Anew: Book Three: Entwined (27 page)

“How about a picnic in bed? You can
nibble strawberries from my naval and lick whipped cream from…wherever.”

A dull flush creeps over his
cheeks. I’m sure he’s remembering our interlude by the waterfall on the atoll.
He swallows with difficulty.

“Those are good ideas. I’ll have to
remember them.”

“But we’re staying here instead,
aren’t we?” I take another sip of champagne. Actually, more of a gulp.

The corners of his mouth lift.
“There’s a great deal to be said for anticipation. Amelia.”

“Well,
Ian
,” I exaggerate
his name deliberately, “while I’m anticipating, how about you answer my
question?”

He frowns. “Which one?”

“What did you need to talk with
Edward about this time?”

He hesitates long enough for me to
fear that he isn’t going to tell me. Worse yet, he’ll say something intended to
spare me any worry or concern. But Ian surprises me.

Slowly, he says, “Jorge Cruces came
to see me this morning.”

At once, I stiffen. “Cruces? He’s
supposed to make sure that drugs like Jekyll/Hyde don’t exist.”

Ian nods. “In that particular case,
he failed. He came to apologize.”

I’m still upset at Cruces but I
have to admit that this impresses me. “Did you accept his apology?”

“I did and we talked briefly. I
think there’s a possibility that he could be of help. That’s what I wanted to
speak with Edward about.”

I sit back, satisfied, at least for
the moment. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Talking to Edward?”

“No, telling me.” I hesitate,
mindful of where we are. But I’m not sure when another opportunity like this
will come along, surrounded as we usually are now by friends and family. I’m
certainly not going to bring it up in bed.

Instead, I seize the moment. “You take
too much on yourself alone instead of sharing it with me. I know you do it to
protect me but I don’t want that. I need to make my own contribution. I can’t
just pick out cakes and swoon over gowns.”

“Amelia…”

“Please, listen to me. I
understood, if only barely, why you went after Davos on your own. Your plan
worked but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t let me do anything to
protect myself. You have to realize that I’m not helpless.”

His jaw tightens. Something dark
and ominous moves behind his eyes. I’m still trying to decipher it when he
says, “First, I didn’t go after Davos on my own. I went with an extraordinary
team of men and women, every one of whom came back safe and whole.”

“I know and I’m immensely relieved
by that but--”

“Second, I have enormous respect
for your abilities. Among so much else, you are quite simply the bravest person
I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t change the fact that I will never willingly put
you at risk. Don’t ever ask that of me because I simply cannot do it.”

I believe him and more. His honest
declaration compels me to admit that I would never put him in jeopardy either. I
also realize that we’ll have to find a balance for our mutual protective urges
as we go forward, learning to know each other better than we already do. But
not trusting more because I truly don’t believe that it’s possible to trust
anyone more than I do Ian.

“All right,” I say and almost laugh
at his look of surprised relief. “Just don’t close me out, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I could say the same to you,” he
counters gently. “Right now, for example, there’s something on your mind, isn’t
there? Beyond what we’ve just talked about. Something you haven’t mentioned
yet.”

I can’t help but be impressed, and
more than a little disconcerted. “How do you know that?”

“I sensed it in the garden before
we got…distracted.”

His grin is bold and frankly
carnal. Anyone who happens to glance up at us in this moment will be left with
absolutely no doubt as to the…uh, warmth…of our relationship.

“Not distracted enough.” I’m
grumbling but I don’t care. Although we’ve been in the restaurant only a few
minutes, I’m more than ready to leave and find somewhere to be alone with him.

But first--

“Your mother and my grand-mother
are set on us having a large wedding,” I say. “I think they view it as an
occasion to see where people stand and just possibly to forge some alliances.”

“They’re not wrong,” Ian says. “But
more importantly, what do you want?”

“Part of me would like our wedding
to just be the two of us with friends and family. But I also understand what
Adele and Helene are saying, and that led me to another possibility. You want
to invite people you work with, don’t you? Hollis and Gab, for instance?”

