Flirting with Felicity

by Gerri Russell

  Her laughter rang through his mind. A memory of Felicity wearing only his shirt and standing on the deck of the yacht with the wind gently tossing her hair slammed through him, bringing a white-hot slash of pain to his chest. He tightened his fists so hard the nails bit into his palms. He tried to think about something else, without success.

  “Please, Edward. I need to speak to her. Tell me where she is.” The words were not a demand. They were the plea he meant them to be.

  The hotel manager’s steely gaze softened somewhat. “How do I know you won’t hurt her more than you already have?”

  “You don’t. None of us has that kind of insight into the future. Where is she?” he repeated with calm determination.

  “She made me promise not to tell you.”

  “A hint then, anything.”

  Edward shook his head, and his eyes hardened to steely gray. “I keep my promises.”

  Blake frowned, even though he understood and respected the man for his loyalty. Felicity, he’d learned from their time together, did that to people. She earned their trust and their respect by giving the same things back. “I understand,” Blake said as he turned and headed from the hotel. Absently, he walked right past Peter and the car, heading down the street. He wasn’t even sure where he was heading until he caught sight of the gray-green water of Puget Sound.

  With only the creamy yellow light of the street lamps to guide him, he walked along the waterfront. Felicity had said she came here when she needed to think. Perhaps the salty air and the quiet lapping of the waves against the piers would provide answers or at least bring him solace.

  He headed toward the bench she’d said she liked, when he saw her and her recognizable platinum blonde hair, shining beneath the light of the stars overhead. She’d come back to this place to think. He held tight to the hope that her thoughts were of him, but that might be wishful thinking.

  He stood there for a time, simply watching her, allowing his pulse to settle, gathering the nerve to do what he’d come to do. As he stared out at the water, he wondered how two people who’d shared such intimacy were supposed to find their way back to each other.

  “Felicity?” The word was carried away by the breeze. The only movement in the night became the ceaseless rhythm of the waves slapping against the dock. The wind picked up and pushed the waves harder against the pilings. The noise covered his approach.

  It wasn’t until he stood beside the bench that Felicity started. “Blake, you scared me!”

  “May I?” he asked, motioning to the open seat beside her.

  She nodded, and he slipped onto the bench. “How did you find me?” she asked, watching him warily as she clenched and unclenched her fingers.

  “I followed my feet, and they led me here.”

  She smiled faintly. Her eyes lifted to his, filled with an emotion he’d never seen there before. One she’d never let him see as fully as she did now. Love.

  “Did you mean what you said in your letter to me?” he asked.

  “About giving you the hotel and restaurant?”

  “About loving me?” he asked with a raw ache in his voice. He watched her with an almost unbearable sense of desperation. He’d never wanted anything as badly as he wanted her to say the words he longed to hear.

  She blinked up at him. Her eyes appeared as luminescent as if the stars danced in their depths. “Yes, God help me, I meant it.”

  In that moment, he put a name to the emotion he’d been fighting for so long. It was love. That knowledge filled him with both wonder and fear. Did he truly deserve to feel something this big? The answer was surprisingly a resounding yes. The guilt he’d been carrying around with him since his parents’ deaths eased, and he breathed easily for the first time in a very long while.

  “How’s your dad? I read that his therapy is progressing and that he’s saying an occasional word.”

  “You read the articles?”

  “Not at first, but eventually I was so desperate for the sight of you that I read them all, many times.”

  “That will make Destiny happy to hear she has at least one reader.” Felicity laughed. The sound filled him with a satisfaction that had been missing in his life every day that he’d been separated from her.

  “She has many more readers than that, I’m sure. I liked the article she wrote today about the Bancroft’s acceptance into the Seattle Historic Preservation Program.”

  Her smile was apologetic. “I knew they would approve the Bancroft for acceptance, and I apologize if it makes your tasks with the hotel harder from this day forward, but the hotel deserved to be honored for her past.”

