The Love in Duet Collection, page 63
He nudges me. “You angling for a job now?”
I laugh. “No. But it reminded me that I like striking deals and doing market analysis, and not to blow my own trumpet, but I’m also quite good at it.”
“You’re tops at what you do.”
“Thanks.” I scrub a hand across my chin. “I think I’m going to keep doing it.”
He squints in question. “So you do want a job?”
“No. I believe I’ve just made myself a consultant.”
“Ah, so this is what retirement looks like? Working your arse off?”
“I’d hardly say consulting is working my arse off. In fact, I think it’s the perfect balance. I don’t get too consumed by it, but it gives me the chance to keep my feet wet. I’ll do a little translation, and I’ll do a little high-level consulting, especially for companies looking to enter new markets.”
“I think that sounds brilliant.”
“And that brings me to my other point.”
He tenses. “What’s that?”
It’s not his fault that everything with Elise went tits up, but I need him to know the score. “First, I wish you’d have told me before you made your deal with Jandy.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I thought you might talk me out of it because of how much money I’d lose by paying her off,” he says, a note of guilt in his voice. “And I was determined to go through with it.”
“I get it. I do. I still wish you’d have told me, because I wouldn’t have tried to talk you out of it. I wish you knew that.”
“You wouldn’t have?”
I laugh. “Of course I wouldn’t have. It’s your choice. I understand why you did it. Why you needed to. It’s your heart and your life. And I’m proud of you for finding a way to move on.”
He smiles. “Thanks. It’s been total shite, but this is the best I’ve felt in more than a month.”
We both stare at the river for a bit, then I turn to him again. “There is one little matter, though, that ticks me off a bit.”
“What’s that?”
“I really wish you hadn’t told Elise I didn’t love her.”
His eyes bug out. His jaw falls open. “What?”
“Because that’s actually the complete opposite of the truth. I’m pretty much madly in love with her, and now she thinks I don’t love her, and I have no clue if she might love me back. But seeing as I helped you sort out your love life, it’s time for you to help sort out mine.”
He frowns. “I’m so sorry my big mouth fucked things up.”
“It’s okay. I know you meant well.”
He shakes his head. “I’m a bit of a clueless jackass sometimes. But I can also be a determined bastard when it comes to fixing my mistakes.” Erik smiles. “I like Elise. I like her a lot. Let’s get your girl back.” He rubs his palms together. “What’s the plan?”
Laughing, I say, “I don’t know. That’s why I rang you. To devise one.”
He furrows his brow, but a minute later, he offers a fantastic idea.
39
ELISE
“That was great. Thank you so much for making all this time,” Nate says the next day as he walks me to the elevator banks at his offices in Midtown.
“I’m so excited to get started. These meetings were invigorating. We’ll have materials to show you within a week.”
“Can’t wait.”
We say goodbye, and I shoot down to the ground floor, delighted the partnership is starting so well. Even when I leave, I hold my chin up high, determined to enjoy my time in New York. Two days of meetings have been exhausting but energizing.
As I walk up Fifth Avenue, I feel the pull of Central Park, but I’m going to heed another call. That of friends. Last night I fired off emails to some of my favorite women in the city, and I’m meeting them at a bar called Speakeasy.
I reach the establishment, push open the door, and find my redheaded friend Nicole waiting for me. She waves me over. “You’re back!” she shouts as she pulls me in for a hug.
“Not to stay, but for now.”
She punches my arm. “C’mon. New York is way better than Paris. Don’t you want to move here?”
I laugh. “And the campaign to have me relocate begins.”
“New York is awesome. We need you here.”
“Yes, we do.”
I turn in the direction of the new voice. It’s Abby, a tiny little blonde I adore. I hug her too. “My New York girls.”
After we order, I tell them I require chapter and verse on where they’re at with their husbands and children.
“My little angel is finally sleeping through the night. Only took eight months and three weeks to reach that glorious milestone,” Abby says, then bats her eyelids as if she’s falling asleep.
Nicole pats her knee. “Sleep is the new sex, isn’t it?”
Abby laughs. “Yes, but am I greedy to want both sleep and sex?”
I raise a glass. “I see no reason you shouldn’t have it all.”
Nicole weighs in. “My oldest is finally at nursery school, and he’s already an incorrigible flirt.”
“Well, he is adorably handsome,” I say, since her four-year-old son is the cutest creature on earth.
I dip my hand into my purse and grab two pretty pink bags wrapped with ribbon. “If sleep is the new sex, then candy is the new wine.”
I give them their gifts from Paris, a mix of Veronica’s favorite sweets from her shop. “But don’t share with the kiddos. Those are just for the moms.”
Nicole clutches her bag to her chest. “Mine, mine.”
It’s only when I say goodbye, with hugs that could go on for days if I let them, and promises to return again soon, that I feel that pang again. That ache that reminds me that I still want a little more.
Actually, I want a lot more.
I stroll up Fifth Avenue. Good thing I changed into flats after my meeting. When I turn into the park, my phone rings.