“Certainly.” He pauses, then adds,
“They’ll be others as well, including Jorge Cruces. If we’re going to be
building alliances, he’s a good place to start.”

I’m haven’t forgiven the drug lord
so completely that I welcome having him as a guest at our wedding. But if
that’s what Ian wants--

“I’d like to invite Sergei.” I know
the ballet master isn’t one of Ian’s favorite people but he’s been a good
friend to me.

Quickly, I go on, “What if we invite
more people who aren’t residents? Coming together in a social situation might
allow at least some to see that the differences between us aren’t as great as
they may assume. However much money and power we have or don’t have, we’re all
still human beings.”

I break off, looking at him. He’s
listening to me intently but I have no idea what he’s thinking. Self-consciously,
I say, “I know that I’m being idealistic and I don’t have a clue how to
actually make it happen but--”

“Edward is in close contact the
workers. With the scavengers as well, for that matter. We should talk to him.
He’s likely to have ideas about who to invite.”

Edward is what? I’ll have to come
back to that later. “You’d be willing--?”

“More than that.” Ian’s smile sends
a rush of warmth through me. “I think it’s an excellent idea. Of course, there
will be people on all sides who won’t want anything to do with each other. But
finding the rest, knowing who’s willing to work for something better, that
could prove invaluable.”

“I’m so glad you feel this way.” Glad
really doesn’t describe it. For the first time since being engulfed by the
tsunami of wedding preparations, I’m actually looking forward to being a bride.

Our dinner begins to arrive, a
succession of dishes chosen by the chef, exquisitely presented and quite
possibly delicious. I can’t really say that I notice. All my attention is on Ian.
Deliberately, he turns the conversation to less weighty topics. I’m happy to go
along.

Flirty, teasing Ian is someone I
haven’t encountered all that often and he’s a delight. By the time we finish
dinner and prepare to leave, I’m relaxed, happy, and very, very aroused.

As we walk
toward the steps leading down to the main floor of the restaurant, Ian keeps an
arm around my waist. I stop and turn within his embrace, my body pressed to
his. With the tip of my index finger, I lightly trace the sculpted curve of his
mouth.

“Shall I leave the
balcony doors open for you?” I ask softly.

His gaze
smolders. “Only if you don’t want me to break them down.”

I flush and for
a moment tuck my head against his shoulder. When I straighten, my gaze falls
across the tables below. People are watching us unabashedly. Some are even
whispering among themselves.

Ian’s intention
to make a very public statement about our relationship has been accomplished.
There will be no hiding away, not for either of us.

A ripple of
apprehension moves through me but I ignore it. Lifting my head, I smile proudly.
Ian does the same as he places my hand into the crook of his arm and leads me
back into the glittering night.

Ian

“O
h, my dear!” My mother’s mouth falls open. Her eyes
are wide with shock and concern. Beside her, my sister’s expression is much the
same.

Amelia and I are sitting side by
side on a settee in the parlor of Helene and Marianne’s townhouse. We agreed
last night that the time has come to tell them the truth about her before
there’s any risk of it becoming public knowledge. But I’m still concerned about
their response to the bombshell I’ve just dropped on them.

Not that I think either one is capable
of prejudice or cruelty, they aren’t. Still, they are bound to be startled, at
the very least, and to have questions.

“How--?” Marianne stares at each of
us before focusing on Amelia.

The intensity of her regard leaves
no doubt that she’s struggling to cope with what she’s just learned. I’m not
surprised. Amelia’s very existence challenges the most fundamental assumptions
that any of us can have about ourselves, our identity, and what makes us who we
are.

 “You woke up at the palazzo with
no idea of who you were?” Marianne asks.

On the surface, Amelia appears calm
but, holding her hand as I am, I can feel her stiffness and anxiety. I have
some idea of what this is costing her and wish like hell that there had been
another way. Still, I resist the urge to jump in and answer for her. More than
anything, this is her story and she has a right to tell it.

