My fairy tale is coming true.”

  Norah smiled in response as Jack walked up and slipped his arm around Emma’s waist. “Dance with me.”

  Emma nodded and drifted into his embrace, knowing this was the first night in a lifetime of happy ever after.

  ∞

  About the Author

  Beth has always had a passion for the written word. When she’s not working at her day job as an E911 dispatcher, you can find her busily writing. Trusting Jack is her first novel.

  Beth lives in a quiet town in Mississippi with her husband, children, and a variety of pets. She is currently working on her next project.

  You can connect with her on Facebook (Beth Hale-Author) and on twitter: @BethHale224

 

 

 


‹ Prev