  “I agree.” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “How did you ever stay so optimistic in spite of your past?”

  “I’m pretty stubborn.”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re a good person, and every day that I spend by your side makes me strive to be more like you.”

  “Is that why you started the Hungry Hearts program?”

  “You started it. I’m simply a donor.” He slipped his arm about her shoulders.

  “You’re my very best donor, then,” she said, leaning against him.

  “I like the sound of that.” Warmed by the feel of her body against his, he stared up at the night sky, feeling as though he’d been given the greatest of gifts this night. He reached for her hand, held it in his own with uncertain fingers, afraid that this moment might soon blow away in the cool night breeze just as his words had. If she vanished from his life, he’d be left with nothing. He’d waited his entire life for this moment without really knowing it.

  “You’re trembling,” she whispered as she returned her gaze to his.

  “You do that to me.”

  She tightened her fingers around his and scooted closer.

  Wrapped in silence as they watched the moonlight dance upon the water, Blake realized tonight Felicity had given him back his dreams. With her, anything seemed possible, even those things he’d never allowed himself to want. A family. Children. A wife.

  She turned to him and her eyes searched his briefly, then to his surprise she stretched up and lightly kissed him on the lips.

  He responded, touched by her sweetness, her warmth.

  When they came apart a moment later, she pulled back with a smile. “We should make our way back to the hotel.”

  Blake stood, then helped her up. Hand in hand they walked slowly back to the Bancroft, neither one of them wanting to end the moment, but knowing they had no choice. He had yet to say the words he’d come to Seattle to say. He had to wait until the time was right, until he could wrestle away the last of her reservations.

  He had to convince her, not with words but with action, that he loved her. To show her that with every moment they’d been together, every time they’d made love, she’d become more entrenched in his soul until he was no longer certain where he ended and she began.

  Blake smiled into the darkness. He knew exactly how to make that happen.

  Two days later, Blake was nearly ready to implement his plan. He’d blocked off the entire seventh floor of the Bancroft Hotel, refusing to let anyone but himself in on his secret. He’d cleaned the big, open room until it smelled like fresh lemons and sparkled like the midday sun.

  Grateful he’d learned early in his career as a manager how to install light fixtures, he’d hung twenty-six vintage 1900s chandeliers from the ceiling. He’d reworked the units to run on LED bulbs, and now nearly two thousand twinkling lights cast a soft golden glow about the large room. Blake turned around slowly, inspecting it all. Everything had to be perfect.

  Earlier today, he’d decorated the ceiling above the chandeliers with ivy and white roses that hung down as though suspended in midair. The entire room looked magical, exactly as he’d hoped it would. He checked his watch. He had ten minutes more until his guests arrived.

  The day could only be more complete if Felicity decided to stay with him forever. He faced the biggest challenge of his life: one where he
stood to lose everything, or win it all. There was no in between. Blake straightened his Armani suit and ran a suddenly nervous hand through his hair. It was time to find out what her decision would be.

  At precisely six o’clock, the doors of the elevator opened and Felicity stepped into the room. When she came forward, he greeted her with a single white rose. He paused, feeling more than a little breathless as he took in the sight of her. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders, curling at the ends. She’d worn the dress he’d picked out for her, an iridescent white silk. The fitted bodice clung to the lines of her body, accentuating every feminine curve. At the hips, the skirt flared out in a graduated fullness until it draped against the floor.

  His gaze traveled back up the length of her body to come to rest upon her face. “You’re beautiful.”

  “What’s all this about?” Her cheeks flushed pink.

  His hand cupped her face. “Do you trust me, Felicity?”

  She leaned in to his palm. “With my life.”

  “Then trust me now. All will be well. You’ll see.”

  Blake withdrew a single folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his suit. “I have something for you,” he said as he handed the paper to her.

  She opened the paper, then gasped. She met his gaze. It was the deed to the Bancroft Hotel. “Why?”

