If Winter Comes (19 page)

“He is, and I already
have,” he said.

She gaped at him,
tugging her hand loose. “He is?” she burst out.

He nodded. “I called
him. He was here for those first few critical hours until we were sure you were
going to be all right. Then I persuaded him to pretend he was still on vacation
so I could take you home with me.”

“However did you get
him to agree?” she asked, aghast.

He touched her cheek
gently. “I told him I was in love with you, country mouse, and that I was
reasonably certain you were in love with me.”

Her eyes closed
briefly. “Is it real, or am I just dreaming again?” she said, more poignantly
than she knew.

He stood up, drawing
her with him. His face was strained. “We’d better go call your father before I
give in to the temptation to show you how real it is. Think how shocked Mrs.
Brodie would be,” he added wickedly.

She reached up and touched
his cheek. “Are you sure?” she asked quietly. “I’m not worldly, and…”

“Hush.” He brushed her
mouth with his. “You’re my priceless treasure, and I’ll treat you like
paper-thin glass. All right?”

She flushed and turned
away from his mischievous smile. “I thought we were going to call Dad.”

He drew her into his
arms. “In just a minute,” he agreed, bending his head. “I think it can wait
that long, don’t you?”

She went on tiptoe to
meet him halfway, her warm smile disappearing under the slow, expert pressure
of his mouth. Yes, the phone call could wait. Everything could wait. She closed
her eyes and gave herself up to the one man in all the world whom she could
love forever. In the back of her mind were the lines of a poem…“Keep spring
within your heart, if winter comes, to warm the cold of disillusion.” The
winter approaching would find spring flowering in her soft eyes.