 Softly, she says, “Ian had to
explain everything to me.”

“That must have been overwhelming,”
my sister says.

The thought flits through my mind
of exactly how overwhelming I made those first days--and nights--at the palazzo
for Amelia. I’m still far from forgiving myself for that, even though I know
that she long since has done so.

“I can only compare it to the
experience of amnesia,” she says. “Except in my case there aren’t any memories
to recover.”

“So all you received is the
knowledge that Susannah chose to give you?” Helene asks. “Nothing else?”

Amelia nods. “Yes, that and certain
abilities, dancing, for example, playing the piano for another. Basically, I
have what she learned over the course of her life but not what she experienced.
She left me free to be myself, including forming my own memories and living my
own life. Of course, I’m immensely grateful for that and just for being alive
in the first place.”

Marianne gazes at Amelia a moment
longer before she turns to me. “Do Edward and Adele know?” she asks.

I hasten to assure her that they
do. “Yes, of course. They weren’t aware of Amelia’s existence initially. But shortly
after she awakened, I contacted Edward.”

Not shortly enough, according to
him, and he’s right. Fortunately, he seems to have forgiven me as well.

I continue, “Together, we created
the fiction of a McClellan cousin. Now, with the declaration of human rights
for clones, that will no longer be needed.”

I look at Amelia and squeeze her
hand gently. She’s holding up amazingly well but I’m still concerned. Seated
beside me, her head high and her back very straight, she looks beautiful and
elegant but pale.

She must know that my mother and
sister’s reaction is just the beginning. More people are likely to figure out
the truth and at least some of them will be far less accepting. But that
doesn’t change the fundamental facts of who she really is and how far she has
come in order to create her own life.

Quietly, I say, “Amelia is in every
way her own person with her own identity.”

“Well, of course she is,” Helene
replies. “How could she be anything else?”

She pauses before turning again to
Amelia. “Please forgive me but this is a great deal to take in all at once. Obviously,
you’re a remarkable young woman. I can’t begin to comprehend how you’ve managed
to cope so well. It can only be a testament to your intelligence and courage.
But even so, I must ask, given how little opportunity you’ve had to live as of
yet, are you sure that you want to commit to marriage so quickly?”

Amelia looks taken aback by my
mother’s bluntness but I’m not. I understand that it’s inspired by the best of
motives, not only a mother’s care for her son but also Helene’s genuine
friendship for Amelia. She is, after all, a woman who endured the darker side
of marriage. It’s understandable that she would be cautious.

All the same, I’m scarcely
breathing while I wait to hear how Amelia will respond.

Softly, she says, “I love Ian and
he loves me. Because of everything we’ve had to face, we’ve gotten to know and
trust each other much more quickly than would otherwise have been possible. Marriage
is our declaration that we won’t be beaten, or cowed, or torn apart. On the contrary,
we stand together as one and we always will.”

Her words move me deeply,
expressing as they do the very essence of what I feel. The heat in her gaze
when she looks at me is so filled with love and approval that my whole body
clenches. I glance down at my ring on her finger, still marveling that it is
there.

I was gentle with her last night…until
I wasn’t. She doesn’t leave any room for barriers, not on her part or mine. I
can’t hold anything back from her and I’m long since past the point of wanting
to try.

“This is all so romantic!” Marianne
beams us a smile. “I think you’re both incredibly brave but especially you,
Amelia. To embrace life the way you have is just amazing.”

A shadow flits behind her eyes that
makes me wonder suddenly what’s going on between her and Edward, if anything.

More softly, she says, “It’s good
to be reminded that we should make the most of what we’ve been given.”

‘It is,” Helene agrees. “And on
that note--” She stands and holds out her arms to Amelia. “Let me welcome you
to the family, dear girl. However you got here, we couldn’t be happier.”

I let go of Amelia but don’t take
my eyes from her as she rises. Her relief is palpable.

