Eternally Yours (30 page)

She had thought she’d had a chance for love with him. A trickle of worry seeped into her head. Would she come to regret dismissing Mark from her life? Might she someday wish she’d given him another chance?

When he turned around to look at the bookcases lining the wall, his actions made her feel nervous, and she dropped her line of thought. The entrance to the secret room was closed--as well as it would close--but thinking about the ghost had brought back her eerie feelings about the spot.

He stooped and started to examine the area around the base of the entrance, and her uneasiness changed to annoyance. Even now, with their relationship coming to an end, he was more interested in her house than in her!

“What are you doing?” she snapped at him.

“Just checking out a few things.” He stood back up, tiptoeing and stretching his neck to look around at the tops of the bookcases. “Would you mind if I opened up the entrance?”

“Yes, I would.” She jumped off her stool. “I thought we were having a conversation, but, as usual, all you can think about is this house.”

He turned around to face her. “I’m sorry. This has to do with my idea for your studio.”

She pursed her lips, unconvinced.

“Please, Lara, just give me a few minutes, and then I’ll explain everything.”

When she didn’t answer, his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up. “Aren’t you even curious about what I have in mind?”

She wasn’t really, but since she’d said pretty much all she cared to about the ghost, she supposed they might as well move onto another topic. “Okay, check whatever you want to, as long as I don’t have to go into the secret room with you.”

“No problem.”

While she stood back watching him, he triggered the mechanism and the case ground across the floor. He spent another moment looking at the perimeters of the area, then disappeared behind the wall.

The lump in her throat rose again.

Within seconds he popped back out and grinned at her. “It’s exactly like I thought.”

She felt another pang of resentment that he could be so happy when she felt like her world was crumbling. “What are you talking about?”

“The secret room isn’t an original part of the house. This wall was added later. When the house was built, this area was one huge room--maybe a ballroom.” He motioned toward the row of bookcases. “If you tore these down--or, preferably, moved them elsewhere--it would add an extra ten feet or so onto the studio. Once you unblock the window in there, you’ll even have more light. I think this room could really be fantastic.”

She stared at him, letting the idea slowly sink in. To her amazement, she agreed with him. Adding what was now the secret room onto the studio would give her loads of space to work in. The extra expanse even had another fireplace. The finished room would be beautiful, and she wouldn’t have to destroy the house to get it.

“Wow,” she said.

“When you tell the historical society you want to restore the house to its original floor plan, I’m sure they’ll approve your grant.” His smile faded a little, and he looked at her more seriously. “As for the zoning board, I’m really sorry about that disaster, but I promise you won’t have any further problems with them. I’ve spoken to the board chairman about your studio.”

“Really?” A new bud of hope opened inside her.

He nodded. “It was the least I could do. In fact, I should have done it weeks ago, when I inadvertently started up the rumor mill with my slip of tongue. It’s just that with everything that’s been happening between you and me, that conversation with Karen was the last thing on my mind.”

He’d said what she wanted to hear--that she came first in his mind and Karen came last. She began to think she’d made a mistake in not hearing him out before this. A little embarrassed, she asked, “So what did the chairman of the zoning board say?”

“He agreed that your project isn’t a commercial undertaking, and he regretted their misunderstanding. When you send in your revised application, they’ll issue your permit as quickly as possible, assuming you don’t plan to do anything in violation of town codes.”

A soothing warmth flooded her body. He really was a good guy, after all.

She gave him a small smile and shook her head. “Mark, I don’t know what to say. I know you wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble if all you cared about was preserving that outside wall, which is what I was afraid of. Thank you for talking to the officials and for coming up with a new plan for me. I can’t believe it. You seem to have thought of everything.”

“Then you do like the idea about annexing the secret room?” he asked. “I mean, you don’t think it would transfer the creepy atmosphere to this room, do you?”

She considered the possibility, but it seemed to her that anything creepy about the house stemmed from the secret it had held. With the space opened up again, she had a feeling her home would be more cheerful than it had been in over a century.

“No, I’m convinced all the creepiness will be gone.”

“Then I’ll move onto the most important point of discussion.” He took a step toward her then stopped again. Meeting her gaze squarely, he asked, “Lara, how can I apologize for mentioning your plans to that bitch, Karen? I should have told you what had happened right away. I wish I could go back and do it over again. Since I can’t, I want to make it up to you the best that I can. I’d really love to work on renovating your studio with you, if you’ll let me.”

