Strokes of Midnight
Page 21
“Are you through?”
“Not hardly.” He swallowed hard. “I thought that after losing Elaina, nothing, absolutely nothing, would have the power to scare me ever again, but I was wrong. Living without you this past month has been scary as hell for me. I miss you, Becka. I more than miss you—I love you and the thought of living the rest of my life without you in it scares the hell out of me. Say you’ll marry me, Becka, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life coming up with new adventures and new ways to make you happy.”
“I don’t need new adventures. All I want is a fresh start and the dazzling opportunity to be happy—with you.”
“In that case, we’d better get to work. The clock on the screenplay is ticking, and I’m going to need some serious inspiration, in the form of you naked in my bed. I have that suite at the Chelsea through the weekend. You remember it, don’t you?” He slanted her a sexy half smile.
Happy tears welling, Becky nodded. “But I’m not sure I can wait to get there. We just might have to make do with the backseat of a taxi—or perhaps a stalled elevator.”
Max’s arms went around her. “I like the way you think, Miss St. Claire.” He pulled her against him and angled his face to hers.
“Just try to keep up, Mr. Maxwell.” Locking her arms about his neck, Becky leaned into his kiss, feeling as though she’d finally come home.
Reaching for her gown’s side zipper, Max whispered into her ear, “Think of this as the first chapter of the first book in a brand-new series.”
Drowning in his deep blue gaze, she asked, “Will it be erotic romance, mystery or action-adventure?”
Max rolled down her zipper and slid a warm hand inside her gown. “Knowing us, I’d say all of the above.”
Epilogue
Seated across from one another at the linen-draped table, Angelina and Drake clinked champagne glasses. “Good thing we finally got that lot together, eh, Angie?”
Angelina nodded. “Your idea to stage that book launch party was bloody brilliant. It really saved the day—and the plot—from sinking. Without it, I don’t know how we would have budged Becky out of D.C. or Max out of New Hampshire. They’re both so bloody stubborn.” She held out her glass. “Is there any more champers?”
He pulled the bottle of Cristal from the ice bucket and topped off both their glasses. “And no more brilliant than your notion of bringing the Elliot bloke on stage as a secondary character in the final chapters. Seeing him in that New York pub really sharpened the story arc, not to mention opened Becky’s eyes to how much Max meant to her.”
“Quite.” Feeling a kindred spirit with her creator, Angelina smiled back. The dark passion she’d felt for Falco paled in comparison to the rich kaleidoscope of love, partnership and, yes, lust she shared with Drake, her unlikely leading man. The diamond-in-the-rough Aussie adventurer had stolen her heart—no small feat given that until recently she’d existed without one.
He captured her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I venture to say our two creators are going to live happily ever after.”
New soul aside, Angelina shook her head, her curtain of glossy black hair falling back into perfect place around her bare shoulders. “Happily ever after is the closing line for fairy tales, not mystery-erotica novels.”
He lifted a dark blond eyebrow. “You mean action-adventure mystery-erotica novels, don’t you?”
Rather than argue, she let out a sigh. He really was the most impossible fictional male creation—impossible to resist, that was. “The best a novel in any genre can manage is to end hopefully. These days a happy ending is never guaranteed.”
“Is that so?” He took the champagne glass from her and reached for her hand. “There are bloody few guarantees in fiction or in life,” he admitted, pressing her palm to the left side of his chest where his own newly issued heart announced his love for her with every fierce beat. “But when it comes to love, we can pledge to do our very best to love our partners with all our hearts and minds and bodies have to give. Surely we can manage that much at least?”
Smiling into Drake’s earnest eyes, Angelina nodded. “Yes, love, that much we can manage—and perhaps a good deal more.”