Gillian had her physical yearly, something her father had insisted on since she’d nearly died from appendicitis at the age of sixteen. She chose to see it as proof of affection he never gave voice to.
Maks looked serious and devastatingly attractive in his black Armani suit as Gillian pulled the door open.
She smiled up at all six feet four inches of muscular male towering confidently in her doorway. “You’re early.”
“And yet you are ready. You are no ordinary woman, Gillian Harris.” He didn’t return her smile, but his espresso-brown eyes traveled down her body like a caress.
He always did that, making her feel like all the super models in the world wouldn’t take his attention from her decidedly normal blond hair, blue eyes, average height and curves.
She stepped back to let him in. “Nana didn’t stand for tardiness.”
“And here I believed you were so eager to see me, you could not wait to get dressed,” he teased.
She grinned up at him. “That, too.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips brushing hers in polite greeting. She returned the kiss, letting her mouth open just slightly because she liked the feel of their breath mingling.
He made an inarticulate sound and deepened the kiss, pulling her body flush to his as he maneuvered them back into her apartment. As so often happened when they kissed, time stopped moving for her and the only thing her consciousness registered was the feel of his lips on hers and his hard body so close.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing a little heavily.
His dark gaze fell to the manila envelope by the door. She’d opened it, but the phone call had come in from Nana before she could skim the contents. She wasn’t worried, though. At twenty-six, she was young. She lived a healthy lifestyle and showed no signs of illness.
Nana would chastise her nonetheless. It was a good thing the older woman was in Las Vegas.
“You got your results.” There was a curiously flat quality to Maks’s tone.
She nodded and led the way into the living room. “Would you like something to drink before we go?”
“I’ll take a shot of Old Pulteney, if you have it.”
“You know I do.” She’d kept the twenty-one-year-old single malt whiskey on hand since he’d admitted to it being his drink of choice.
Gillian poured Maks two fingers in a rock glass, no ice, and handed it over.
“Thank you.” He took a larger sip than usual.
She smiled, charmed by the evidence of nervousness in a man so completely self-assured.
“You never told me you had appendicitis when you were sixteen.”
“You never asked.” He’d seen the scar, faded and small though it was.
She was surprised it had been mentioned in her health report, though. His doctor had obviously done a much more thorough examination than her own GP for this physical. She wasn’t surprised in the least that Maks had read the report with such attention to detail, though.
That was very much like him.
Maks frowned and took a sip of his drink.
Not sure why having had appendicitis was worth a frown, Gillian poured club soda over ice and added a slice of lime, her drink of choice. Maybe Maks was like her father and responded strongly to the knowledge she’d almost died.
When Rich visited her in the hospital, it was the one and only time Gillian had seen overt concern for her on his movie star handsome face.
Her father never appreciated the reminder that he’d been vulnerable to worry for her and she assumed Maks would be the same, so she didn’t comment on it, but asked instead, “Where are we going for dinner?”
He’d said he wanted to take her somewhere special. Combined with the fact he’d asked for the results of her yearly physical and that his own GP perform it, she was pretty confident that tonight was supposed to end in a proposal.
One she had no intention of turning down.
She loved him wholly and completely. She’d never told him, either. She hadn’t admitted that to Nana, but the words had turned out surprisingly difficult for Gillian to utter.
“Chez Rennet.”
It was the first restaurant he’d ever taken her to. No, he hadn’t said the words, but Maks had a romantic streak he wasn’t that great at hiding.
“Terrific. I love Rennet’s food.” The chef and owner had a soft spot for both her and Maks as well.
Dining in his restaurant was always pleasurable and Gillian took that as further evidence Maks wanted tonight to be special.
“I know you do.” Again that serious look.
And it finally clicked. Tonight was a serious night, an evening that would culminate in the kind of conversation she was sure Maks only planned to have once in his life.
She hadn’t been nervous before, but knowing how important tonight was to him brought a flock of humming birds to take up residence inside Gillian.
She was getting engaged to a prince, and for the first time, she really thought about what it would be like to be a princess.
The prospect was more than a little daunting.
Nana had always said Gillian ignored what she did not want to deal with and she’d done a fair job of that while dating Maks, but his somber demeanor tonight forced her to evaluate what his proposal would mean to both of them.
Ultimately, however, it didn’t matter.
She would have given up the creature comforts of civilization and moved to Antarctica to be with him.
Taking on the role of princess and living at least half the year in the Baltic island country of Volyarus would not be allowed to frighten her.
She loved him, Maks the man.
She could and would live with Maksim of the House of Yurkovich, Crown Prince of Volyarus.
CHAPTER TWO
DINNER WAS WONDERFUL. Although the solemn air never left Maks, he charmed Gillian with his usual urbanity.
There were several times he seemed on the verge of discussing something important, but he never followed through.
This further proof of a nervousness she never would have expected beguiled Gillian. She found herself falling just that much more in love with the man of her dreams as the evening wore on.
After dinner, he took her to listen to live jazz, one of her favorite things. The band was made up of musicians who had been around long enough they understood the music and how to live it, not just play it.
Relaxing, she was even relieved that the music prevented discussion, and the odd pressure she’d felt Maks was under seemed to lighten.
Afterward, she asked him back to her apartment and as expected, he accepted.
He’d taken her coat and laid it over the back of one of her club chairs, but stood as if not knowing what came next. It was so unlike him that she took pity and suggested another drink.
“I’d better not.”
“You don’t have to drive. Not if you don’t want to.” She offered her bed for the night in a similar oblique fashion to how she’d done on numerous occasions before.
He usually took her up on it, only refusing when he had early morning meetings or travel plans that would require him leaving in the wee hours and disturbing her rest.
So, it surprised her when he hesitated now. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Did he think she wanted to spend less time with him with marriage in the offing? She wasn’t going to pretend sexual innocence for the tabloids once their relationship went public. Though she appreciated the fact he’d kept it under wraps thus far, at some point in the very near future, everyone would know about them.
And she did not mind, but she would not pretend, either.
“Yes,” she said firmly.
“We need to talk.”
“After.” Suddenly she knew she wanted words of love spoken between them, even if they only came from her before he proposed.
She would tell him while they made love. He could propose after.
Yearning she would not think of denying dark
ened his espresso gaze. “You are certain this is a good idea?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t sure where the need came from, but she could not bear the thought of agreeing to marry him without admitting her feelings for him.
If only with her body, then so be it, but she would express her love for him tonight and she had hope the words would make it past her lips as well.