“There’s no way I’m going to let you get away from me,” he said as if he were discussing the weather. “Not after last night.”
The crowd was silent again, hanging on his every utterance—despite the fact that Marsh’s voice was lowered and his words were meant to be private. He realized what he’d just said and winced. “Sorry,” he murmured to Leila.
She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. They all probably know anyway,” she whispered.
“Regardless, I am going to New York.”
“We need to talk about this.” She glanced around at all the curious faces. “Privately.”
Marsh raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “I’d like to thank you all again, but please, there’s no need to do any more work here. You may as well go home.”
Leila raised her voice, too. “Nobody move. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, and a lot of work to do over the next few days. Dr. Devlin is having a temporary problem with reality. He’s not going to New York or anywhere else—”
“I most certainly am,” Marsh interrupted indignantly. “I love you, and—”
“Please,” Leila said desperately to the crowd. “Just go back to work.”
“What, and miss this?” Millie Waters called out. “This is better than As the World Turns.”
The crowd laughed, and nobody left. Several people sat down, making themselves more comfortable, and others moved to where they could see better. Leila groaned.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Marsh told her.
“Atta boy, Doc,” John Knudsen called out. “You love her, you follow her to Siberia if you have to.”
Leila put her hands on her hips and glowered at John Knudsen. “Oh, that’s really intelligent. He’s just supposed to follow me, huh? No job, no money—you know, it takes a lot of money to live in New York City.”
“She’s got a point,” Axel Bayard said to John.
“But I have got a lead on a job,” Marsh announced. “A friend of a med school friend joined his father’s private practice—GP—after his residency. Apparently, the old man had a heart attack about four months ago. He’s got to take it easy, retire, and that’s left the son working eighteen-, twenty-hour days to keep up with the patient load.”
Marsh turned toward Leila. “I made a reservation on the same flight you’re taking on Sunday,” he continued. “I’m going to meet with the son—his name’s Grant Osgood, he was two years ahead of me at Harvard—and discuss the possibility of joining him as a partner in the practice. Glen—my friend—thinks Osgood and I will hit it off. If he’s right, I’ll be living up north by the end of February. I have to arrange for a replacement here on the key and—”
“You can’t leave.” Leila finally found her voice. “You love it here.”
“Yes, I do love it here. But I can leave. And I will. I want to be with you, Leila.”
Several people in the crowd began to whistle and applaud and Leila covered her face with her hands. “I can’t deal with this.”
Marsh took Leila’s hand, dragging her toward one of the framed-off doors. He pulled her out of the shell of the house and didn’t stop walking until they were on the beach. Alone.
“I’m sorry.” He looked tired and unhappy and Leila’s heart lurched. “What are you doing out here, anyway? You were supposed to take it easy today.”
“I was over at your office looking for you. I ran into Frankie and she brought me over here.”
“You were looking for me?” He looked as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“I’m not going to marry Elliot. I only told Simon that because he was making me crazy.” She was babbling now but unable to stop. “I mean, he had us all neatly paired off and dropped into a slot marked Happily Ever After. And that got me very annoyed—that combined with knowing that we…that what we did last night—which, by the way, was amazingly wonderful. So please don’t be mad or hurt or anything because I didn’t mean what I said. To Simon,” she added. “About Elliot.”
“Ah.” He glanced out at the sparkling ocean, and when he looked back at her, there was a glint of humor in his eyes. “I’m glad you cleared that up. Except, would you mind repeating the part about Elliot?”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
Marsh nodded. “That’s what I thought you said. And the part about last night? Something about splendid or wonderful?”
“Amazingly wonderful.”
“That was it.” Marsh smiled, and gently touched her cheek. “I love Sunrise Key, Leila, but there’s nothing for me here if you’re a thousand miles away.”
“And if I’m not?”
She could see in the warmth of his brown eyes that he was daring to hope. “If I asked you, would you stay?”
Leila kissed him.
This was what it was like to be in love, this feeling of utter desperation and desire, this sensation that a mere kiss was a trip to paradise. And what a kiss it was. Marsh’s mouth was soft and warm and tasted so sweet. The world seemed to tilt on its side, off balance and askew. He met her tongue with his own in a sensual dance that released a barrage of intense memories of the night before, when he’d held her, touched her, stroked her, kissed her just like this—and made her irrevocably his own. And Leila knew the answer to his question.
“Yes.” She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “I love you, and I’d like to stay.”
Marsh closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Leila realized he’d been blinking back a sudden rush of tears. “You love me.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Enough to marry me? Enough to move back here, back home?”
“Yes.” Leila looked at the house going up on the bluff above the water. “But it’ll be a new home for me. It’ll be yours and mine.”
Marsh pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.
“Did she say yes?” someone called down from the construction site.
Marsh didn’t lift his head from Leila’s sweet lips. But he raised one hand and gave a thumbs-up affirmation.
“She said yes!” the voice cried.
From atop the hill came sounds of cheering and laughter.
“We are going to have one heck of an enormous wedding,” Leila heard Millie Waters shout.
And they did.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Since her explosion onto the publishing scene more than ten years ago, SUZANNE BROCKMANN has written over forty books and is now widely recognized as one of the leading voices in romantic suspense. Her work has earned her repeated appearances on the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists, as well as numerous awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s #1 Favorite Book of the Year three years running—in 2000, 2001, and 2002—two RITA awards, and many Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Awards. Suzanne lives west of Boston with her husband, Dell author Ed Gaffney. Visit her website at www.SuzanneBrockmann.com.
OTHER TITLES BY SUZANNE BROCKMANN
All Through the Night
Force of Nature
Forbidden
Into the Storm
Ladies’ Man
Heartthrob
Bodyguard
The Unsung Hero
The Defiant Hero
Over the Edge
Out of Control
Into the Night
Gone Too Far
Flashpoint
Hot Target
Breaking Point
Freedom’s Price
Body Language
KISS AND TELL
A Bantam Book
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam Loveswept edition published May 1996
Bantam mass market edition / November 2008
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincid
ental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 1996 by Suzanne Brockmann
* * *
Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
* * *
www.bantamdell.com
eISBN: 978-0-553-90584-7
v3.0
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