In the shadowy dimness the construction looked flimsy. The twelve foot width appeared disproportionately narrow compared to the two hundred foot length. He perceived the geometric strength of the criss-crossing iron girders, but she probably focused on all the glass.
Strong as steel, but appearing as insubstantial as nothing at all.
Pouring reassurance into his smile, he ran a few steps forward and bounced around. “No movement at all. It’s as solid as the roadway below.”
“A hundred and twenty feet below,” she read from the sign near the door, voice dry. “Why does knowing that not help? And the bridge roadway splits in half and opens up to let ships through.”
“So this is even more solid.” He spread his arms wide, coming nowhere near touching the ironwork either side of the walkway, then reached a hand back to her.
Cautious as a cat, she tiptoed onto the walkway as if it might collapse beneath her. The relief flooding her face after a few steps was almost comical, but he wouldn’t embarrass her by laughing.
“Okay, you got me up here. Where’s the view you promised?”
A chuckle escaped him at the mock gruffness in her voice. “We’ll get the best view from nearer the centre of the span.” He pointed along the walkway. “Think you can do it?”
She nodded, but grabbed for his hand.
The joined clasp warmed more than their hands. Warmth radiated out from his core, taking the chill off the cool autumn evening.
Her hand trembled a little in his, but she smiled and stepped out. Slowly, letting her set the pace, they walked almost to the midpoint, where the crown ornamenting the outside of the bridge blocked the view.
“Well done. I hope you agree it’s worth it.” Gently he put an arm around her waist and turned her to face out the western windows.
Instead of pulling away as he’d feared, she let him leave his arm there.
“It’s worth it,” she said. But she looked at him, not out the window.
Laughing, he tapped on the glass in front of them, pointing to the view.
No trace of sunset glow remained in the sky. That faded hours ago. One day, perhaps she’d let him bring her up here for sunset.
But the night view was still spectacular. The Thames curved beneath them, not dark as he’d expected but shimmering with reflected light from the buildings lining the banks.
Turning a little, he watched Beth’s expressive face. Her radiance as she stared entranced was a far more spectacular view than any London sight.
She always had been and always would be the most beautiful thing in the world to him.
Chapter 10
Although Beth told herself she only nestled closer to James for warmth in the chill of the unheated walkway, her heart admitted it was more than that.
The comfort of his embrace swaddled her like a cosy, familiar blanket. His steady breath and even heartbeat sang a sweet lullaby.
Surely it wasn’t wrong to treat this evening as a gift from God. Allow herself to enjoy the sensation of his strong arm around her, even though nothing more would come of it.
The metalwork of the bridge made the diamond shaped windows smaller, giving her no choice but to put her head nearer to his to see out. That was her excuse for letting her cheek almost touch his, anyway.
The beauty of London glowing with light came off second best, compared to seeing those lights reflected in James’ eyes.
The hum of distant traffic and the honk of a water ferry drifting up from the river below them didn’t compete with the music of his voice. The mingled American and oh-so-proper British accent she’d always loved.
And breathing in his scent again was bliss after so long apart. The familiar tang of his subtle lime aftershave, the same one he’d used at nineteen.
Excited as a schoolboy, he seemed oblivious to her, apart from that warm arm still solid against her back and his hand resting on her waist. All his attention focused on the view.
His touch made it way harder for her to concentrate on it.
London would still be there tomorrow.
James, she only had for this one evening.
Even so, she looked. The view was something they could share. No fear of the bridge height now. Not with James supporting her.
Beneath and in front of them, the river shone bright in a rainbow of colours, reflecting the lights strung along the banks and on the moored ships and piers. The panorama stretching out either side of them took in everything from the modern City Hall on the south bank to the Gherkin on the north. St Paul’s spotlit dome, gleaming white and dominating the night skyline, drew her gaze most of all.
“It’s beautiful.” A hint of shame coloured her smile. “I don’t know London as well as I should. I commute five days a week, but once work is done I go straight home most evenings. I’ve never been this far east on the river before.”
James grinned. “Me neither. So no point asking you if the Tower of London is always lit blood red at night, or they’ve just done that for Halloween?”
“No point at all. I always thought it was white, but I haven’t seen it at night.”
Craning her neck gave a glimpse of the floodlit medieval towers on the far right. Not her fault that trying to see something so close to the bridge involved leaning back against James’ firm chest.
“I see what you mean. Creepy.” She lifted her dirty, fake-blood spattered dress. “I’d fit in a lot better there than at the wedding reception here.”
James’ expression turned serious. “I’m so sorry about that, Beth. I would never have invited you to come with me if I'd imagined Immy would do this.”
His lip curled. “Sure, there was a scene when I told her that no matter what her mother said, she and I would never marry. But that was ten years ago. We’ve bumped into each other socially since then and I thought it was behind us.”
Beth tensed, biting the inside of her cheek. No avoiding this long overdue conversation, the one they should have had ten years ago.
Simply disappearing was the coward’s way to deal with it. Running home to her parents and trying to forget James had seemed the best solution, but not saying goodbye was wrong.
