Fragrance of Violets (23 page)

“Nathan Garside.”

“How did
he
know?”

“One of his friends saw you at a book signing in Carlisle.”

He nodded slowly. “I did wonder if anyone who knew me might see me there.”

“Farrell said you had a struggle to end Marsha’s contract but he didn’t tell me how you managed it.”

“First, we tried to buy her off, but she refused. Next, we attempted to find her another part, but that didn’t work either. It was when we were here in Paris that you gave me the answer.”

“
I
did? How?”

“You told me she was unreliable and had walked out of several things. I asked Farrell to investigate, with the result that they put a million pound withdrawal penalty clause on her contract.”

“Oh, my God.” Abbey almost choked on her mouthful of wine and giggled. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Her laughter started to dissolve the undercurrent of strain between them, and he laughed too.

“I always wanted you,” he said, and realised what he’d said was true, but he didn’t want to halt the slow thaw between them. He went on quickly, “As Maggie, I mean. I even thought of calling your agent, specifically to ask you to audition, but I guess even that scared me, in case you turned it down.”

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? Once I discovered you were the author, I thought you’d rejected me, but you were scared I’d reject you.”

“We both got it wrong, Abbey. I’m so sorry.”

* * * * *

Abbey’s tension started to melt at the tenderness in his eyes and his voice. A flicker of unexpected hope ran through her. Perhaps she hadn’t destroyed everything between them after all. “I’m sorry, too. We seem to make a habit of getting things wrong, don’t we? But you were right about me prejudging things and jumping to my own conclusions.”

“I guess I did the same when I wouldn’t let Farrell send you the contract last December.”

She smiled. “I can tell you’ve been back in America when you start saying
I guess
.”

“I agreed to do an article for Planet Earth, and went over there direct from here.”

“To get away from me?”

“Partly, I gue—I suppose.” He gave her an amused smile and took a deep breath. “And I did something else while I was there, something I’d been telling myself for a long time I ought to do. I went to see Rachel’s parents, to tell them what happened the day she was killed.”

“They didn’t know?”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell them at the time about the fight we had or the reasons for it. They were too distraught, and it wouldn’t have helped them.”

“But why now?”

“Because I felt they should know that I hold myself responsible.”

“Jack, I once told you that you weren’t responsible for any driving errors Rachel may have made that night.”

“I know, and I’ve tried to tell myself that, too, but telling yourself and actually believing it are two different things.”

She could relate to that. How many times had she told herself all men weren’t like her father, but hadn’t really believed it? Not until— Quickly she brought herself back to the present. “What happened when you told them?”

Jack swallowed hard, and she knew he was struggling with his emotions. “Warren—Rachel’s Dad—hugged me and said,
It was an accident, son. Whatever happened between the two of you beforehand, it was still an accident
. Both he and Kay said they didn’t hold me responsible and neither should I.”

Abbey wished she was sitting nearer to him so she could put a comforting hand on his. “Has that helped? Have you forgiven yourself?”

He nodded. “I think so, yes.”

“I’m glad.” She hesitated, and went on, “Maybe this is the right time to tell you that I forgave my father and put my anger in the past, where it belongs. It’s a long story but this morning I went to his funeral and—” She broke off with a gulp as her tears welled.

In one swift movement, Jack crossed to the seat beside her. “Abbey, I’m so sorry.”

He caught hold of her hand, and she gave him a shaky smile. “A lot has happened and I want to tell you about it but, for the moment, there’s just one thing I want to say. I love you, Jack. I love you so much.”

Jack’s grip on her hand tightened, and she squeezed his in response.

“When we were on the cruise on the Seine, you told me you loved me, but I couldn’t say it to you. Something held me back, and now it’s probably too late but I wanted you to know.”

He kissed her mouth gently. “Ask me why I’m back here in Paris, Abbey.”

“Okay. Why are you here in Paris?”

“I was about to sign a contract for a year as a staff writer with the Paris city government.”

Abbey didn’t have to think about her response. “Then I’m going to stay here with you. If you still want me, of course.”

He stared at her. “Here? For a year? What about your career? What about the Rycroft filming?”

“If it means giving that up, I’ll do it. You’re more important to me than any acting role. I love you and I want to be with you, more than anything else in the world.”

He squeezed her hand so tightly that it hurt, but she didn’t care.

“Think again about what I just said, Abbey. I said I was
about
to sign a contract, but I was at the airport when Louise called me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was going home. Back to London, back to Rusthwaite, back to wherever you were. I sat here last night—over there, where we sat together—and knew I’d tried to live without you and maybe I
could
live without you, but I didn’t want to because my life wouldn’t be complete. This afternoon I refused the contract and I was on my way home. I was going to win your trust, even if it took me the rest of my life.”

“Oh.”

He laughed. “You’re doing it again.”

“Yes.” She could still hardly believe this was happening. “Wh-what now, Jack?”

“Tomorrow, my love, we’re going home to Rusthwaite. We have the official opening ceremony of the refurbished Old School to attend later this week, next week we have a drama festival in Kendal, where your teenagers are sure to take all the honours, and next month we start filming
The Rycroft Saga
. Meantime—” He kissed her again and stood up. “Don’t go away.”

Abbey watched him walk across to the reception desk and talk to the girl there. Her heart was so full she thought it would burst, and longing for him raged inside her.

He smiled as he came back. “Sorry, I couldn’t get the penthouse suite again. It’s an ordinary room but they’re large and comfortable, and it has a balcony and a view of the Eiffel Tower.”

Abbey laughed. “As long as it has a bed, who gives a damn about the view?”

Jack’s eyes softened with love and desire. “Come on, sweetheart.”

He held out his hand, and Abbey stood up. Hand-in-hand, they crossed the lobby to the elevator.

Abbey glanced momentarily up at the mirrors on the ceiling before Jack’s mouth claimed her lips in a kiss which sent rivers of fire through her body.

They were together again, and this time it was forever.

About the Author

Paula Martin lives near Manchester in North West England and has two daughters and two grandsons.

She had some early publishing success with four romance novels and several short stories, but then had a break from writing while she brought up a young family and also pursued her career as a history teacher for twenty-five years. She has recently returned to writing fiction, after retiring from teaching, and is thrilled to have found publishing success again with her contemporary romances.

Apart from writing, she enjoys visiting new places. She has travelled extensively in Britain and Ireland, mainland Europe, the Middle East, America and Canada. Her other interests include musical theatre and tracing her family history.

Please visit Paula on her website at http://paulamartinromances.webs.com/

Check in on her blog to find out what she's up to http://paulamartinpotpourri.blogspot.co.uk/

And be sure to send her a Tweet https://twitter.com/#!/PaulaRomances

If you enjoyed this story, please try another of Ms. Martin's works.

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