He pulled back and looked in her eyes. ‘You know I’m going to buy the Treehouse.’
‘Oh, Gabe, I can’t let you do that. It’s not worth it.’ Her lawyer had been in touch, the offers from developers had started—an insane amount of money was on the table because of the location.
‘Then you’d better take it off the market and let me use the money I would have spent buying it, fixing it. It can be fixed. I love it and so do you. We’re not letting it go.’
The emotion bursting within her rendered her immobile—so far beyond happy, she was speechless.
His smile just broadened. ‘We’ll get the tree fixed, we can replant the garden and let the hedge grow back.’
She inhaled deeply and managed a nod. He cupped her face with both his hands and drew closer to kiss her. Kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.
Thanks heavens his hotel was a mere five-minute drive from Covent Garden because in those few magic minutes the cab’s windows were fogged and she was frantic to be alone with him.
‘This is a bit flasher than my hostel,’ she said vaguely, blinking as they walked through the gleaming, posh lobby.
‘Wait ‘til you see my suite,’ he murmured, guiding her to the lift.
Anticipation shimmied through her veins.
He caught her eye; a wild look entered his. ‘Just give me a chance to unlock the door, okay?’
She skipped alongside him, but once in the room he didn’t stop by the massive bed—instead he led her the twenty steps further into the enormous en suite. And in the doorway, Roxie stopped—stunned.
The bath was huge, full of steaming water and billions of white, sparkling bubbles. There were soft scented candles lit, there was all indulgence to be had.
He caught her jaw-to-the-floor moment and winked. ‘Know you like your bubbles.’
Indeed there were two champagne flutes on a tray, but Roxie’s eyes were glued to the thing standing beside them. ‘That’s not a bottle, that’s practically a keg.’ She walked over to it, touching the dewy glass, the coldness assuring her this was all real—not her mind presenting the most incredible fantasy ever.
‘You get kegs of beer,’ he jeered lightly. ‘That’s a jeroboam. There are more in the fridge. For my list.’
His teasing talk kindled her own, easing her through the emotion of seeing the effort he’d gone to for her. ‘Must be a massive fridge.’ She’d never seen such a giant bottle of champagne.
He chuckled. ‘I thought this was a better size for sharing.’
‘Because you’ve invited the whole rugby team here?’ She pretended to look around the room for the crowds. But less than a second later she sobered, because she truly couldn’t believe he’d done all this. For her. ‘How did you get this organised so quickly?’ They’d only been in the hotel a minute.
Gabe reached into his pocket. ‘I don’t know if you’ve come across these things much, Roxie. They’re called mobile phones.’ He’d pulled out two of them—his and her silver-clad one.
Horrified, she stared at the two gadgets. And then she couldn’t see them any more because her eyes flooded with tears denied too long. Rivers and rivers of tears.
The phones hit the floor with a clatter and in a second she was pressed tight against his hard strength.
‘You’re going to cry now?’ he asked, aghast. ‘Over a stupid phone?’
‘Not the phone,’ she sobbed. ‘Because I was stupid. And scared. And I nearly lost my future as well as my past.’
His arms tightened more.
She cried more. ‘You came after me. You found me. You love me.’
Oh, she believed it now. Needed it now. Was so happy she couldn’t possibly hope to express it.
He thrust his fingers through her hair, massaging the base of her skull and tilting her head back to meet his kiss. Her whole body was one big shiver. He peeled the clothes from her, then pretty much ripped his own off. A haze of husky words, whispers of love and trust, promises, and touches that led to absolute ecstasy.
And many, many minutes later, even though her skin had been thoroughly warmed, it still tingled when she stepped into the bath. She stretched out and smiled at the sight of him opposite her, his glorious body half hidden in the mass of pearlescent froth.
‘What if you hadn’t found me at the ballet?’ she asked, unable to bear the thought that he mightn’t have found her. ‘How many nights were you going to go there?’
‘A few more, then I was going to bribe your lawyer into giving me your address, or contact the embassy or something. Anything.’