“She told me you were engaged, that everything was planned.”
He shook his head. “Her mother and my mother dreamed up the idea that Immy and I would marry. Mother wants me to marry ‘the right sort of girl’ for the sake of her family tree. But it surprised even her to find Immy seriously expected I’d follow through on their schoolgirl plans.”
Though the mimicry in his voice as he said ‘the right sort of girl’ made it clear he didn’t share his mother’s beliefs, the words sank Beth’s heart like a stone tossed into the river below them.
He might not value birth and class, but in his world, far too many people did.
And she’d never be part of that world.
He must have seen her expression change, or noticed the slump in her posture. Suddenly looking serious, he turned her to face him, hands gripping her shoulders.
“Beth, I promise you, nothing ever happened between us, despite our mothers’ matchmaking. We grew up taking it for granted that if one of us needed a partner for a do, we’d go together. It went no further than that. As soon as I found out she expected we’d marry, I put her straight.”
He smiled, lifting a hand to gently touch her cheek. “There’s only ever been one girl I cared for.”
A quiver ran through her. Staring up at him, trying to read his eyes, she knew he’d told her the truth about Imogen. James wouldn’t lie.
But Imogen was the least of the barriers between them.
Even if she was the girl he cared for, was that enough?
She’d never ever be ‘the right sort of girl’, the sort of girl his parents expected him to marry, the sort of girl who’d fit into his world and help his career.
Imogen had married Hugo now, but there were plenty of other well-bred, well brought up girls who’d be a far better match for the heir to Tetherton Hall and his
father’s millions than she’d ever be.
As if he read her mind, James shook his head, and his lips twisted in a half-smile. “Hugo stands to inherit a baronetcy. A far better catch for Immy. She’ll be grateful not to get hitched to a plain Mr like me.”
Beth fired up at his self-deprecating tone. “James, you’ve got to be kidding. There’s nothing plain about you. Your PhD makes you Dr Tetherton-Hart. Your research is published in top journals. You’re close to becoming a Cambridge professor at thirty. What’s plain about that?”
He laughed and took her face in both hands. The warm tenderness in his eyes melted her.
“Oh Beth, you’re adorable. I love how indignant you get. I don’t use the title Doctor socially. You know as well as I do it’s poor form to use it outside academic circles. And girls like Immy don’t care for any of that. I’m happy to be doing the work God called me to do. But she wanted me to stop studying, and go make dollars in Dad’s business instead.”
“No. You were born to be a scientist.” Beth shook her head against his hands.
“I truly believe my research can make a difference. But you were the only person close to me who supported me in what I wanted to do.”
His gaze on her intensified and his head dipped nearer. Her tummy quivered, knowing he wanted to kiss her.
She closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and ducked her head. Before anything happened, the question that tormented her for ten years needed an answer. “Something Immy said… you started to explain… I need to know —”
A gentle finger on her lips stilled the words.
“Shhh. Forget the past. Whatever Immy said ten years ago can’t affect us. Look at me, Beth.”
Hands cupping her cheeks, he tilted her face up to his to meet his warm steady gaze.
She didn’t reply. She couldn’t.
All she could do was stare up at James. The world shrank to the two of them. Nothing else mattered.
“I never took Immy for a walk in Tetherton Wood looking for all the wildflowers mentioned in Shakespeare, the way I did with you.”
His voice had dropped to a murmur, and his head dipped lower, until his lips were only inches from hers.
“I never sat by the stream at the old mill reading poetry to her, the way I did with you.”
The whisper of his words breathed soft and low on her face.
Her heart could happily stop beating, as the eternal moment stretched between them, humming with expectancy.
“I especially never did this,” he whispered, his mouth close, so close.
Then his hands tightened on her face and his lips lowered to claim hers, warm and tender and firm and sweet, gently seeking permission.
Her lips opened beneath his. Fingers that had ached all evening with the need to touch him tangled themselves in his thick hair, drawing him closer. Her breath hitched as she dissolved into the sensation, every cell in her body singing with joy.
Thought and common sense vanished. Her questions vanished. All that was in her surrendered to the wonder and the blessing of his kiss.
No matter how wrong his family and friends and colleagues would think she was for him, being in his arms felt right.
There was nowhere else she wanted to be, now or ever.
Chapter 11
James lifted his head, breaking the kiss for a flash of air, and opened his eyes to look at Beth’s lovely face, the face he held so tenderly in his hands.
Her kiss awakened something in him he’d never experienced before, tasting of sweetness and joy and hope.
And something more, a sense of home he’d always missed.
Illogical it might be, but this wasn’t the time for logic or intellect.
The truth was there, in her lips against his.
Now he’d found Beth again, he wanted to drink her in, with his lips, with his eyes, with his hands. Give in to his longing for her, the same longing he'd felt at nineteen, and felt even while they were apart.
Time to stop thinking about what he should do or shouldn’t do, and follow his instincts. God given instincts that made him want to tell the world he’d found the one his soul loved. To hold her, and not let her go.
Thought and intellect and doing what his family expected of him had governed his life for too long.
