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“Mary, I finally figured out I’ve been going about a whole lot of things wrong. This was one. It’s true I don’t want to be involved day to day in the plant, but I don’t have to be. Andretti will install Junior as the chief executive officer. Mel McKnight, my right-hand mansinceItookoverthecompany,willbepresident, and Mel will have a pipeline straight to me. He and I can make sure Junior doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“AndJuniordoesn’thavetoknowDadwasinvolved at all. Van, that’s brilliant.”
“So will your book be, now that the deal’s back on.”
“Van, the book … I don’t know … ”
Van started to panic. Or was that continued to panic?
“You’re scared,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “You know this isn’t only about the book. It’s aboutus.Youthinkitwillhurtlesstokeeponshutting me out of your life now than it would if we fell apart later.”
Mary opened her mouth to reply, but Van placed his finger on her lips.
“What if I’ve changed? No, make that — I’m trying to change.” He lowered his hand. “What if I want to love you and cherish you and share our lives together with a dozen children until we’re gray-haired and rockingontheporchandwaitingforourgreat-grandchildren to come visit? Can you give me a chance? Can you give them a chance?”
Her lovely face crumpled. Her round, soft arms quivered.Hehopedthatmeanttheywantedtoreach out for him and hold him and never let him go. He stared at her. Willing her to do what he wanted her to do.Willinghimselftodowhathewantedtodo,which was give her everything he was and everything he ever would be. Willing himself to trust her with his soul.
Itwasscary.Noquestionaboutthat.Buthewanted so much to do it, and for the first time in his life, he knew he would. In fact, he already had, just now, in asking for the chance, whether they would come together, or — heaven forbid — not.
Every fiber of his being concentrated on her, the lightandalluring,muskyscentofher,thefainthintof warmth from her, the charged air between them. His eyes focused on her face as he searched frantically for the response he needed with all of his heart.
So, when a puppy skittered between his legs and around, and wrapped — his? her? — leash around his ankle, he wasn’t expecting it. But it gave him an idea. Go for it, kiddo, he urged silently. All of you, go for it.
He smiled beatifically as, one by one, the dogs did.
Ecstatic Guinevere, giving up any pretense of sittingpatientlybesidehermistress,outofbestsniffing range of her mate, lunged for Lancelot. That tightened the leashes and jerked Mary into Van’s waiting arms.
“Ahhh,” he said. “Finally back where you belong.”
She pulled out of his embrace and cursed.
Van snapped his fingers. Lancelot read Van’s mind and took the long way around Van’s legs and launched himself in a flying leap. It plopped him, splayed with ecstasy equal to his lady love’s, on Guinevere’s generous nose.
Between Lancelot’s leash and the one attached to a puppy, Van found himself swaying toward Mary. He didn’t encourage it. Not much, anyway. He wouldn’t have to. The dogs would take care of nudging this inch-by-inch move to where he wanted to go.
While he waited in an agony of slow motion, he examined Mary’s coat, trying to figure out what she might be wearing under it.
He couldn’t stand the suspense.
“What do you have on under your coat?” he asked as innocently as he could while his tongue was figuratively hanging out.
“Not black, see-through lingerie, buster. Stick your tongue back in your mouth,” Mary snapped.
Angry equals rattled. Rattled equals nervous. Nervous equals — what? — maybe worried she might do something she thought she didn’t want to do. Like fall back into his arms?
Van grinned.
Mary blinked.
Wonderful. His smile was blinding her. Great thing, smiles. He’d have to remember to put them on his face more often.
Van added a smidgen to his sway in her direction, but he needn’t have bothered. Guinevere came through at the perfect moment. She sighed happily and hunkered down so her laddie love could sniff his favorite spot.
Guinevere’s leash jerked. Mary lurched. Right into Van’s favorite spot for her, his arms.
He sniffed, because he couldn’t help it any more than Guinevere and Lancelot could. He did manage to resist the valley between Mary’s breasts. He settled for nuzzling the hollow between her soft, sweet shoulder and the graceful, satin column of her neck. She smelled as living and breathing and burgeoning as a sweet, precious Edelweiss on a mountaintop. She smelled like a necessity of life.
“Van, let go and hold still while I untangle us.”
