Built to Last (Harlequin Heartwarming) (19 page)

“Have fun?” he asked the kids, even as his
gaze went to Jo. It sharpened, became penetrating as he saw something on her face.

“Yeah!” Tyler kicked off his sandals. “You should have come.”

“The hot tub felt blissful,” Jo said, trying to disguise her mood.

He dropped the remote control onto the bedside table and crossed his arms behind his head, his narrowed gaze not wavering from Jo’s face. “So does lying here.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Melissa announced.

“Okay,” her father said, “but first, I’ve made some changes to tomorrow’s plans.”

Ready to snap his towel at his sister, Tyler turned instead. “You mean, we aren’t going to the swamp?” he asked in disappointment.

“We’re still going on the swamp tour. But I made a few calls while you were down in the pool, and I arranged for you two to go on a haunted history tour tomorrow night. It sounds suitably spooky. The hotel manager’s eighteen-year-old daughter will go with you
and,
” he added when his daughter opened her mouth to protest, “stay with you until we get in. Jo and I are going out on the town.” His eyes met hers. “I made dinner reservations at
Antoine’s, and we’ll sample Bourbon Street afterward.”

She smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

“No fair,” Tyler muttered.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you
want
to go on the voodoo tour? I can cancel…”

“No! That sounds cool. If we see a vampire,” he said with relish. “It’s just…it would be more fun if you came, too.”

“Thank you.” Ryan smiled at his son. “But I did promise Jo we’d do one romantic evening on our own. Mushy though that probably sounds to you.”

Tyler shuffled his feet. “No, that’s okay,” he mumbled.

Ryan looked at his daughter. “Melissa?”

She rolled her eyes. “We don’t need a babysitter!”

“This is a strange city. I couldn’t enjoy myself if I didn’t know someone was keeping an eye on you.”

She huffed a little but conceded that she could survive the evening without her father and Jo. If Tyler wasn’t too big a pain.

Ryan’s eyes met Jo’s again, and for just a moment she tried to let him see that something had changed. One charged look had to do—until tomorrow.

J
O WAS IN
a dreamlike state throughout the candlelit dinner at the elegant restaurant in a historic building. Her filet mignon with peppercorns melted in her mouth. Ryan, more adventuresome, tried grilled pompano, and they shared tiny, delicate puffs of potato. In a charcoal suit and tie, Ryan was incredibly handsome. Jo had bought the red silk sheath she wore tonight especially for the trip, and with her hair up and tiny diamonds in her earlobes, she felt almost beautiful. Maybe she really was, at least in Ryan’s eyes. His potent gaze never left her, even when the dark-suited waiter paused to be sure they lacked nothing.

She knew even as they talked that later she wouldn’t remember a word they’d said. The words weren’t important. The way his eyes darkened when she smiled, that was important. So was the tone to his voice, and the slow, impossibly sweet smile that was just for her.

His hand was warm and tender on the small of her back when they left the restaurant. He made the act of tucking her black velvet wrap around her shoulders a caress, his thumbs sliding along her collarbone.

Outside the night was cool, but Jo was
flushed from the romantic byplay and the intimacy of Ryan’s arm casually enfolding and guiding her. Shy with him now that she understood her own feelings, Jo found herself avoiding his gaze while helping to keep the conversation meaningless.

Bourbon Street was crowded.

They stopped briefly twice, listening to blues, raw and powerful. In neither club did they stay for long. After five or six blocks, Ryan said abruptly, “Do you want to stay?”

Jo shook her head. “I guess I’m not as adventurous as I thought I was. Do you?”

His smile was wry. “I’ve always admitted to being stodgy.”

Jo nodded behind them. “The blonde back there didn’t think so.”

“Blonde?” Endearingly, he sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed being ogled. “Right.”

He slid his arm around her waist. “You’re imagining things.”

Jo laid her head against him. “I don’t think so.”

“What about you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against her hair. They had turned a corner and found themselves on a dark side street. “What do
you
want?”

