“Well, tomorrow’s ‘now what’ will be taking that last test again with new tires,” Blaise began.
“What for?” she said hopelessly.
“Patti, it’s not like you to give up so easily. The Eagle is nearly ready to fly, and there are other resources for funding we can explore. It’s only money, remember?”
Pat appreciated his effort to cheer her, but she could not eliminate the overwhelming sense of disappointment that permeated her soul.
“And as for what happens next, I have a pretty good suggestion.” He turned onto his side to look at her.
“I don’t feel like going to a party,” she said, thinking that he was referring to the invitation she had turned down. It had included both of them.
“How about a private one?” he asked. “I promise not to bring even one noise maker.” He kissed her bare arm lightly.
In a single act, he ignited her soul, which needed more than passion tonight. Tonight she needed to be held and loved and assured that all would be well. She needed to have someone make her forget about tomorrow and all the other tomorrows that would carry disappointments with them.
If anyone could accomplish that, Blaise could.
Blaise did.
He took her in his arms and kissed the traces of her tears away softly. His lips brushed hers gently and lovingly at first. He stroked her over and over again, comforting tenderness changing into a passionate tide of motion meant to arouse her very being, which it did all too quickly.
Pat felt herself shedding the mourning pall that had taken hold of her and lifted her arms up to him, putting them around his neck. Her fingers entwined themselves in his thick hair, pulling him toward her. Blaise had managed to wiggle her out of her nightgown. His kisses replaced the straps on her shoulders and found their way down to her heaving breasts. His tongue slowly encircled her hardening nipples, making them peak beneath his mouth as she arched her back up against him, yearning to feel his hot body against her own, drawing comfort, strength, and passion from it.
The spell he wove around her grew as all disappointments were magically pushed from her mind. Nothing mattered now except for Blaise and their private world of fire. She felt her heart pounding as he took her once and then again, a blanketing feeling of peace mingling with new surging desire. All her fears melted in the heat of his kisses as his mouth scorched her skin, laying claim to every inch of her. She moaned in pleasure and anticipation as she sank deeper into the silken sheets. Her mouth clung hungrily to his as satisfaction smothered her senses and paradise drifted back into the mists from which it had come.
“Feeling better?” he asked, looking down at her with a soft, sweet expression.
She opened her eyes to look at him. He was propped up on one elbow, smiling. The look on his face was kinder than any she had ever seen on him. It was devoid of any teasing, any mischief.
“You could make hell bearable,” she said, a dreamy expression on her face.
“That, Patti, is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, playfully tugging back the sheet that she had wrapped around her breasts.
“You should have nice things said to you,” she said, lovingly touching his face, totally disregarding his pulling at the sheet. She held his face against the palm of her hand. “You’re a thoroughly nice person.”
“That’s not what you thought a little while ago,” he reminded her humorously.
“I was a paranoid woman fighting a multi-headed dragon and trying to fly a paper plane,” she said with a sigh.
“It’ll fly,” he assured her.
“One day too late,” she replied bitterly.
Blaise said nothing.
“Well, at least it brought us together for a while,” she said, and wondered why he looked at her so curiously when she said those words. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”
The clock in the hall chimed twelve times. Blaise lifted her chin until her lips offered themselves to him. “Happy New Year, Patti, darling,” he said, kissing her.
She did not get a chance to say the same words to him as his ardor grew once again.
Pat tried not to feel dejected the next morning, reminding herself that what Blaise had said was true. Nothing should be left undone, even though they probably had lost the Canadian government’s pledge for thirty million dollars. It was still the Eagle, still Roger’s dream, still her goal. Perhaps they would find new funding somewhere else. Blaise had worked one miracle, why shouldn’t they try for two?
Blaise was strangely quiet beside her during the morning’s ride and she wondered if he was thinking about leaving soon. She took in his handsome, well-developed frame, which filled out his three-piece blue-gray suit so well. She would not allow herself to think about the time when he would leave, even though she knew it had to be soon. She had never known him to spend more than a month in one place, and he had been with her almost two. Two months had slipped away as if in a dream, she thought sadly, then shut her mind to it completely.
Pat put on a brave face as the car came back to the same place where they had seen their hopes go up in smoke yesterday. The Eagle, a light blue bird perched on the runway, stood at attention, waiting to pass its final test, as if it did not know that now it was all for naught.
Over to the left stood Blair Afton, who was conferring with Blakely, the Canadian representative. Pat was more than a little surprised to see the men there, especially Blakely. She glanced at Blaise but got no enlightenment there.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Why don’t you go over and find out?” Blaise suggested mildly, as if she were asking about the weather.
“You’re behaving very oddly,” Pat said as she walked quickly to Blakely, pulling her fur parka around her. The wind was cold, she thought.
“A man in my position is never odd,” Blaise called after her, “only eccentric.”
