A Marriage Worth Saving

by Therese Beharrie

  She winked at Jordan before she waddled off, and though that puzzled her Mila jumped into Jordan’s arms the minute they were alone.

  ‘We did it!’ she said, her body sighing in contentment as soon as it touched his.

  ‘We did.’ He pulled back, and the look on his face made her heart thud.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘There’s just something... Actually, I can take care of it myself. I’ll just run up to the house...’

  He was already starting up the stairs by the time she’d processed his words, and in a bit of a panic she followed him.

  ‘Jordan!’ she called when they were far enough from the concert that they wouldn’t be heard. ‘Wait!’

  She was out of breath when she finally caught up with him, and she rested her hands against her knees when she saw that he’d stopped.

  ‘Why wouldn’t you just wait for me?’ she puffed, and then straightened. ‘What’s the problem—’

  She broke off when she saw where they were, and a smile spread across her face.

  ‘You are such a sneaky—’

  He cut her off with a quick kiss, and then grinned as he pulled back.

  ‘Surprise!’ he said, and pushed open the gate to the place where they’d picnicked that very first night.

  A blanket was spread out, just as it had been then, but this time there was a fire burning in the pit that had been created just in front of it. A bottle of Thomas Vineyard red wine was placed next to two glasses, and a variety of foods similar to those he’d had there the first time sat next to that.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she said with a smile as she turned towards him—and froze when she saw him kneeling in front of her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped. ‘I’ve already told you I wouldn’t file the papers.’

  ‘I want to begin our second chance together properly, Mila.’

  The teasing glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by a sincerity that sent a tear down her cheek.

  ‘I can’t live my life without you. I want you—and I need you—by my side for ever. I want to have a family with you, and I want to love you and our family unconditionally. Will you give me the chance to do that?’

  She nodded, unable to speak, and he grinned.

  ‘I’m not done yet.’

  He pulled a ring from his pocket, and her heart skipped when she saw it was the one he’d proposed with the first time. The one she had put in a jewellery box the day she’d received the divorce papers and tried never to think about again.

  ‘Be my wife again, Mila. And not only because we’re still married.’ He smiled. ‘Marry me again.’

  ‘Yes, of course—yes!’ she said, and he slid the ring onto her finger.

  She smiled at its familiar weight.

  ‘I know the perfect time and the perfect place,’ she said, and hooked her arms around his neck.

  He grinned. ‘Me, too. But until then...’

  He kissed her, and she melted against him.

  EPILOGUE

  TWO DAYS LATER, on their second wedding anniversary, Mila stood in a long white dress covered in lace. Lulu beamed at her as she lowered the veil over Mila’s face and dabbed at a tear that had fallen down her cheek.

  ‘I’m such a mess!’ Lulu said with a hiccup, and Mila smiled teasingly.

  ‘The joys of—’

  ‘Growing a life inside you—I know.’ Lulu rolled her eyes and then smiled. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

  Mila laid a shaky hand on her stomach. ‘Me, too.’

  They walked the short distance from the house to the chapel where she and Jordan had made their vows two years before. And although she was wearing the same ring and the same dress as the first time they’d got married, she was a different person. She was someone who was more confident, who only cared about the opinions of those who loved her. And she was standing on her own this time.

  Though she would have done anything to be walking down the aisle with Greg again, being on her own was oddly comforting. It represented the fact that she could be on her own if she needed to. But now she was walking towards the man who had promised her that she would never have to be alone again.

  She didn’t take her eyes off him as she walked down the short aisle, her heart thumping at how handsome he looked in his suit. And then it was just the two of them, standing in front of the altar, making their promises to one another.

  ‘I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life again,’ she began, and tears welled up in her eyes. ‘You have shown me how it feels to be loved, to be needed. You have given me the family I’ve never had. You have helped me grow into someone I didn’t know I could be. Into someone who is willing to hope after hurt, who is willing to open her heart to the possibilities of the future when shutting everyone out would be so much easier.’

  She squeezed his hands, felt the tears run down her face now.

  ‘We have been through the worst of times together. But because I look at you now and see how much stronger you are—we are—and how our love has grown stronger because of it, I know that we can face anything together. And I believe that the best of times are still to come.’

  His eyes gleamed, but he cleared his throat and said, ‘Mila, I am a different man because of you. You’ve helped me unload the baggage I came into this relationship with. And what I have left I know you’ll help me carry.’

  He smiled at her, brushed a hair out of her face, and she leaned into his touch.