Now, logic and thinking appeared overrated.
Almost without his conscious intent, his hands moved, tracing her features with his fingertips. The arch of her eyebrows. The curve of her cheekbones. The cute little tip-tilted line of her nose. The soft fullness of her lips. The contour of her chin.
Her long eyelashes quivered as he gently explored her face, but her eyes stayed closed.
Beth was so different to the other women he met.
Half were serious and dedicated scientists, working twice as hard to prove themselves in a male dominated workplace.
The other half, like Immy and her friends, valued nothing about him but his lineage. To them, the only thing that mattered was that he was the heir to both the British Tetherton and the American Hart fortunes. His calling to science and research was an inconvenience or an irrelevancy to them.
Only Beth appreciated who he truly was.
Back in that wonderful summer, he’d told her things about himself no-one else knew. She was the one person he’d ever trusted enough to let down the barriers with.
She’d been too young for more than the deep friendship they shared, and he was willing to wait for her.
Their first kiss had been a long time coming, but it more than made up for the delay.
Dear Lord, please don’t make us wait ten years for our next kiss.
Lifting both hands, he stroked her hair back from her forehead. Sticky powder, part of her ugly Halloween costume, streaked the rich nut-brown with grey, marring its soft sheen.
In jeans and a shirt and sneakers, shiny hair tied back in a thick pony tail, the way she’d dressed last night, she’d looked so much more his Beth. The Beth he’d known at Tetherton Hall.
Cradling her head in his hands, he stared at her as if memorising her every line.
Her delicate eyelids flickered open, showing eyes that held a mix of emotion.
Tenderness, desire, confusion. A hint of fear and uncertainty.
The same uncomfortable emotions he felt. Their kiss laid him wide open and vulnerable, in a way he’d never been before.
If only there was a way to erase that fear from her eyes and from her heart, make her regard herself the way he saw her, the way God saw her. With so much value and worth, ‘her price far above rubies’.
Surely she noticed his longing for her. Emotion so strong must be reflected in his face. He infused his love and respect and need for her into his gaze, willing her to sense it, to understand, and not to turn away.
Her eyes widened, and her breath gave a funny little hiccup. The hint of a hopeful smile tickled the corners of her mouth, and the gold flecks in her brown irises glowed brighter.
Such a sappy romantic cliche, but he really could drown in those eyes of hers, so much like a woodland pool flickered with sunlight.
Her gaze drew him in, closer and closer, until he shut his eyes and bent his head toward her. As his lips found hers again, her arms crept around his back, pulling him near.
Once more, that sense of coming home. With Beth, in her arms, this was where he belonged.
As the blood pounded in his ears and his senses sang Hallelujahs, he let the kiss tell her all those things too difficult to express in words. The kiss lengthened and deepened, stretching infinitely.
Then he knew it was time to stop kissing.
Reluctant as he was to let her go, he had to. He’d rushed things, gone too fast.
Up here alone in the dark, they risked their emotions overwhelming them, tempting them to take things further than they should. The hormones raging through his system and awakening his body considered the kiss nothing but a prelude to deeper intimacy.
They needed to stop, and stop now, before they tested the limit
s of his self-control.
Slowly he lifted his head and drew back, his hands lingering on her shoulders. He couldn’t let her go.
Giving a tiny moan, she pressed her hands against his back. “Don’t stop.”
“We must. I’m sorry.” His voice rasped in an unwilling whisper.
“Not yet.” Soft lips just a tantalising breath away from his, invited him to kiss her again and again.
Saying no seemed almost impossible, when everything in him yearned to ignore that whisper of conscience and keep on kissing, keep on touching.
But staying here and discovering where more kisses led them wasn’t wise. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the temptation, if they did.
The way he felt for Beth threatened to overwhelm both morals and integrity.
“Beth, we must stop this. Now.”
Strengthening his resolve with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he stiffened his back and let his hands slip from her shoulders and drop to his sides.
Letting Beth go was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He didn’t want to, but he had to do it.
Best they found a more public place, lightened things up. What they had was too precious and rare to rush.
But he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long. Once it wasn’t so ridiculously soon after them meeting again, he’d ask her to marry him.
And he didn’t believe in long engagements.
For now, he needed to convince Beth. Ending the kiss was necessary.
“I shouldn’t have let this happen. It was a mistake. Things can’t go any further between us. We should leave and go down to join the others, or I’ll get you on your way home if you prefer.”
His voice came out more harsh and gruff than he intended, but he needed to bolster his determination and stay strong.
Beth seemed to sag into herself. Then her hand lifted to his chest, right over his heart, and pushed him away with a hard shove.
“I get the message.”
Inspecting her, he tried to analyse her angry reaction.
But she looked away, hiding her expression behind a thick veil of hair, giving him no hint of how to respond. She turned on her heel and stomped back along the walkway and into the foyer, face stubbornly turned away.
Love In Store Books 1-3: Collection of three sweet and clean Christian romances with a London setting: The Wedding List, Believe in Me, & A Model Bride Page 7