She knew then that something was indeed up. Why didn’t he tell her when he was arranging things? It would take all the worry out of her life, she thought, then reproached herself. Here she was, hoping and building castles in the sky again.
“Good-morning, Mr. Blakely.”
“I certainly hope it is a good morning, Mrs. Hamilton,” he replied politely, his thin face wreathed in smiles.
He certainly looked happy for a man who just lost a contract for a factory, she thought.
Blakely thrust an envelope at her and she looked at him quizzically as she took it.
“It’s from the Prime Minister,” he said.
“Condolences?” she asked archly, taking her time in opening it.
“Hardly,” he replied. “He had it flown here right after Mr. Hamilton spoke to him.”
Pat turned to look at Blaise, who had joined her. On the field behind them, Sam was issuing last-minute orders to the pilot and to the crew, which was giving the Eagle its final check-over.
“What did you have to do with this?” she asked Blaise.
“Why don’t you just read it?” he said. “I’ve never met a woman who asked so many questions,” he said to Blakely, who nodded politely, obviously not sure of an appropriate response.
Pat looked down at the envelope. She looked at Blaise, her eyes wide, and then at Blakely. The postmark read “December 32nd.”
“Still makes it within the year, doesn’t it?” he asked politely, clasping his hands behind his back and making rather a grand show of looking at the aircraft.
Hurriedly, Pat took out the letter. “This letter was carried aboard the first flight of the Hamilton Eagle, which took place on December thirty-second of the year . . .’ “ Pat read no further but threw her arms around Blaise’s neck, her parka hood falling away and her hair coming loose. “Oh you wonderful, wonderful man! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been telling you I was wonderful ever since I arrived,” Blaise said in mock surprise.
“You know what I mean! This!” she cried, waving the envelope and letter in front of him.
&nbs
p; “Oh, that. Well, the Canadians don’t want to lose all those extra jobs, you know. And the Prime Minister’s already gone on record saying how he’s picking up the economy and preserving good relations all in one sweep. He wasn’t about to toss that away, now, was he, Blakely?” he asked the man’s back.
Blakely had the good grace not to turn around. “No, sir,” he agreed.
Then Blaise explained, “And I didn’t tell you about this because I wasn’t positive it would work. I just couldn’t chance setting you up for another bout with shattered hopes.”
Pat was speechless for a moment, then ran over to Sam with the document and said excitedly, “Well, let’s get this aboard!”
The look on Sam’s face indicated that he thought something else had gone wrong, but one glance at Pat’s beaming expression was all that was necessary to lay aside any such thoughts.
“Here!” she cried, shoving the letter into O’Toole’s hand. “We’re still in business! Sam, we got a one-day reprieve!” she exclaimed joyfully. “Fly, you wonderful bolt of cloth and glue, fly!” she instructed the plane, patting it fondly.
“I think it needs the pilot to do that,” Blaise said, taking Pat’s arm and pulling her back out of the way.
Pat laughed and cried as she watched the final test go off without a single hitch. The craft was approved and it was a toss-up as to who cheered the loudest, the crew, Blakely, or Pat. Only Blaise seemed to maintain his composure.
“Well, you got your wish,” he said almost calmly, smiling at Pat’s exuberance.
He was going to tell her good-bye right here and now, she thought suddenly, seeing his quiet mood. Was this how it was to end? On the field of victory? Somehow, the euphoria of that victory faded quickly. But she was damned if he was going to see her break down and cry.
“Yes, I got my wish,” she echoed. “At least part of it,” she could not help but add.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blaise asked, leaning over toward her ear to make himself heard over the din of the engine and the shouting crew members who were still congratulating one another.
But Pat merely shook her head, refusing to elaborate.
“Are you going to play coy now, after all we’ve been through together?” he asked.
Still she could not bring herself to ask him to stay. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t the way she wanted him to remember her.
“C’mere,” he said, taking her elbow and pulling her away from the others.
“Oh, Mrs. Hamilton, it’s going to be absolutely wonderful!” Blakely enthused, grabbing her hand and shaking it heartily. Somehow, she managed to smile at him and answer back while retrieving her fingers. Nothing was going to be wonderful ever again.
Blaise led her back to the car, safely out of everyone’s way. Champagne was being uncorked right in the middle of the field and even the Eagle got a dose of it.
“Did you ever wonder why I didn’t get married?” Blaise asked quietly.
She did not understand why he was asking her this. He was probably going to follow it up by saying that he could not take long attachments. She looked down at the ground, willing herself not to cry or let him see the tears that were welling up inside. He raised her head to get her eyes level with his.
“Well?” he asked, still waiting.
She shrugged. “Why tie yourself down to one woman when the world is your playground?” she said bitterly.
“A grown man doesn’t want a playground,” he said, his voice serious. “But neither does he want to settle for second best.”
