A Very Exclusive Engagement(41)

She underestimated the impact that Liam’s proposal would have on her. It wasn’t real. It lacked all those critical promises of love and devotion for her whole life, but she couldn’t help the rush of tears that came to her eyes. It felt real. She wanted it to be real.

All the emotions that had been building up inside her bubbled out at that moment. Embarrassed, she brought her hand up to cover her mouth and shook her head dismissively. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Just ignore me. It’s been a rough couple of weeks and I think it’s catching up with me.”

“That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for,” he said with a reassuring smile.

Francesca took a deep breath and fanned her eyes. “I’m sorry. Yes, I will marry you.”

Liam took the ring and slipped it back onto her finger. He rose to his feet, still holding her hand in his. His thumb gently brushed over her fingers as he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”

Francesca was surprised to see the faint shimmer of tears in his eyes as he thanked her. It wasn’t love, but it was emotion. There was so much riding on this marriage. She had no doubt that he meant what he said. He would be as good a husband as he could be. At least, as good as he could be without actually being in love with his wife.

Liam pulled Francesca into his arms and hugged her fiercely against him. She tucked her head under his chin and gave in to the embrace. It felt good to just be held by the man she loved. As she’d said before, this had been an emotionally exhausting couple of weeks. The next year might prove to be just as big a challenge. But somehow, having Liam hold her made her feel like it just might work out okay.

It felt like he held her forever. When he finally pulled away, they both had their emotions in check and were ready to face whatever the next week might hold for them.

“It’s official then,” he said with a confident smile. “Let’s call your parents.”





Ten

Francesca’s precious retreat was a mess. Her beautiful townhome was in a state of disarray with moving boxes and bubble wrap all over the place.

Liam was maintaining the payments on her town house, so the bigger pieces of furniture she didn’t need could stay, but everything else was going to his place. She’d probably need these things over the next year. This wasn’t some overnight trip or long weekend she was packing for. She was getting ready to move in with the man who would be her husband in a few days’ time.

Her parents had taken it well. At least they’d seemed to. Who knew how long her father had ranted after they hung up the phone. Either way, they were making arrangements to fly to Washington on Thursday afternoon. Liam’s mother was thrilled. She didn’t hesitate to say how excited she was to come and meet Francesca. Liam’s mother and sister were coming Friday morning.

Their story was that they were so in love they didn’t want to wait another minute to be husband and wife. Incredibly romantic or unbelievably stupid, depending on how you looked at it. But no parent wanted their child to elope and miss their big day, no matter what they might think about the situation.

Things were coming together, although it didn’t look like it from where she was sitting.

The doorbell rang and Francesca disentangled herself from a pile of her things to answer the door. She’d asked Ariella to come over for lunch, hoping she and Scarlet could pull off the wedding hat trick of the year.

When she pulled open the door, she found her friend on the doorstep, but Ariella didn’t have the bright smile Francesca was expecting. Her brow was furrowed with concern, her teeth wearing at her bottom lip. She had faint gray circles under her eyes as though she hadn’t slept. And, most uncharacteristic of all, her hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. That wasn’t the Ariella she knew at all.

“Are you okay?”

Ariella’s weary green gaze met hers as she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

Alarmed, Francesca reached for her friend’s hand and pulled her inside. She sat Ariella down on one of the overstuffed living-room chairs that wasn’t buried in packing tape and cardboard. “I’ll make tea,” she said, turning to the kitchen.

“Is it too early for wine?” Ariella called out.

Probably, but if her friend needed wine, she’d serve it with breakfast. “Not at all. Red or white?”

“Yes,” she responded with a chuckle.

At least she was able to laugh. That was a step in the right direction. Francesca quickly poured two glasses of chardonnay, which seemed more of a brunch-appropriate wine, and carried them into the living room with a package of cookies under her arm.