  ‘I promise to stay with you through good times and bad. I promise to love you with all that is in me and put our relationship first. You mean the world to me, and I can’t wait to have a family with you. To show our children what love’s supposed to be. No matter what we go through, I will be there for you. Thank you for giving us a second chance.’

  They kissed, and she felt it solidify their promises, their declarations of love for each other.

  As they walked out of the chapel Mila leaned over to Jordan. ‘Do you think this is what your father wanted all along?’

  Jordan smiled down at her, and her heart warmed at the look in his eyes. ‘Absolutely. And I can’t thank him enough.’

  She laughed when he scooped her into his arms, and as she placed her head on his shoulder she knew she was finally living the life she had dreamed of.

  * * * * *

  If you loved this story, don’t miss

  THE TYCOON’S RELUCTANT CINDERELLA,

  the debut novel by Therese Beharrie.

  Available now!

  If you want to read about another

  emotional second-chance romance

  make sure to indulge in

  THE MARRIAGE OF INCONVENIENCE

  by Nina Singh.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from

  HER PREGNANCY BOMBSHELL

  by Liz Fielding

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  Her Pregnancy Bombshell

  by Liz Fielding

  CHAPTER ONE

  Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,

  Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not...

  William Shakespeare

  ‘MIRANDA...’

  Andie Marlowe lifted her coat from the rack, took a breath and fixed her face into a neutral smile before turning to face Cleve Finch, the CEO of Goldfinch Air Services.

  It had been nearly a year since his wife had been killed when the little six-seater she was flying was taken down by a bird strike but his grief was still unbearable to watch. He’d lost weight, his cheekbones were sharp enough to slice cheese and right now the pallor beneath his runner’s tan gave him a jaundiced look.

  ‘Cleve?’

  ‘You’re off this afternoon?’

  ‘I stood in for Kevin last weekend.’

  ‘I wasn’t questioning...’ He shook his head. ‘I just wondered if you could spare me a couple of hours.’

  She did her best to ignore the totally inappropriate way her heart lifted at the suggestion he needed her. He was her boss. He simply wanted her to take on a last-minute job.

  ‘No problem. The ironing can wait.’

  ‘Ironing? It’s Friday. Shouldn’t you be getting yourself ready for a hot date?’ He almost managed a smile.

  She almost managed one back. ‘Men don’t date any more, they just want hook-ups.’

  ‘Men are idiots,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll get no argument from me.’ She’d tried Internet dating in the vain hope that it would take her mind off the only man with whom she’d ever wanted to get naked. It didn’t so she’d stopped. ‘My evening involves nothing more exciting than a darts match in the village pub but if anyone on the visiting team is under fifty I might get lucky.’ She glanced up at the white board on which the flight schedule had been written but couldn’t see any obvious gaps. ‘Has someone called in sick?’

  ‘No.’ He lifted a hand, curled his fingers back into his palm. ‘Imogen called.’

  ‘My sister?’ The sudden heart-pounding obliterated the uncomfortable sensation of being out of control of her limbs whenever she was around Cleve, taking her back to another time when her twin had been the sole focus of her concern. But Immi was fine now, happy, about to be married... ‘Has something happened to Mum and Dad?’

  ‘No!’ He reached towards her and, for a moment, his hand hung in the air between them. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. She called to let me know that the new aircraft...’ He stopped as if the words were stuck in his throat.

  Every instinct was to take his hand, hold it, give him her warmth, comfort, whatever he needed. Before the message reached her brain and she could do anything so stupid he was dragging his fingers through thick dark brown hair that had once been streaked by the sun but was now shot through with silver.

  Cleve’s grief in the year since his wife’s death had been painful to witness. And he wasn’t the only one. The Mayfly, the six-seater aircraft she’d been flying when she died, had been built by Marlowe Aviation, the company started by Andie’s family right at the beginning of aviation. Both companies had wobbled in the aftermath.

  The Air Accident Inquiry had absolved everyone from guilt; it was clear from all the evidence that the aircraft had been brought down by a bird strike. The shocking revelation that Rachel had been in the early stages of pregnancy—something Cleve had kept to himself until the inquest—and the coroner’s suggestion that, since she was such an experienced pilot, nausea or fainting might have contributed to the accident, had made it a double tragedy.

  When the enquiry was over Andie’s mother, fearful that her father would follow their grandfather into an early grave, had insisted he take a complete break and, leaving Marlowe Aviation in the capable hands of Immi and her fiancé, her parents were crossing India by bus like a couple of old hippies.

  Cleve, on the other hand, had not taken a day off since the funeral, insisting that his responsibility was to his staff and Goldfinch, the company he’d built from nothing.

