Page 61 of The Heiress's Secret Baby

‘I got given my life back but somewhere along the way I forgot to live it. It was easier not to care. I thought I was in control. I set goals. I worked, I ran, I didn’t stop. The more I worked, the harder I pushed my body, the less I had to think. I thought I had found a way to conquer my demons, a way to take charge, but I was hiding. And then you came along and ripped my hiding place to shreds.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Tears were trembling on her lashes and he released one of her hands to capture the sparkling drop.

‘Don’t be. I’ve been more alive the last few weeks than I was in the last ten years. I worked away this week,’ he confessed. ‘Stayed at the vineyard, spent time with my parents.’ He smiled at her. ‘Trying to get my number one spot back with Jean. You’re right, of course, there’s a lot I can help them with even in England. Advice, contracts, that kind of thing.’

‘I’m glad. They’re so lovely.’

‘That’s funny, they say the same about you. I have to admit there’s a bit of me that thinks you’ll agree just to spend more time with my parents.’

‘Agree to what?’

‘To marry me.’

* * *

Polly blinked. Had she heard him right? ‘To what?’

Gabe squeezed her hands tighter. It was almost painful but she was glad of the contact. It was proof that she was actually here, on a balcony in Paris, being proposed to.

‘I should be on one knee...’

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Just say it again.’

‘I don’t have a ring. I hoped we might include some jewellers on our antique trail, find something vintage. Sapphires, like your eyes. I was going to wait till then but I can’t,’ he confessed, the dark eyes so full of love it almost hurt to keep looking into them. ‘Polly Rafferty, je t’aime. And if you would do me the honour of letting me in, of being my wife, then I promise I will always love you. And the baby. I’ll be the best husband, the best father I can be. I want to start living again, Polly. I want to start living with you by my side.’

Polly struggled to find the right words. She couldn’t. She had no idea what to say. ‘And Mr Simpkins?’

‘He has always had my heart,’ he assured her, his face lightening with hope, with love. ‘Mr Simpkins, Rafferty’s, Hopeford. Everything you love, I love too. And I hope you feel the same way about my home, my family. My heart belongs to you.’

‘And you have mine.’ It wasn’t so hard to say the words after all. ‘I know the future is utterly terrifying. But with you by my side I can face it, whatever it holds.’

Gabe let go of her hands, reaching up to cup her face, pushing her hair back, his hands tangling themselves in its lengths. ‘Are you sure?’

Polly slipped her hands around his waist, pulled him in closer. ‘I’ve never been surer of anything. I love you too, Gabe. I think I loved you from that very first day. I had never met anyone so infuriating, so annoying, so challenging.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Anyone I fancied more.’

‘I thought you were going to slap my face.’

‘The accidental kiss? I think it was meant to be.’ She stood on her tiptoes and found his mouth at last, cool and firm and sure. ‘I think we were meant to be. I think it was magic.’

EPILOGUE

POLLY DIDN’T THINK Rafferty’s had ever looked more beautiful. Her talented window dressers had moved some of the make-up counters and beauty areas back, draping the rest in purple and cream fabric, and suspended huge intricate paper sculptures in the same colours from the ceiling. Upstairs, she knew the tearooms were decorated in similar colours ready to welcome her wedding guests.

A stage dominated the middle of the floor, right under the point of the iconic dome. Cream vases, the size of a small child, were filled with silver branches creating an ethereal woodland effect.

The chairs were set in a wide semi-circle around the stage, each row flanked with a massive altar candle, the flames casting a dancing light over the room, discreetly backed up with the store’s lowlights.

They were usually open until nine in the evening on a Saturday but today, for her wedding, Rafferty’s had done something even the Blitz had never forced them to do.

They had closed early.

Most of the seats were already filled. Suited men and elegantly dressed women in a bright assortment of colours whispered and snapped pictures of the fairy-tale scene. There were several overexcited children fidgeting beside their parents, tugging at their best clothes, and Polly breathed a sigh of relief knowing she had a room put aside for them, complete with films, toys and paid babysitters to watch over the younger guests.

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