Running From the Storm (21 page)

‘I do.’

‘In that case, consider it your wedding present. And if there turns out to be insufficient bedrooms we can always build a new wing and add some more.’

‘But would
you
want to live in it? I mean you already have a home in the States.’

‘There’s no law that says we can’t have a home in the States and another in England and split our time between the two.’

‘But you’ve a company to run.’

‘That’s true. However, unlike my father I don’t try to run it single-handed. I’ve put good people in the key positions, so all I have to do is keep abreast of what’s going on and OK any major decisions that have to be made. Luckily, modern technology means that that can be done from anywhere in the world.’

Overjoyed, she asked, ‘But what will you do about Gracedieu’s cottages?’

‘If they’re renovated and brought up to date, they’ll be ideal to house the estate workers.’

‘What estate workers?’

‘I hope to run the place as it should be run—plant organic crops, grow fruit trees, have glasshouses with tomatoes, herbs, salad ingredients et cetera; keep sheep and deer, make the estate pay its way.’

‘You’re planning to be a country squire?’

‘Hardly. I’ll find a good estate manager to run things for me. I want time to live my life and enjoy it, time to spend with my wife and children. Happy now?’

‘Very happy.’

His arms closed around her and he held her as if he would never let her go.

Pressed to his heart, she whispered, ‘I’m only sorry I ever doubted you.’

‘In the circumstances, it was quite understandable. Fate seems to have conspired against us.’

She touched her lips to the warm hollow at the base of his throat. ‘I don’t know why you’re so good to me when all I’ve given you is grief.’

‘That isn’t all you’ve given me.’

Raising her head, she kissed his lips, cutting off the denial. ‘But I’ll try to make it up to you.’

Returning her kiss with interest, he murmured, ‘Well, if you
want
to try, I certainly won’t stop you.’

Almost fiercely, she said, ‘I love you so much.’

‘Sure about that?’

‘Quite sure. When you’re feeling better, I’ll try to prove it to you.’

‘I’m already feeling better,’ he said with alacrity. ‘But I’d like to point out that you still haven’t said yes to my proposal—and before you take me to bed I want to be certain you intend to make an honest man of me.’

‘Oh, I do.’

‘That’s what I wanted to hear,’ he murmured, and kissed her again.

Read on for a sneak preview of Carol Marinelli’s

PUTTING ALICE BACK TOGETHER!

Hugh hired bikes!

You know that saying: ‘It’s like riding a bike, you never forget’?

I’d never learnt in the first place.

I never got past training wheels.

‘You’ve got limited upper-body strength?’ He stopped and looked at me.

I had been explaining to him as I wobbled along and tried to stay up that I really had no centre of balance. I mean
really
had no centre of balance. And when we decided, fairly quickly, that a bike ride along the Yarra perhaps, after all, wasn’t the best activity (he’d kept insisting I’d be fine once I was on, that you never forget), I threw in too my other disability. I told him about my limited upper-body strength, just in case he took me to an indoor rock-climbing centre next. I’d honestly forgotten he was a doctor, and he seemed worried, like I’d had a mini-stroke in the past or had mild cerebral palsy or something.

‘God, Alice, I’m sorry—you should have said. What happened?’

And then I had had to tell him that it was a self-diagnosis. ‘Well, I could never get up the ropes at the gym at school.’ We were pushing our bikes back. ‘I can’t blow-dry the back of my hair …’ He started laughing.

Not like Lisa who was laughing at me—he was just laughing and so was I. We got a full refund because we’d only been on our bikes ten minutes, but I hadn’t failed. If anything, we were getting on better.

And better.

We went to St Kilda to the lovely bitty shops and I found these miniature Russian dolls. They were tiny, made of tin or something, the biggest no bigger than my thumbnail. Every time we opened them, there was another tiny one, and then another, all reds and yellows and greens.

They were divine.

We were facing each other, looking down at the palm of my hand, and our heads touched.

If I put my hand up now, I can feel where our heads touched.

I remember that moment.

I remember it a lot.

Our heads connected for a second and it was alchemic; it was as if our minds kissed hello.

I just have to touch my head, just there at the very spot and I can, whenever I want to, relive that moment.

So many times I do.

‘Get them.’ Hugh said, and I would have, except that little bit of tin cost more than a hundred dollars and, though that usually wouldn’t have stopped me, I wasn’t about to have my card declined in front of him.

I put them back.

‘Nope.’ I gave him a smile. ‘Gotta stop the impulse spending.’

We had lunch.

Out on the pavement and I can’t remember what we ate, I just remember being happy. Actually, I can remember: I had Caesar salad because it was the lowest carb thing I could find. We drank water and I
do
remember not giving it a thought.

I was just thirsty.

And happy.

He went to the loo and I chatted to a girl at the next table, just chatted away. Hugh was gone for ages and I was glad I hadn’t demanded Dan from the universe, because I would have been worried about how long he was taking.

Do I go on about the universe too much? I don’t know, but what I do know is that something
was
looking out for me, helping me to be my best, not to **** this up as I usually do. You see, we walked on the beach, we went for another coffee and by that time it was evening and we went home and he gave me a present.

Those Russian dolls.

I held them in my palm, and it was the nicest thing he could have done for me.

They are absolutely my favourite thing and I’ve just stopped to look at them now. I’ve just stopped to take them apart and then put them all back together again and I can still feel the wonder I felt on that day.

He was the only man who had bought something for me, I mean something truly special. Something beautiful, something thoughtful, something just for me.

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Table of Contents

Cover

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

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