Quickly, I grab it, and answer the call from my brother.
“Hey there,” he says.
“Hey to you.”
“Do I get to see you again before you leave?”
“Of course,” I say with a smile. “I fly back tomorrow, but I’m free tonight. I’m heading to Central Park now.”
He laughs. “Let me guess. The Conservatory Garden?”
“However did you know?”
“Perks of being the big brother. You learn all the habits.” He clears his throat. “I need to finish something at work, but I can meet you there in an hour and a half. Does that work?”
“It’ll take me time to walk there, so that’s fine.”
When I reach the gardens, it feels like coming home. I breathe in deeply, inhaling the scents of the Japanese lilacs, the purple cornflowers, and the hydrangeas. I grab a spot on a bench by the fountain and savor the sights.
My heart squeezes tighter in my chest. It beats harder. It wishes for someone.
For one person.
Yes, I am happy without him. But I’d be happier with him.
A Scentsual Woman
Blog Post
Today
Cliff-diving in a field of flowers
My lovelies . . .
Here I am in Central Park, inhaling the glory of the gardens. Summer is in full bloom, and all my favorite scents envelop me. I devour the royal purples, the gentle pinks, the blazing yellows, and I drink in the smells of the season wafting around me. This is a flower-lover’s paradise, and when I’m here, I’m convinced it is heaven for the senses.
For the sights, especially, and the smells.
And for the heart. I’ve always felt at home here, ever since I was young. When I visited these gardens, I felt as if I belonged to them. I didn’t feel that kind of belonging again until I moved elsewhere, to another city around the world.
And I felt it one other time too.
With a person—one particular person. It’s only with him that I feel as if my wild heart has come home.
Time to jump off the cliff.
Yours in noses,
A Scentsual Woman
I hit post, and then, with excitement zipping through me, I call Christian so I can tell him to read it. I’m jumpy and restless, but it’s not from nerves. It’s from possibility. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate, even if he doesn’t want the same things I do, I have to take this chance.
For me.
I wait for the phone to connect. It rings, and it rings, and it rings.
Like it’s getting closer.
Footsteps crunch across the stone path, and I snap my gaze their way and drop the phone.
40
CHRISTIAN
Her phone hits the path with a clatter. Her eyes widen, zeroing in on me as I close the distance, bend to pick up her mobile, and hand it back to her.
I smile because I can’t not. She’s here. Her brother deserves a medal for telling me where to find her, and for keeping her in one place until I could arrive. She takes the phone, drops it in her purse, and blinks. “You’re here?”
“I’m here.”
“Why?”
I step closer, cup her cheek, and run my thumb along her jaw. “I came here to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Her voice is like a feather.
“My brother doesn’t have a clue how I feel. Well, now he does, since I set him straight.”
She nibbles on her lip. “What did you set him straight about?”
“I do like you. He was right about that,” I say, since a part of me can’t resist having fun with the woman I love. “But he was wrong about the rest of it.” I raise my other hand and hold her face in my palms, taking a moment to gaze into her beautiful brown eyes. They shine with a look that feels so familiar—because it matches my own heart. “I am in love with my wife.”
She gasps and shudders at the same time. “I’m in love with my husband.”
And this, right here, is why I flew across an ocean. Why I took this chance. Elise sneaked up on me. I thought we were only fun and games when we started, but then, unexpectedly, she took my heart. She can keep it. She’s the only one who gets to have it. “Then, I really should kiss my bride.”
She laughs and whispers, “Yes. Please. Now.”
I kiss her softly, brushing my lips over hers, savoring what feels like a first kiss. Taking my time, I breathe her in. I linger on her mouth. I want to remember this moment, when everything has finally been said. Our kisses, our touches have always felt real, but now we’ve sealed our kisses with words.
She kisses me back with such desire, such love that it erases any earlier concerns I had about whether this trip would be worth the risk. She is worth it. She is the risk and she is the reward—the reward I want every day of my life.
When we separate, I press my lips to her forehead. “I thought you were going to break my heart.”
Laughing, she wraps her arms around my waist and tilts her face to me. “Why would you think that?”
“Maybe because I wanted you so much from the start. You nearly did break me. I thought you wanted it to be over.”
“God, no,” she whispers, desperately.
“Yeah?”
“I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
“Because of my brother?”
She shrugs and nods. “Yes.”
“He meant well. But he didn’t know the truth. The truth is I’ve been falling in love with you since the day you agreed to marry me. In fact, I’m pretty sure the first time we slept together, I was already making love to you.”
She trembles, and a flush crawls up her neck. It’s so alluring, and I want to kiss her all over. “When you came back from London . . .”
The memory of that night blazes before me. “The club, you mean?”
She nods. “I knew it then. I felt it then. That night, our connection—it was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Me too, and it wasn’t just the sex.”
She nods and dusts her lips across my jaw. “I know. It was so much more.”
“It can be more. It can be more forever, Elise.”
