Page 94 of Bride Under Contract

‘She’s here?’

‘Pacing all day.’ Arif smiled. ‘I told her to get some rest, that you might not be back till tomorrow. You made good time.’

‘You mean she’s here now?’

‘In your residence.’

Carter wasn’t sure if he was sleepwalking, or if he was having some delusion and would wake with a fever, but this was not like the last time. He felt invigorated, rather than collapsed. Curious, rather than frantic, as he walked through his part of the property.

Climbing the stairs, he found he wasn’t avoiding the pictures now. He could see his parents smiling, and Hugo too.

Then he pushed open his bedroom door and indeed Grace was there, lying on her back, wearing a muslin nightdress, the fan blowing.

He could not quite believe she had followed him here.

That she was waiting at his home.

And then he could—because he knew she loved him or he’d never have come here.

She was still wearing the ring.

‘Grace...’ He sat on the bed, and this time when he reached for her slender shoulder he did not pull his hand back. ‘Grace!’

Her eyes shot open, and so did her mouth, but she said nothing, just wrapped herself around him, coiled around him, more sweet pea than bindweed.

‘I thought you were dead...’

‘You were having a very good sleep,’ he teased, holding her and breathing her in. ‘Perhaps you fell unconscious with panic?’

‘Stop!’ She pulled back. ‘You lied...’

‘I did—but I had to.’

‘No.’

She wanted to tell him it didn’t work like that—except he’d climbed into bed and, given it was his bed, she couldn’t really refuse him entry.

‘I’d have come with you.’

He shook his head, tried to explain, but Grace had been waiting a long time to say what she’d come here to say.

‘I know you don’t want anyone, but...’

She’d thought he had died every moment since she’d seen the plans he had left behind, and her biggest regret was the one thing she hadn’t told him.

‘I love you. I’m sorry, and I know you don’t want to hear it...’ She put her hands up when it looked as if Carter might say something. ‘But let me speak. I want you to know that. And I want to say a proper goodbye.’

‘Why would you come all this way to say goodbye?’

‘Because goodbyes are important.’

‘I know,’ he told her. ‘But this was never about goodbye, Grace.’

Carter lay down and the bed was like a pillow, and then she was running her fingers over his eyes, and his scratches, and he was aware of just her fresh air scent.

‘I hated the thought of you here,’ he told her. ‘I didn’t want you on a jungle walk... I didn’t want you coming back...’

‘Don’t be—’

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