Park Avenue Prince(72)

From where I stood, the gallery looked smaller. The art was bold and modern and it ran the length of the space. I turned my head to see a pass-through, larger than a doorway, in the middle of the wall. She’d split the store? I looked around but there was still no sign of her, so I headed toward the opening. The other side was Grace through and through. I could tell this was the art she really loved. I grinned. I saw her in every piece. Her secret collection wasn’t so little anymore, and it certainly wasn’t secret.

Good for her. She was doing what she loved. Even though I had no right to be, I was so proud of her.

I crouched, set down my gift, and tore at the twine. I’d deliberately tied the wrapping with string so I could get it off quickly, but now the knot wouldn’t loosen.

I twisted the string, trying to soften the knot, but the light was dim and I couldn’t see what I was doing properly.

“Sam?” Grace asked from behind me.

I dropped my hands and stood, steeling myself for my first look at her. Even though I’d prepared myself, when I turned around the sight of her was almost too much. I’d forgotten how her generous spirit showed on her face, how her warmth was infectious.

“Hi,” I said. “You look . . .” Like the love of my life. “Beautiful.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back as I moved toward her.

“I came to apologize and explain. I just need a few minutes.” I didn’t expect her to forgive me, not right away, but I had to believe I had another shot with her. Whatever happened, I’d keep loving her my whole life.

Her expression was blank but she wasn’t asking me to leave. I had to take my chance. I took a deep breath. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever loved and the only one I ever will. I messed up.” And I would pay forever if she didn’t forgive me. “If I’d known I’d meet you, that I’d feel how I do, I’d have practiced. Made my mistakes, gotten them out of the way before you came along. But I had no idea what love could feel like. You are beyond my imagination, Grace Astor.”

My eyes flickered down her body. She wasn’t giving anything away. But while she would let me, I would continue to state my case. “You taught me to see myself as an optimist. And I know myself to be a fighter. I’m not giving up on you. Ever. I love you.”

Her chest rose as she drew in a breath. “I brought you this,” I rushed out, indicating the painting, half opened and resting against the wall. I had to put off her inevitable rejection as long as I could.

Grace shook her head. “Sam, no, I don’t need anything.”

Christ, she didn’t even want to receive a present from me. “It’s yours.”

“No, you don’t have to buy—”

“It’s yours. Whatever happens, it’s yours.”





Chapter Twenty-Four Grace





Sam’s gift was so unnecessary. All I wanted was him—to see in his expression that he still loved me. His eyes were wide, his hair mussed and longer than I’d seen before, but he was still my Sam. He always would be. Through everything, I’d never doubted Sam’s feelings for me. So I’d waited, hoped and prayed and believed he’d come back to me. Back to us.

“Please, Grace, just open it.”

I kneeled and slid the string off the brown paper. The edges were hard, like a frame. Had he brought me a painting? I discarded the paper, then the bubble wrap and tissue that was the last layer of packaging. Just a glimpse of the frame told me what he’d done. Tears began to roll down my face as I revealed the canvas. How had he found it?

“My Renoir,” I said, my gaze flitting about the piece, trying to take it all in. “You brought it back to me. How did you find—oh, Sam, the cost.”

“Shhh, please don’t think about it. It was always yours. And so was I.”

“You know, it’s funny,” I said, looking up at him. “I always thought I’d get it back one day. I was devastated when I had to sell it, but even when I delivered it to the buyer, I believed it would be mine again one day. A bit like you, Sam Shaw.”

“But . . .” His mouth fell open as he struggled to find the words.

“I don’t need the big speeches and the expensive paintings—just you. I only ever needed you,” I said.

His eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t deserve—”

“You deserve to be happy,” I replied. “And I deserve to be with the love of my life. Which is you. I know that. I’ve always known that. But I need you to understand that you can’t run from me when the storm comes, Sam. We have to stick together.”

He nodded. “I get it. Really, I do. I’ll never leave again.”

I reached for his hand. “Good. I hate being without you.”

His hand curled around mine and he pulled me toward him.

“You never have to be. Honestly, Grace, I want to prove it to you. I want to give you everything you want and deserve.”

“And what do you want?”

“I want you. I want you to move in with me tonight. I want to make up for lost time. I want to marry you tomorrow.”

“You want to marry me?” I asked, fighting for breath.

“Of course I want to marry you. You are the love of my life—I want it all.”