  “Because a wise woman I know taught me an important lesson. She said, when you love someone, you’ll sacrifice anything for them.”

  She stared at him, feeling dazed.

  “I don’t know what to say? I never imagined . . .”

  “Name anything in the world you want, Felicity, and I’ll give it to you,” he said thickly. “No strings attached.”

  His words were like a balm to her soul—a soul that had gone too long without the warmth and security she’d always wanted and had never hoped to find. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is you.”

  Blake smiled, slowly, the blue of his eyes peaceful and calm. “Marry me.”

  Felicity’s throat grew tight as her gaze passed over the decorations strewn about the chamber. Suddenly everything became clear. She looked down at the gorgeous dress Blake had sent to her room. White was what a bride wore on her wedding day when she married the man of her dreams.

  Felicity drew a steadying breath, trying to hold at bay the moisture that pooled in her eyes. She wanted a lifetime of the fullness, the sweetness, the all-consuming joy she’d experienced when Blake had held her in his arms at the railing of the yacht. She’d wanted those precious few moments to stretch out forever. It was in that moment she knew she wanted a lifetime with him. “For how long?”

  His brow puzzled. “You want to negotiate?”

  She held her breath, needing him to say the words.

  “Forever. Is that long enough?”

  She nodded. “Will there be a prenuptial agreement?”

  He shook his head as he gathered her closer. “I told you I’d give you anything. That includes everything I own, everything I am. There will be no prenuptial agreement. Now or ever.”

  She couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “I’d be an idiot to refuse you, wouldn’t I?”

  “I’d have to say yes.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you.” The moment she said the words, an incredible sense of rightness came over her. Before she could say anything more her father, her employees, and her friends spilled out of a room that was normally used for catering purposes.

  Tears burned at the back of Felicity’s eyes and finally spilled over as everyone she cared about came to congratulate her and Blake. Each person who came to greet her offered her a rose, until she held a huge bouquet in her hands.

  The heady scent of roses filled the room, making her dizzy with a kaleidoscope of happiness, contentment, and love. The emotions tumbled through her, bringing joy one moment, awe the next. Her heart surged with humility and pleasure and hope for a future with the man she loved.

  When her arms were full, the guests laid flowers at her feet, until she was surrounded by a sea of fragrant petals and greens. Through tear-filled eyes, Felicity looked up at Blake when he, too, came to stand before her.

  “Why?” she asked, not bothering to disguise the joy that rode through her.

  “You said you liked roses better than any flower,” Blake replied. He reached for her hands, folding them in his. “I love you, Felicity, for now and for always. I don’t want you to give up your dreams. I simply want a chance to share them with you.”

  “My dreams are here in Seattle. What about your job . . . the hotels . . .”

  “I can do my job just as easily from Seattle as I can anywhere in the world. The only thing I require is you.”

  For endless seconds she stared at everyone gathered around before returning her gaze to Blake. Her heart leaped. Never had she felt as loved as she did right now. And in that moment every fear of loneliness she’d ever had slipped away, never to return.

  “Felicity?” Blake asked, placing a finger under her chin, he brought her gaze back to his. “Marry me right here, right now, in front of our friends and family?”

  She could only nod as her heart filled to overflowing.

  In a sea of roses, they stood together and joined their lives. She stared down at the ring he’d slipped on her finger, laughing and crying at the same time. The center diamond was absurdly big and surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds. The ring was dazzling, no doubt expensive, and very bright. “It’s so big. You shouldn’t have . . . We could feed a small country with the money you spent on this ring.”

  He grinned. “We’ll keep that as an option if we need it someday.” He pulled her close as the minister stepped before them. “I wanted the world to know you’re mine. You are mine, aren’t you, Felicity?”

  “Always.”