“I’d like a kiss,” she confessed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said with feeling.

Ryan turned her to face him.

“Mmm.” She lifted her face naturally and parted her lips the moment his touched hers. The gaudy, noisy party behind them faded. Only they existed. He kissed her tenderly, making promises with his mouth and receiving everything she could give him in return.

On their meandering route down narrow streets, a couple of taxis passed, a few other pedestrians. Mostly this part of the French Quarter was deserted and dark but for the apartments above shops. Light streaming through wrought-iron balconies made them look like black lace. The spires of St. Louis Cathedral reared against the dark sky. A ship’s horn could be heard on the broad, muddy Mississippi, only three blocks away but not visible. Restaurant doors yawned, bringing bursts of music and light and laughter. In between, unlit shop windows hinted at fascinating contents: antiques, Civil War relics, books and feather masks. Wrought-iron gates between stuccoed brick buildings allowed glimpses of dark gardens or cobblestoned carriage entrances. On one balcony, a
couple seated at a tiny table looked lovingly at each other and murmured in soft voices.

Ryan and Jo stopped in dark alcoves to kiss, lingering because this time was magical, stolen.
This
was the adventure, Jo thought dreamily. She couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t recognized that sooner.

He lifted his head after the last kiss and said roughly, “Jo, I wish this week could have been what I promised you.”

With one hand, she cupped his cheek. “In a way, it has been. Don’t worry, Ryan. I’ve had a glorious time.”

Amusement briefly infused his voice. “After this morning, I thought you might insist we take a baby alligator home as a pet.”

“The kids need a pet,” she said thoughtfully. “A kitten, or a puppy.”

“Tyler was taken with the small gator that swam next to our boat.”

“I noticed.” She nuzzled his neck. “I had to hold his hand to keep him from dangling it over the side.”

“Ah. Nice to know I’ve raised smart kids.”

“You have. I like them both.”

Ryan’s fingers tunneled into her hair, sending pins flying. “Jo, I don’t want to go back. How are we going to see each other?”

“In company.”

“I’m afraid that is how it would be…” Ryan was surprised to see that Jo’s expression, far from shutting down, had actually grown more open and warm.

His hands went still, and his voice almost shook. “Even after this romantic vacation, you still want to make a go of it?”

Heart swelling, she nodded.

“Jo.”
A tremor ran through him. “I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I want you to marry me,” Ryan said intensely. “I want to wake up next to you every morning, come home to you after work every day. I want you to be a mother to my kids. I know all that scares you, but I need you.”

Her heart must have burst, because joy and terror and love all ran like rivers through her body. Voice tremulous, she managed to tell him, “I need you, too.”

Now his fingers bit into her arms. In light from a balcony behind them, his face was taut and incredulous. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” Oh, no, her voice didn’t want to cooperate! Jo took a deep breath and finished more strongly, “I’m saying yes. I’m
saying I’ve figured out a lot. I can do this. If…if you really want me.”

“Want you?” He gave a hoarse sound that might have been a laugh. “From the first time I saw you.”

Tears dripped onto her cheeks. “Ryan…”

Ryan’s big hands cradled her face, lifted it so that she couldn’t miss the deep glow in his eyes. “Josephine Dubray,” he said huskily, “will you be mine, to have and to hold, ’til death do us part?”

“I will,” she said shakily, acknowledging to herself that she
was
afraid, but refusing to let the fear rule her life any longer.

Ryan kissed her with consummate tenderness and love. How could she have lived without this? she asked herself, as she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything in her. With her eyes closed, she seemed to be floating in emotions so powerful, they made what and who she had been seem dull and tepid and cowardly.

When the kiss ended and Ryan touched his forehead to hers, Jo said softly, “I wonder what my father would say if I asked him to give me away?”

“I think he’d be honored.”

Jo nodded. Forgiveness might not be love, but it felt right. Necessary.

“I will,” she repeated, and then smiled, brimming with joy she couldn’t contain. “I will.”