She gave him a crooked smile, trying not to break into tears and make a fool of herself. “
I
should apologize to
you
for not listening to you before this.”

“You reaction was understandable.”

Hardly able to believe how everything between them had turned around so quickly, she looked away from him, glancing around the room. A nervous laugh slipped out of her. “So, you don’t mind stripping paint? We’ll have to do something about all of the dark varnish in here.”

He rushed forward and took both of her hands, warming them in his. Grateful, she met his gaze.

His eyes looked big and intent as he stared down at her. “I’ll gladly strip paint. I only hope it will help make up for what an idiot I’ve been.”

Her smile widened into a grin. “It would certainly be a good start.”

“What else can I do?” he asked, his expression solemn. “Just tell me. Really.”

She knew what she wanted from him more than anything else at the moment but, after their brief separation, she felt oddly shy asking for it. Looking up at him through her lashes, she asked, “How about giving me a kiss?”

“My pleasure.”

He leaned down and met her mouth.

His kiss was tender, an expression of caring rather than of hunger. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the relief that flooded through her. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her body so tense until this second, when all of her muscles relaxed.

He deepened the kiss until she grew almost dizzy with joy. Eventually they pulled back and looked at each other. She felt warm and content, and the soft look in his eyes told her he felt the same.

“I’d like to try to make up for my bad behavior, too,” she said. “Maybe I could start by illustrating that book for you.”

He gave her a brilliant smile--then all at once something behind her seemed to grab his attention. His brow furrowed as he stared over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, turning around to see what was there. He seemed to be looking toward her drawing table, but she didn’t notice anything unusual about it.

“Just one question and then I won’t bring the topic up again,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It’s about the poem of Geoff’s that I sent with my letter. Did you get the same feeling about it I did--that it was written for you and me?”

“I have no doubt it was.” The reminder drained away some of her happiness. “I have to say I think it’s really scary that he’s had some sort of hand in bringing us together. How much influence do you think he’s had? I mean, do you think what we feel for each other is real? Are you sure we’re not under some sort of ghostly spell?”

“What I feel for you is as real as it gets.” He reached up and grazed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I feel connected to you in a way that I’ve never felt with anyone before.”

His words comforted her, but one last tingle of doubt remained. “But are you sure you have good reason to feel that way?”

“Perfectly sure. You and I have been through some weird experiences together, some of them very intense. But, more important, during the time we’ve known each other you’ve fascinated me with your talent and your insight, and you’ve also encouraged me in my own pursuits. That’s why I want to be with you. I really think the roughest roads are behind us now and that we’re only going to get closer.”

She sighed and nodded. “Thanks. I needed to hear that, even though I’ve already had this debate in my head, and I came to the same conclusion as you. You won me over with your genuine interest in my art and your ability to whisk me away with your writing--not to mention your good looks. It had nothing to do with anything ghostly.”

He laughed. Sliding one arm around her, he walked her toward the couch. “I think you realize that I’ve had a hard time accepting the idea of being haunted. If there are such things as ghosts, I’d rather keep my distance from them. But one thing I can tell you, whether or not they exist, no eerie draft can blow away the feelings I have for you.”

As he leaned down to kiss her again, a gust of chilly air blew past them, making them both look up. Geoffrey’s poem flew off the drawing table and landed on the floor, near the entrance to the secret room.

Lara waited for more to happen, but the chill faded quickly, and the house stood silent--empty except for her and Mark. Hot tears gathered in her eyes. Somehow, she knew that Geoffrey and Mariah had finally found peace with each other.

Mark lifted her chin and gently turned her face toward him. He gave her a shaky smile. “I don’t think we’ll be hearing from Geoff again.”

To her amazement, the thought made her sad. Through her tight throat she croaked out, “In a way, it seems a shame to lose him.”

“I don’t know about that. I think it’s better than the alternative.” He glanced down at her quivering lips, then gazed back into her eyes. “Please don’t be unhappy, Lara. After all, he’s left us an important legacy.”

“Yes.” She looked off toward the bookcase. “We’ll always have his poetry.”

He laughed. “I meant our love.”

Her gaze shot back to meet his. He’d used that word again and, for an instant, it took her off-guard. Then she smiled and nodded. “Yes, that, too.”

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I love you,” she said, trying out the words. They felt right, and she wasn’t surprised.

“I love you, too.”

He bent down and kissed her again.

Copyright  2002 by Jennifer Zorger

Originally published by Berkley/Jove
Love Letters
(0515132381)

Electronically published in 2006 by Belgrave House

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.