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The million-dollar question. If only she had a priceless answer.
'Honestly? I want it all. My job, the promotion, you…' She trailed off, hoping he'd fill the void, say something, anything, to give her some indication he wanted this marriage to work as much as she did.
But Nick didn't speak, his lips clamped shut in tight disapproval, leaving her floundering for her next words when she was usually articulate at work.
With her job, she knew what she wanted and knew what to say to get it. She'd nailed pitches other companies craved, had climbed to the top with sheer determination.
Those skills weren't exclusive to marketing and right now she knew what she wanted, and he was staring at her with studied apathy she knew to be a front.
'I know this marriage was a business arrangement at first, but the boundaries have changed.' Taking a deep breath, she made the pitch of her life. 'I want this marriage to work and not because of our deal at the start. We've got something special, Nick, something that time apart hasn't erased, and I know if we give this a chance it can be the best thing to happen to us.'
His expression thawed, his shoulders relaxing as he swiped a hand over his face and she went for broke.
'Whatever it takes to make this marriage work, I'll do it. If it means giving up my job in London and moving here…' She shrugged, shocked by the words coming out of her mouth yet strangely relieved.
She'd voiced a solution, a terrifying, monstrous, life-changing, solution, and rather than being overwhelmed by the enormity of it, her heart expanded, filled with a surprising peace.
Shock darkened his eyes as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. 'You'd do that for me?'
'For us.'
She stood and moved towards him. His eyes widened as she sat on his lap, leaving him no option but to hold her.
'Hell, Red, I don't know what to say.'
'Then don't say anything for now.'
She placed a finger against his lips, yearning to trace the contours but knowing this wasn't the time. Despite his shell-shocked expression he hadn't lost the wariness and she knew he needed time: time to think, to assimilate, to decide.
She knew what she wanted. Her husband needed time to figure out the same.
'Think about it,’ she said. ‘We'll talk later.'
After brushing a kiss across his lips she slipped out of his arms, saddened he let her go but determined to give him the time he needed.
She'd done her best to save their marriage.
The rest was up to him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nick did the one thing guaranteed to blow away the cobwebs of confusion threading his thoughts into a muddled jumble.
He hit the road.
Slamming his visor down, he glanced over his shoulder, let out the throttle and savoured the roar of the motorbike as he pulled out onto the open highway.
It had been way too long since he'd done this. Putting his past behind him came at a price and, while slaving his guts out to make a success of his business had worked, he missed the simple things in life.
Like making pasta from scratch, cooking the rich, creamy sauces Pa had shown him, growing the herbs to complete any good Italian meal, taking off on a whim and riding as far as a tank of petrol lasted.
And he’d missed Britt. He'd missed her more than he'd imagined, hadn't known how much until she'd strutted back into his life.
He’d had the simple life once, but had moved on. For what? Fame? Fortune? To impress a bunch of rich phoneys who hadn't given him the time of day until he'd proven he could be responsible by marrying?
He'd been a fool.
None of it mattered, not anymore.
