Page 3 of Eternal Love
“Look, I’m so sorry, but my flight is in four hours. I need to get a move on,” she murmured into the shoulders of Tim and Susan.
They broke apart the embrace. Tim removed his glasses, wiping them on his shirt. “Good luck, Julia.”
“We just know that everything will work out for you, and we couldn’t be prouder,” said Susan, finishing off her husband’s sentence in the way that only those married for years could do. Julia looked into the matching eyes of Camilla’s, the fine lines around them from years of smiling and laughing, and tried to memorize them.
Susan’s lower lip wobbled, but Julia said, “Please don’t cry, I’ll be fine. This is good for me, it’s what I want.” She gave them one last squeeze of the hands and made her way to the front door. The flash of sunshine yellow told her that her taxi was waiting. Waiting to take her to her new life.
She threw them one last look over her shoulder. “And when it’s ready, you can come over for a nice, long visit. Start your retirement off right.”
She’d already said her goodbyes to Camilla. No, not goodbyes, see you soons, as before she knew it, Camilla would be joining her for an extended vacation. Not that she was sure Camilla knew what that word was; the woman would work through an apocalypse, probably using the hordes of undead to her advantage.
Then Julia was in the taxi, then the airport, and, before she knew it, she was soaring through the sky and toward a new life, a new adventure.
****
“I’m crazy. I’m actuallycertifiable,” Julia muttered to herself, hands firmly planted on her hips, luggage scattered around her like debris, while she surveyed her new home.
It was worse than she thought.
She’d hoped for that instant connection, that heart thumping, skin-prickling feeling that yes, this was the one. Instead, she saw a challenge, and not in a heart-racing way, but in an all-consuming, stressful way. Every crumbling brick, every weed, every drip of a pipe, the rustle of the trees ... everything created a din in her head.
She shook her head like she could shake those thoughts away.No, look closer, at what excited you in the beginning.So, she did. Everything came into view and settled, like a postcard. The red-bricked manor loomed tall, with four turrets, a long, gated gravel drive with a fountain in the center. Ivy snaked up the building in a constrictive embrace. Behind the house, ten minutes’ walk away, was the sleepy village of Applewood, full of little shops and cafes. And beyond that, an expanse of green. So much lush greenness that she itched to paint it, despite never having painted more than a bedroom in her entire life. The air was clean and fresh on her skin. She let it snake over her, calm her, lift her heavy hair from her shoulders.
A challenge, yes, but also an adventure ... no doubt.
She glanced at her watch. She had a few hours before she was due to meet with the lawyer to sign some last-minute papers. Enough time to wash up and make a cup of tea. She lugged her suitcase inside and the doors creaked open wide to welcome her home.
Once Julia washed up and changed into jeans and a simple black t-shirt, she headed for the kitchen. A vast, bright space, all things considered. This was the room that would need the least work. She was making her way through the long corridor, dimly lit with flickering bulbs, when she saw him.
She blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Nope, he was still there.
He hadn’t seen her yet, and that gave her precious time to drink him in. He stood tall, with perfect posture, like he had an invisible piece of string tied against his spine. It was the kind of posture that made you instantly respect someone, and stand a little straighter yourself. He wore a suit, pinstriped, and old-timey. His hands and face were pale, like an ice sculpture. His side profile was chiseled and sculpted; she could only imagine what looking into his eyes would be like.
She gulped, internally scolding herself.What the fuck, Julia? A man is in your house, an intruder, and all you can do is ogle him?
But she couldn’t deny it. Her heart was racing for more than one reason. This was the feeling, this was what she was chasing earlier, pure, undiluted excitement, so raw that her blood felt fizzy.
Her throat was dry, but she made herself speak. “Hello? Mr. Finely, I presume?” This must be the lawyer. He had a key, after all.
The first thing I’ll be doing is getting that back, she thought.
To her shock, he ignored her. Simply carried on with what he was doing. Fixing a painting frame by the looks of things.
How rude.
“Excuse me?” Ice dripped into her tone, and she let it settle there.
Nothing.
Rude bastard.
She marched over to him, her slippers padding over the fraying carpet. At the first touch of her hand on his shoulder, he whirled around so quickly that she was nearly knocked off her feet. She stumbled back a step, the toe of her slipper catching on the carpet. He caught her expertly with a swoop of his arms. Bright blue eyes stared down at her, as wide as her own. His lips parted.
A prince. This man was a fairy-tale prince. This useless thought eddied from her mind at his first words.
“You ... you can see me?”
