Page 46 of London
“And I still have the paperwork and the bookshelves to organize.”
“We’ve plenty of time.” She raised her tired arm to glance at her watch, then snapped to attention when she noticed the date.
“Um… Gerard?” she whispered, her voice suddenly uncertain.
“What?” He’d closed his eyes in exhaustion and rubbed his forehead with battered knuckles from his skirmish with the new lock.
“Today is Saturday, right?”
“Uh-huh. That’s probably why we haven’t heard anything from the police,” he answered absently.
“Yeah.” She wiped sweat from her upper lip, suddenly nauseated. Francesco was going to kill her! She’d screwed up royally this time. “I was asking because… Um, my art exhibit opens in three hours.”
Chapter Twelve
“What?” Gerard jumped up as though the sofa had bitten him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I forgot,” she moaned. “You know, with the robbery and all, I was distracted. It just slipped my mind. Besides, I did tell you it was on Saturday.”
He shook his head. “Yes, but you didn’t tell metodaywas Saturday.”
He raked his fingers through his hair, wincing when he remembered they were covered in dust and God alone knew what else. He wasn’t angry at Linda but at himself. This was all his fault. He couldn’t let her miss her big night because she’d helped him clean up his flat.
“Damn!” He took a deep breath, pulling himself together. “Okay, let’s see. Three hours. We can still make it on time. We’ll shower quickly, then go to your place so that you can dress and do whatever else it is that you have to do.”
He dashed into the bedroom, rummaged through his closet, and blew out a sigh of relief. His good black suit hung in the far corner, along with the dress shirt and tie he wore with it, still wrapped in the plastic garment bag the cleaners provided. He hadn’t worn it since getting it cleaned after the wedding last spring.
“I have my suit,” he shouted through the open door. “The burglar didn’t find it. I have shoes to go with it somewhere.”
He started removing the shoe boxes they’d put away earlier.
Linda came up behind him. “What are you looking for?”
“Shoes. Looking for my shoes.”
She giggled. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s freaking out right now? What’s going on?”
How could he explain to her how important it was to him that he look his best? He wanted her to be proud of him, of having him by her side. This event was important to her and that made it important to him. He didn’t want to embarrass her in any way. He sighed. He was behaving like some goddamned school girl going to prom.
Discovering the shoes he needed, glad to see they were unscuffed, he removed his t-shirt and gave them a quick polish. Only then did he noticed Linda’s bare foot tapping silently against the wood floor. He stopped and glanced up.
“What?”
Tenderness filled her blue eyes. They softened even more when she knelt beside him.
“Thank you for caring so much,” she whispered. “You have no idea how touched I am,amore. Nor how proud I am that you’ll be with me tonight.”
Putting the shoe aside, he drew her closer, framing her face between his palms.
“Of course I care,chérie. Don’t you understand how important you are to me?”
She swallowed, unshed tears sparkling in her eyes.
“I’m starting to understand,” she said softly.
He drew her into his arms, pressing her head gently against his bare chest. He knew they were running out of time, but right now time stood still.
“Ti voglio bene,” he whispered huskily, his throat dry, his lips touching the delicate lobe of her ear.
