Page 117 of A Searing Acquaintance
“Now see here, Barb?—”
His wife moved a step closer and poked him in the chest with a red-lacquered nail. “Jane and Lizzy owe you nothing more than what you’ve given them for the past ten years. You’re interested only when you can make a joke out of it. They deserve more from you, Ted. They’ve chosen good men who are behaving better than you are.”
Barbara turned to her shocked daughters. “Come on, girls. They’re playing Motown. Let’s dance.”
Ted watched his family walk off and join the Gardiners on the dance floor. Jane was in her husband’s arms, and Elizabeth was standing off in the shadows with Darcy. He shook his head and headed to the bar.
Elizabeth leaned into Darcy. “Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Yes. Very.” She smiled and pulled him down into a soft kiss.
“You were magnificent, love. I’m very proud of you.”
“Took me long enough.” Elizabeth raised her chin, meeting his worried eyes. “It’s sad and awful and exactly what I needed to do. And I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.” She glanced over at Sylvia and Bernard. He appeared to be calming her down through a combination of liquor and a back massage.
Darcy followed her gaze. “I’ll have someone keep an eye on her.”
“Wow.”
Darcy felt her tremble. “What is it?” he asked, stepping back to search her face.
Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes bright. Her lips held the hint of a teasing smile. “I was right about you after all, Mr. Noir. Youdowork for MI6. All this stuffy business folderol is a cover.”
“Ah, you’ve found me out.” Relieved, he smiled. “I believe spyprotocol requires that I take you to a small, undisclosed location for a full interrogation.” He bent close to her ear. “The cloakroom would suffice.”
“Oh, you and your strip searches.” She looked up at him. “Before I came over, you gave her the full-on Mr. Noir, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Not nostalgic for that one, are you?”
“Mr. Noir, Ferdinand… I love them all.” She ran her finger along his jawline and nuzzled his neck, making him shiver in that way she loved. “I missed you last night. How was your sleepover with Charles?”
“You mean the Energizer Bunny? I hope he doesn’t crash and burn before they even check into their room. He was still bouncing off the walls when I went to bed, and he was in the kitchen drinking coffee when I woke up.”
Elizabeth smiled and refrained from mentioning that Jane had been in much the same state.
“I suppose I should tell him that Sporty, Ginger, Scary, Baby, and Posh Spice will definitely not be making an appearance tonight.” Darcy gave her a sheepish grin and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. His finger slowly whispered down along the sculpted neckline of her soft, pink dress. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you with your hair up.” He kissed her softly on the ear. “The next slow one is ours. Our first dance.”
“We’ve never danced,” she marveled.
Diana Ross’s voice faded and Frank Sinatra’s drifted over them. Darcy led her to the dance floor.
“I only want to dance with you. Always.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“That’s a jewel of an idea, a diamond in the rough, my boy!” cried Mr. Philips. Mr. Hill nodded approvingly.
Elizabeth, like the others around the table, eyed Mr. Hill’s nephew, Tim Hudgins.Nice kid when he isn’t staring at his phone.She sighed and glanced at her own phone. There were three voicemails and six texts, and Mr. Philips would not stop talking. She had rarely sat through a longer, duller ideas meeting.
Sparked by the success of the sports book, Elizabeth had already rushed through production of a calendar using some of its photos and snippets of text. Currently, she was sifting through a growing number of proposals from public relations firms and agents hoping for inclusion in a second volume. Exciting as that was, she was having a hard time focusing on the writing she really cared about. Kelleton Press, which now had seen eight chapters and a full outline ofA Cold Decade: Blacklisted in America, was prepared to hand her a contract once she delivered more of her work, but she had little besides chapter notes, character sketches, and stores of research. After becoming immersed in the profiles of various Hollywood figures who’d had their careers ruined or derailed after becoming ensnared in the investigations, Elizabeth had gone on a writing binge. But then she’d been distracted by Jane’s wedding and by all the wonderful happenings in her life revolving around a certain Mr. Darcy. The growing demands on her atwork, and the newfound respect she’d earned there, didn’t seem as exciting as she might have thought a few months ago.
That night, Darcy came home late from a dinner meeting, exhausted and hoarse, to find Elizabeth sitting in the middle of the living room floor, her open laptop in front of her, papers scattered in organized piles around her, and a yellow highlighter behind one ear. The left ear, he noted, the one especially sensitive to his attentions. He gave her a soft smile and, noting her concentration, headed off to change. When he walked into their bedroom, he stopped, as had become his habit, to survey all things Elizabeth: her hairbrush on the dresser, a magazine and writing journal on her nightstand, a pair of her socks on the floor. After three weeks of living together, he should be accustomed to her presence, her body warming his bed every morning and every night, but the newness and the wonder hadn’t worn off.
When he returned to the living room, clad in a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, the half-dozen stacks had been reduced to three file folders, the laptop was closed, and Elizabeth had disappeared. He found her in the kitchen making hot chocolate in the small saucepan she’d brought with her rather than using the French-made machineheowned that was supposed to make preparing cocoa easy and perfect. He’d noticed she liked the calming rhythm of stirring things in her little saucepan and never used measuring spoons when she cooked or baked. Her comfortable domesticity surprised and pleased him. Seeing the highlighter still nestled in place, Darcy moved behind her and put his arms loosely about her waist.
“Did it go well? Did the other guys agree to the delay?” she asked.
“You mean, was it worth missing dinner with you?” He leaned in and kissed her neck. “Nothing is worth that, but yes, we’ll revisit the agreement in three months.”