  Andie suspected that deep down he was afraid that if he walked away, didn’t get straight back in the cockpit, he never would. And, once the insurance claim had been settled, Cleve, in the most selfless, most supportive of acts, had ordered a replacement for the wrecked aircraft from Marlowe Aviation. The exact same model in which his wife had died.

  Now her sister had called to tell him that it was ready to be collected.

  ‘I can pick it up,’ she said, quickly. ‘I’ll take the train, stay overnight and fly back tomorrow.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘There are procedures. Engineering checks to sign off.’

  ‘I can handle all that.’

  Andie had a degree in aircraft engineering and would have been in the design office right now if a good-looking flier, negotiating the purchase of one of her father’s aircraft, hadn’t promised her a job if she got her CPL. If he hadn’t sealed his promise with a kiss that’d had her flying without the need for wings.

  Cleve had been wearing a newly minted wedding ring by the time she’d completed her degree and arrived at his office clutching her CPL, but he’d given her a congratulatory hug and kept his promise. His wife, no doubt able to spot her crush from ten thousand feet and used to fending off silly girls, had smiled sympathetically, confident that with her in his bed he was oblivious to such distractions.

  ‘I just need you to fly me up there, Miranda,’ he said. ‘If it’s not convenient just say and I’ll take the train myself.’

  ‘I just thought...’ Obviously this was something he felt he had to do but she wasn’t about to let him go through it on his own. ‘When do you want to go?’

  ‘Now? Oscar Tango is free this afternoon. If the darts team can spare you.’

  ‘They’ll probably heave a collective sigh of relief,’ she said. ‘I was flying home tomorrow anyway. Immi’s been nagging me about...’ Her sister had been nagging her about a fitting for her bridesmaid dress but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. ‘If you don’t mind squashing into my little two-seater?’

  ‘Whatever suits you.’

  He held the door for her as she took out her phone and sent a quick text to her sister to let her know she’d be available for the fitting the next day.

  ‘Is it pink?’ he asked as they crossed to the control office to file a flight plan.

  ‘Pink?’

  ‘The dress.’

  ‘You read my text?’

  ‘I didn’t have to. I received an invitation to her wedding and I imagine she wants her sisters as bridesmaids. The rare sight of you in a dress is almost enough to tempt me to accept.’

  She glanced up at him but the teasing smile that had made her teenage heart stand still was now rarer than a sighting of her in a skirt.

  ‘If it’s pink with frills there’s no way I’m going to miss it,’ he added.

  ‘Please... Not even as a joke.’

  ‘I hope her fiancé has done his duty and lined up a best man to make your day memorable.’

  ‘Portia’s the oldest.’ The glamorous one that not only the spare men but those who were firmly attached would be lusting after. ‘She has first dibs on the best man.’ And if he
was anything like the groom she was welcome to him. ‘Posy and I will have to make do with the ushers.’

  ‘You’re not impressed with your future brother-in-law?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Had she?

  ‘You pulled a face.’

  She lifted her shoulders a fraction. ‘Marrying the boss’s daughter is such a cliché. As long as Immi’s happy that’s all that matters.’ Feeling a bit guilty that she hadn’t quite taken to her future brother-in-law, she added, ‘Dad seems to like him.’

  ‘I congratulate him. Your father has very high standards.’

  ‘Er...yes...’ Talking about weddings with Cleve was too weird and, relieved to have finally reached the control office, she said, ‘Will you go and fuel up for me while I deal with the paperwork?’

  His brows rose a fraction. ‘I’ve never known you let anyone but you touch her,’ he said. ‘You even service herself yourself.’

  ‘I’m cheap,’ she said, rather than admit that he was the only person she’d allow to touch the aircraft her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday.

  The day she’d got her PPL.

  The day Cleve had kissed her.

  ‘Do not drip any fuel on the fuselage,’ she said, taking the keys to the security lock from her pocket.

  She would have tossed them to him but he reached out, wrapping his long, cold fingers around her hand to keep her from turning away. His eyes locked onto hers and she stopped breathing.

  ‘I’m honoured.’

  ‘Make that suckered,’ she said, just so that he wouldn’t think she was going soft. ‘You’ll be using your card to pay for the fuel.’

  She would have turned away but he held her hand for a moment longer until, with a nod, he took the keys and walked away, leaving her normally warm hand like ice.

  * * *

  ‘Do you want to take the stick?’ she asked, out of courtesy rather than any expectation that Cleve would say yes. He wasn’t a back-seat flyer and had no hang-ups about women pilots—he’d married one after all. The fact was, he hadn’t been flying much since the crash.