by Helen Brooks
‘No, no, it’s not fair.’ She shook her throbbing head, willing herself not to cry any more, but suddenly it felt as though there was a never-ending flood of tears. ‘I’m…I’m too frightened to try, Slade. Too scared to think I can trust you, that it’s going to work. I can’t…I can’t believe any more.’ She looked at him with drowning eyes.
‘Then I’ll believe for both of us until you can.’ He kissed her gently on the mouth, his lips warm and firm. ‘I’m not going to let you go, Daisy, not now I’ve found you. I don’t care how long it takes or what I do, but you’re going to be my wife. And we are going to be happy—more happy than you would ever imagine we could be. That’s a promise.’
‘I can’t—’
‘And that’s the last time you say that.’ His voice was suddenly grim. ‘I forbid you to even think in the negative.’
‘I’ll make you miserable,’ she said tremulously.
‘You won’t,’ he assured her softly, ‘but, even if you did, being miserable with you would be more glorious than being happy with someone else.’
‘Oh, Slade.’ The way he had said it made her smile and he caught it with his fingertip, his eyes very dark as he said, ‘That’s how it’s going to be, Daisy; I’m going to make you smile, I’m going to fill your life with laughter and make up for every day you’ve lost.’
He pulled her to him, his voice urgent as he said, ‘Tell me you’ll marry me. Tell me, Daisy; I need to hear it.’
She couldn’t think like this, with the smell and feel of him all about her; it was too sweet, too seductive. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against the palms of her hands where they were pressed against his chest, and more than anything in the world she wanted to relax against him, to rely on his strength, to trust him. So why couldn’t she?
And then, as though in answer to that unspoken question, a bronzed hand lifted her chin and she found herself looking into the dark eyes again. ‘I know you better than you know yourself,’ he said levelly. ‘Trust me on this. You are meant to marry me, you’re meant to find happiness again. It doesn’t mean you love Jenny any less or that you won’t think of her every day of your life; she is part of you, safe in here—’ he touched her forehead gently ‘—and no one can take that away from you. You are too emotionally bruised now to accept all I’m saying, but the healing will come. I promise.’
She stared at him without speaking, her eyes cloudy with self-doubt and pain.
‘And I need you, Daisy.’ The tenor of his voice had changed. ‘I can’t go on without you.’ He heaved an unsteady breath and tried to smile but it was beyond him. ‘The thought of you walking out of my life, the prospect of trying to go on without you, just plain terrifies me. I’ve been waiting for you all of my life.’
She heard the need in his voice and she heard the love and it was in that moment that hope began to flicker again.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked huskily. ‘Do you, Daisy?’
She nodded wordlessly, incapable of uttering a sound but with her heart in her eyes as she looked up at him.
‘And will you marry me?’
‘Yes.’ It was tremulous and soft, her eyes searching his face, and then, as she saw the expression that lit up his countenance, the tears threatened again but she blinked them away furiously. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, Slade,’ she said more loudly, and as she reached up and put her arms round his neck, pulling his head down to hers, she said again, ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ against his lips until he began to really kiss her, and then somehow words were no longer necessary.
EPILOGUE
SLADE and Daisy married that autumn and gradually, over the next months and years, his promise was worked out. The healing didn’t happen overnight but the arrival of a baby brother for Francesco three years later was part of the process, and after little Giuseppe, named after the uncle he would never see, came Marie, and after Marie the twins, Liliana and Catherine.
Life was rich and full and good and so filled with love that at times Daisy was awed and humbled at what she had been given.
‘I can’t believe Francesco is going away to university next year.’ She and Slade were sitting watching their children play in the pool, the eldest—Francesco—looking like the Pied Piper as his brother and sisters followed him adoringly. ‘Giuseppe and the girls are going to miss him dreadfully.’
Slade smiled at her, a wealth of love in his eyes as he bent and kissed her. He kissed her frequently. ‘It is good he feels able to spread his wings,’ he said softly, ‘and the others have each other.’
And she had him. She turned to him, speaking out what was in her heart as she said, ‘You are my sun, moon and stars, my everything, you know.’
‘I know.’ His eyes, dark and glittering, crinkled at the corners. ‘True love begets love, and loving you the way I do how could it be any different? You are the air I breathe, the food I eat—’
‘Wife, mother, friend, mistress?’ she teased gently, her eyes laughing at him.
‘Talking of the last—’ he nodded towards the pool ‘—Francesco has the rest of the brood under control, so how about if we slip away for a while and you show me just how good a mistress you can be?’
She dimpled back at him as she rose, and they walked together towards the house as they were to walk throughout life—hand in hand, one in everything that mattered.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0288-7
MISTRESS TO A MILLIONAIRE
First North American Publication 2001.
Copyright © 1999 by Helen Brooks.
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