‘And what would you have done if I’d been fine? If I’d been off at a nightclub pulling some random guy?’
Gabe’s dark eyes sharpened. ‘I’d have punched his lights out.’ But then his grin flashed. ‘I told you I’d do anything, was totally up for a fight. But I never thought for a second you’d be off with someone else. Not you.’
‘I was never going near another man,’ she admitted. ‘Too busy breaking my heart over you.’ She’d been so stupid and scared. ‘I should have said something to you.’
‘You had to go,’ he said softly. ‘You’d been dreaming of it for so long, you had to go and see what if it was really what you wanted. I didn’t want to try and stand in your way.’
Roxie’s blood chilled, despite the warmth of the water. ‘I knew I didn’t want to go at the airport,’ she admitted sadly. ‘I couldn’t turn away from you. But I didn’t think—’
He stopped her rising distress by pulling her to him and planting a kiss so passionate and perfect that she knew there was such a thing as paradise on earth.
‘Worst moment of my life,’ he muttered against her skin. ‘I really believed you wanted to go. But I knew right away I’d made an awful mistake. I should have gone with you then and there. Instead it took me four hours to get everything organised so I could follow you.’
She gave a watery chuckle and wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, embracing him. In return he held her, caressed her, fulfilled her. She rested her head on his shoulder, at home.
‘I love you, Gabe,’ Roxie finally admitted. And in that instant, she’d never felt so free.
EPILOGUE
12 Months Later
HE WAS waiting for her when she came out to lock up. Her store had been open a month—dancewear supplies, costumes, theatre makeup, pointe shoes. At this stage she didn’t stock nipple tassles but she knew Gabe held hope eternal.
Tonight they’d have their first night back at the Treehouse. It had taken months for the remedial work to be completed. They’d rented a small apartment nearby and Roxie had spent her days supervising both the repair job and the outfit of her store, her evenings choreographing new routines with Chelsea for the Blades. After the big digger work had finished at the Treehouse, she’d replanted the garden—not completely vegetables this time, but the occasional amazing flower as well. Now Gabe parked in the refurbished garage and with a flourish opened the front door for her. She literally danced in, so happy to be home.
‘Oh, look, you have mail already.’ He took the envelope pinned to the tree-trunk and handed it to her.
‘Specially delivered.’ She took it with a smile and a kiss that threatened to go wild—loving him so completely.
‘Not yet.’ He broke free and stepped back from her, his hands up in the surrender position. ‘Open it first.’
She did and drew out the gilt card, reading the beautiful script. ‘Tickets to the Paris Opera Ballet?’
‘Giselle, of course.’
She was going to Giselle, in Paris, with Gabe? ‘You mean you’re coming with me?’ She almost squealed, this day just couldn’t get better.
‘Nothing I like more in the world than coming with you.’ He waggled his brows. ‘And seeing we’ll be in France, I’ve booked a trip to Champagne. To the House of Bollinger.’
‘No,’ she screeched. ‘As in like the factory? Where they grow the grapes and bottle the bubbles?’ That would be too muc
h fun.
‘Well, it is the only thing you drink,’ he teased. ‘But maybe we could try some others too—you know, Moët, Veuve, Taittinger? We could bubble around the region, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely!’ She wrapped her arms around him and squealed. ‘That would be fantastic.’
He chuckled as he hugged her. ‘I love you and I love this place.’
Oh, ditto, ditto, ditto.
She reluctantly eased out of his kiss. ‘But there’s still something wrong with the house you know,’ she whispered, shyly hiding her face in his neck.
‘What’s that?’ He waited, quiet, to catch her answer.
‘There are only two bedrooms.’ She leaned back so she could see into his eyes and took hold of some courage. ‘I don’t want to have an only child.’
His eyes widened and his arms tightened. ‘You’re pregnant?’ He lifted her and twirled and positively shouted. ‘Oh, darling, that’s brilliant!’
‘No!’ She laughed, her heart soaring at his ecstatic response. ‘I’m not pregnant yet. I just thought I might like to be. One day. More than once.’