“Thank you,” she says softly as she
and my mother embrace. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“And to me,” my mother murmurs. “Seeing
my son so happy is more than I’ve dared to hope for.”

Adele, Marianne, and Amelia engage
in a round of teary smiles as I look on indulgently. Not that I think I’m
fooling any of them. They must know that I’m smart enough to be aware of how
blessed I am by the women in my life.

Amelia and I linger another hour or
so, moving on from talk of the engagement party that Adele and Edward will be
hosting in a few days to a discussion of the guest list for the wedding.

With the shock of our revelation
rapidly passing, my mother and sister are once again supportive and
encouraging. Any concern on my part that they might have lingering doubts about
Amelia vanishes in the light of their sincere acceptance.

“It’s a wonderful idea to invite a
mix of people,” Marianne says. “Daring but wonderful. Of course, some will
refuse to attend when they get wind of who else will be there.”

“Let them refuse.” My mother
sniffs. “If they stay away, the rest of us will be all the better off for it.”
She smiles at us both. “This is one big society wedding that I’ll actually
enjoy.”

Not with the guest list that I’m
looking at--too many blue noses and stiff necks from the social register. But
maybe Marianne is right and enough of them will stay away to let the rest of us
have a good time. At any rate, I’m far less interested in the wedding than I am
in the honeymoon to follow.

During the drive back to the
McClellan residence, I take the opportunity to broach that subject with Amelia.
She looks far more relaxed and happy than she was on the way over. A soft blush
of color has returned to her cheeks. Her eyes sparkle below the veil of her
little pillbox hat, its color a match for her navy blue suit.

No doubt the fitted jacket and
flared skirt are the height of fashion but that’s lost on me. All I really know
is that she makes them look great. I never used to notice such details but with
Amelia I can’t not do so. Everything about her matters to me.

 “Where would you like to go?” I
ask, savoring the simple pleasure of looking at her. That and knowing that
she’s happy.

“What are my choices?”

Her excitement makes me grin. “Anywhere,
everywhere. You name it.”

I have every intention of giving
her the world but Amelia surprises me. “I do want to travel,” she says. “But
for our honeymoon… What would you think of going back to the palazzo?”

“Seriously?”

I watch in fascination as her blush
deepens. “It’s beautiful and secluded and it’s where we first met.”

A kaleidoscope of images opens up
suddenly in my head. The golden room, the spa, the floating bed in the garden,
my office, the music room, the studio, the waterfall I didn’t get to take her
to, and a whole lot of other places that I’ll bet I can think of given a couple
of minutes--

“The palazzo sounds perfect,” I
say.

She’s still smiling when we reach
the house and I escort her inside. In the entry hall, I bend down and kiss her
lightly. Anything more and I won’t be leaving.

“I’ll see you this evening,” I say.
“All right?”

Amelia nods. “Do we have plans?”

“I know a great place for dinner.
On top of the tallest building in the city.”

She knows at once that I’m speaking
of Pinnacle House, dining area on the first floor of the penthouse, bedroom
conveniently right above, up the floating glass staircase that I remember
taking two steps at a time with her in my arms when--

With an effort, I drag my wayward
thoughts back to the present. “In deference to your brother, I’m still going to
get you home at a respectable hour.”

Amelia tilts her head to one side
and looks at me. “I don’t want to sleep without you.”

“You won’t,” I assure her. I’m
adamant about that. Sleeping with Amelia in my arms has become my second
favorite thing to do at night. “I’m getting damn good at climbing that
balcony.”

“Are we fooling anyone, do you
think?” she asks with a smile.

“I doubt it but that doesn’t
matter. It may look like Edward’s just messing with me…with us. But I think
he’s making a point about not presuming anything or taking you for granted. As
though I ever could.”

I drop a light kiss on her
delectable mouth. Anything more and I’m staying.

Her lips part, the tip of her
tongue easing between mine.

As it is, I barely make it out the
door.