She looked up into his eyes. Something in his voice compelled her to take serious heed of his words. This wasn’t just a wonderful parting speech he was offering her—was it?
“You still don’t understand, do you?” he asked, and she shook her head, her honey-brown hair hitting both cheeks. “As unsophisticated as it sounds, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, looking so young and beautiful on Roger’s arm. I hated him at that moment, I hated him for having seen you before I did. Yet, he was my cousin and I did truly care for him, so I did the only thing I could. I got out of the picture entirely. That was why I couldn’t bear to stay here. Seeing you and not having you was torture.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t pine away in a monastery,” she said with a small smile twisting at her lips.
“No, being a monk was not in my nature. But neither did I ever find a substitute for you—until now.”
“Now?” Was there some young, nubile girl waiting in the wings who reminded him of her twenty years ago? she wondered, the tears threatening to fall. Be strong, her heart urged, be strong!
“Who is she?” Pat asked, her throat dry.
“You.”
“What?”
“I was in love with the bloom on the rose, the hint of the woman to be. Now I’ve found that woman, and the promise did not even begin to reveal what you really are now. I can’t let you go again. I might not be able to gallop to your rescue in another twenty years.” He took her into his arms, holding her tightly, oblivious to the several pairs of eyes that turned to look their way. “This is not the most romantic place in the world, and if you prefer, I’ll fly you to the base of the Eiffel Tower, although this might be the site of a semi-historic event in its own time.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Pat asked incredulously, her heart beating madly.
“I know five languages. I can ask you in each one, as long as you give me the right answer,” he said, his eyes smiling warmly at her.
“English will be fine,” she said, terribly hungry to hear the words she had dreamed about.
“Will you marry me?” he asked against her cheek. “Think how practical it’ll be. You won’t even have to change your stationery.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I’d marry you if your name were Rumpelstiltskin!” she cried, the tears falling freely now.
“It would never fit on the business cards,” he said just before he kissed her, once more bringing back the world of passion and the promise of every day being a wondrous bonus, a December 32nd.
THE END
Marie Ferrarella
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The Women's Contemporary Originals from Marie Ferrarella--Read them all!
SAPPHIRE AND SHADOW
"A look at the grit beneath the glitz and one woman's triumph over both"--Nora Roberts
SAPPHIRE AND SHADOW is a vivid and compelling story of heart break and betrayal, of facing the death of dreams you've built your life on, of picking up the pieces and learning to live again. Johanna Whitney somehow draws from deep inside to find the strength to triumph in the end.
CHOICES
Shanna Brady has spent her whole life living in the shadow of her family, from her mother the socialite to her father the senator to her husband the aspiring politician. When she finds her husband in bed with his secretary, she vows to stand on her own. But a brilliant speech writer desperately wants to stand beside her. .
FLASH AND FIRE
She's smart, she's tough, she's beautiful. But can she type?
Never mind. Amanda knows what she's doing and she doesn't need the incredibly annoying Pierce Alexander, who thinks he's the world's gift to women, trying out his latest seduction techniques at every turn. But there he is, getting under her skin, being adorable with her baby, befriending her nanny, and ambushing her at the supermarket. She gives in--just a little--only to find him taking over her job when her main antagonist at the television station where she's an anchor sets her up for dismissal. Can she fight them all on her own?
Just watch her!
Marie's Women’s Contemporary Originals
USA Today and Publisher's Weekly bestselling author Marie Ferrarella is releasing her three hard-to-find women's contemporary novels written in the tradition of Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts an
d Debbie Macomber. Finally available again, these heart-tugging stories explore the tangled emotional lives of three women. Buy them now.
Marie’s Originals are reprints of romances published earlier by Bantam’s Loveswept line or Berkley/Jove made available again in e-book form. There are six romances currently being published in this format only.
Irresistible Forces
No Way to Treat A Lover
December 32….And Always
Smoldering Embers
Scenes From The Heart
Claimed by Rapture
We hope you will enjoy them all!
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You’ll enjoy Book 2 of Marie’s Originals:
NO WAY TO TREAT A LOVER
Only a year before, they'd shared a wildly passionate affair that seemed to be the love a lifetime -- until the day when reckless and lovely Charley Tremayne vanished from Reese McDaniel's arms. Leaving with no explanation, no promise to return, Charley ran -- chasing a perilous dream in a world of intrigue -- a world with no room for her love for Reese.
But suddenly they were thrown together by work, on a project that neither could leave... and they discovered that the fury of their need for each other had only deepened with time.
How could Charley explain to Reese, the one man whose lips could possess her soul, that she'd chosen to make danger her lover instead of him? Reese felt her torment, and finally understood: only boldness could recapture what they’d had.
Three Marie Ferrarella Romances Box Set One Page 41
