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“Don’t sound so surprised. I love you.”
He kissed her then, his mouth warm and firm, yet gentle. It was as if he put all his love into that kiss. Warmth washed over her and through her, heating her from the inside.
“I want to be wherever you are,” he said. “It’s not about location. It’s about you and me. I’d do anything for you, Jayne. Just tell me what you want.”
Talk about impossible to refuse, she thought, as she flung herself to him and hung on, vowing never to let go. The enormity of what he was doing stunned her, as did the proof of his love.
“You’re the best man I’ve ever known,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She laughed, then found herself crying, then kissing him because that made the most sense.
“You’ll marry me?” he asked after a few minutes. He was already guiding her back toward the bedroom.
“Yes.”
“In Dallas?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Good.” He grinned and pulled the diamond engagement ring out of his pocket. “This is for you. But only if you promise to take your clothes off.”
She laughed. “I seem unable to tell any Worden no.”
“Lucky me.”
Rebecca drove around the city until she was lost. As Los Angeles covered hundreds of square miles she’d never explored, that didn’t take long. The streets got more narrow, the houses smaller. There were beat-up cars on blocks and graffiti covering houses.
Every few miles she made random turns, not sure where she was going or what she would do when she got there. She only knew she couldn’t go home.
Her phone rang again, but she didn’t answer it. Only one person called these days. Her mother. Elizabeth wanted them to live together in the Worden house and have part of it converted to a studio where Rebecca could work. Elizabeth wanted to take over her marketing, to run the Rivalsa brand, as she had taken to calling it.
David and her father had left nearly two weeks ago, for Dallas, of all places. Elizabeth had told her. They were moving the whole company there and settling permanently. Marjorie Danes had gone as well. Blaine had given Elizabeth permission to live in the house in Beverly Hills. He was being financially generous in the divorce, something that made Elizabeth both grateful and bitter.
Neither her father nor her brother had called her, Rebecca thought sadly. Blaine had sent her a brief e-mail telling her that she was no longer a part of the new line of jewelry, but that Worden’s would be happy to keep selling her more expensive pieces. Lucky her.
She hadn’t heard from Nigel, either. He’d been scared away by whatever threats Blaine and David had delivered. Or perhaps Ariel had been the one to push him into line.
But of all of them, the person she missed most was Jayne. She knew her friend was gone and didn’t think there was any way to get her back. She’d lost Jayne because she’d been stupid and selfish and mean. She’d been a horrible friend. Worse, she’d hurt the one person who had always mattered the most.
At the next intersection, she saw a small church off to the right. She noticed it because it was freshly painted in a neighborhood of dull and broken buildings. There were flowers in front, and a sign posted in the grass welcoming everyone to a list of activities.
Between choir practice, Bible study, the women’s group, teen challenge, and regular services, the church was a busy place. Impulsively, Rebecca turned into the lot and parked her car.
There was a group of boys playing basketball. They stopped and stared at her for a few minutes, then one of the smaller kids ran inside. Rebecca hoped she hadn’t scared him. She just needed a minute to figure out what to do next.
She could go back to Milan. She liked Italy, had always been able to work there. But the thought of creating anything seemed impossible. It was as if all the fire inside of her had burned away. She felt guilty, but she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. She felt alone, and there were people everywhere. It was as if she’d somehow mislaid her life.
Someone tapped on the glass. She looked up into a man’s face. His brown eyes were kind.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She rolled down the window. “Is this your church?”
He smiled. “It’s God’s church, but I take care of it for Him. Who are you? Are you lost?”
“I think so.”