She pulls back and gives me a quizzical look, and that’s when I finish what I came here to do. I drop down to one knee and take the box from my pocket, flipping open the lid.
She shrieks and clasps both hands to her mouth.
“Will you stay married to me?”
Her answer comes swiftly. “Yes.”
She joins me, pushing me to sit as she climbs on my lap, wraps her arms around me, and smothers me in kisses. “I want to be Mrs. Elise Ellison for always.”
I laugh as I tug her close, pressing kisses along her neck. “You never took my name, sweetheart.”
“I will now.”
I pull back to meet her eyes. “You will?”
She nods. “I want to.”
“Do you want your ring?”
“Yes, please.” She holds out her hand, and I slide a diamond ring next to her wedding band.
She sighs, and it’s a beautiful sound. It sounds like happiness. It sounds like everything I never expected from this marriage of convenience that’s now like air to me. Her.
“I love it, and I love you, and I want you to read my blog,” she says.
“You wrote a blog post?”
She nods, grabs her phone, and shows me a post from fifteen minutes ago. As I read it, my smile can’t be contained. I point to the screen. “You posted that as I was walking over to you?”
She nods and grins like a fool. “I did.”
I give her a look. “Elise, admit it.”
“Admit what?”
I point from her to me. “This is fate. We’re fate.”
She laughs. “Yes. I believe in fate. But mostly I believe in you.” She plants a searing kiss to my lips that makes me want to do very dirty things to her.
I grip her hips, lift her off me. “Let’s go to your hotel.”
We leave the park and hail a taxi.
“By the way, how did you find me?”
“I tracked down your brother’s number and asked him to find out where you were. He seemed quite eager to make sure you’d be here to meet me.”
She laughs. “I’m so glad it was you instead of him.”
I run a finger over the hollow of her throat, touching her new Eiffel Tower charm. “We need to get you a necklace for the gardens now. You don’t have one. Do you need a flower charm?”
She shakes her head and holds up her hand. “I have a diamond instead.”
We waste no time when we reach her room. Clothes come off at record speed, and our bodies become reacquainted with each other. It’s only been a few days since I’ve seen her, but it’s been too long since we’ve touched.
When I climb over her, and she raises her arms to loop them around my neck, I look into her eyes. “I want to make love to my wife.”
She doesn’t say yes. She doesn’t say, “Make love to me.” Instead, she says, “Consume me.”
And I do. That’s how I make love to her. Like there’s a fire inside me, and the only way to quench it is to have her. To take her. To bring her to the edge of pleasure again and again.
I lose track of time. I lose track of her orgasms. She twines around me, her skin hot, her eyes glossy. My hands tug on her hair, and my lips crush hers, my teeth nipping at her neck, her earlobe, her jaw. The sounds she makes send me into another realm. My mind is a blurry haze of desire and love and passion.
And at last, after we come together one final time, I pull her close and whisper in her ear, “I love you. I’ve wanted to say that for so long.”
She runs a hand down my chest. “I love you. And I feel like I belong to you, and you belong to me.”
“That sounds about right. There’s something pretty spectacular about falling in love with your wife.”
A little later, after I rummage through the hotel fridge, I announce that we must go out to eat. “I’m starving, and I can’t subsist on peanuts.”
We dress and head outside on a summer night in Manhattan. “Show me around New York City, Mrs. Ellison.”
She does, and we extend our trip, staying for the weekend, enjoying the sights. I introduce her to Oliver since he’s back in the States again, where he lives. He takes us all to a fantastic bar in Chelsea. Gin Joint is jumping, and Oliver seems to have commandeered an entire corner with his friends, and one of his cousins on the other side of his family, a bloke named Jason who’s from London and works here now. It’s a veritable crew of Brits and Americans, but Oliver quickly loses interest in us when the pretty blonde walks in.
He waves her over. “Summer, I thought you were ghosting us.”
“Ghosting you? Never,” she says, then introduces herself before she sits next to him.
Pretty soon, he’s enrapt in some conversation with her about whether the fries from this place are, as he puts it, last meal worthy, and she’s laughing, and telling him he’s crazy.
I lean back in my chair, put an arm around my wife, and whisper, “He has no clue that he’s mad about her. But I bet he’ll figure it out so very soon.”
“I bet he will too,” she says.
Then, I kiss my bride.
The next day, I meet her brother and his wife and kids, as well as her parents, since they’re back in town after a holiday. We get along fantastically.
So well, in fact, that I make sure they know that when they’re in Paris next month, we want them at our wedding.
EPILOGUE
Elise
Twilight drapes over Montmartre. Strings of flickering lights hang from the iron posts that hug my courtyard.
That’s all I have for my wedding decorations, and that’s all I want. With the soft light fading above us in the sky, and the curving cobbled street beyond the front yard, this is the ideal setting.
Christian taps a spoon against a champagne glass, and all our guests quiet down. I stand next to him at the top of my steps, my arm around his waist. “Thank you so much for coming today and for joining us as we tie the knot again,” he says.