  The word had barely settled between them when he kissed her firmly, telling her more clearly than words how fervently he loved her in return. She savored the moment as the scent of roses surrounded her, and wondered exactly when her dreams had become reality.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later, on the anniversary of Vern’s death, Felicity opened the door of the high-tech mansion she shared with Blake and her father in the Madison Park area of Seattle. A lanky deliveryman handed her two slim envelopes, one addressed to her, one addressed to Blake. She thanked him, abstractedly, as she noted the unmistakable handwriting on the labels even though a forwarding sticker had been slapped over part of the address.

  “Blake?” Felicity called as she headed toward the room where she’d left him only moments ago.

  “What’s wrong?” In three strides Blake was in front of her, standing so close she could smell his woodsy cologne and see the bright blue of his eyes. She had to tip her head back to look up at him, finding comfort in the certainty of his gaze.

  “These arrived. They were postmarked two days ago in Seattle.” She held out the envelope addressed to him and could tell the moment he recognized his uncle’s unmistakable script.

  “He wouldn’t?”

  Felicity’s heart raced. “We won’t know unless we open them.”

  In unison they broke the seals. Felicity reached inside and removed another smaller envelope. She broke that seal and pulled out a single sheet of stationery with the Bancroft Hotel crest at the top.

  Blake followed her example.

  “What does yours say?” Felicity was almost afraid to ask what mischief Vern had sent them from the grave.

  Blake’s expression softened as he read the message. “The future I wanted for you is here. I apologize for my methods, but I learned long ago that you were not one to take advice, mine or anyone else’s. I did love you in my own odd way, and as I grew older, I didn’t know how to mend the rift between us. I want you to be happy and to carry on the Bancroft name.” Blake paused and smiled. Contentment shone in his eyes. “And yours?”

  “If there’s one thing I know about my nephew, he never could resist a challenge. I hope he’ll
challenge you for the rest of your long and happy lives.” She looked up to meet Blake’s smiling gaze. “He planned this all along. He gave me the hotel so that it would lead us to each other.”

  Sorrow shadowed her husband’s eyes as he set his note aside and took her in his arms. “My only regret is that my uncle didn’t live to see he got exactly what he wanted.” Blake’s hand slid to her abdomen, to the barely discernable bump there. Inside her, deep inside, something fluttered. Life. They’d found out a month ago that they were expecting.

  Felicity covered Blake’s hand with her own and offered him a smile filled with all the love in her heart. “He knows. I’m certain of that.”

  “In his own strange way, he did all this to see us happy,” Blake said, bringing his lips to hers in a heart-melting kiss that communicated his love.

  When she surfaced from the seductive pull of his lips, Felicity reached out and took his hands. She laced his fingers through her own. “I’m so grateful Vern brought you to me through the ownership of the Bancroft Hotel.” Which they now both shared.

  CULINARY TREATS TO YOU FROM GERRI RUSSELL

  Braised Celery with Onion, Pancetta, and Tomatoes

  2 pounds celery

  1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

  1 1/2 cups onion, sliced very thin

  2/3 cup pancetta, cut into strips

  3/4 cup plum tomatoes, either fresh or canned, coarsely chopped with their juice

  1 teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon pepper

  Directions

  Cut off the celery’s leafy tops, saving the leaves for another use, and detach all the stalks from their base. Use a peeler to pare away most of the strings, and cut the stalks into three-inch pieces (cutting on the diagonal looks nice). Set aside.

  Put the oil and onion in a pan and sauté over medium heat. Cook and stir the onion until it wilts completely and becomes a light gold color. Add the pancetta strips.

  After a few minutes, when the pancetta strips lose their flat white uncooked color and become translucent, add the tomatoes with their juices, the celery, salt, and pepper, and toss thoroughly to coat well. Adjust heat to cook at a steady simmer, and put a cover over the pan. After fifteen minutes, check the celery. It should cook until it feels tender when prodded with a fork. The longer you cook the celery, the softer and sweeter it becomes. If, while cooking, the pan juices become insufficient, refresh the celery mixture with two to three tablespoons of water. Or, if the pan juices are too watery, uncover, raise the heat, and boil the juices away.