Page 62 of The Couple Behind the Headlines

EPILOGUE

Three years later

ANY more of this awful tension, thought Imogen, and she’d explode. The restaurant was one of the best in New York, and the food was apparently sublime, but to be honest she’d barely taken any of it in.

And was it any wonder? How could she concentrate on food when all evening she’d felt as if she were sitting on knives?

‘Well?’ she said, looking at Jack and so about to burst with expectation that she was unable to stand it any longer.

Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, what?’

‘I’ve just graduated,’ she said, because, despite the celebratory dinner, it might need pointing out.

‘And how.’ He lifted his glass, clinked it against hers and gave her a proud smile. ‘Top of the class. Congratulations. Again.’

‘Thanks.’ She nibbled on her lip. ‘So … Is that it?’

Jack set his glass down and grinned. ‘Only if you want it to be. If you didn’t want to take up the position on the board you were offered, you’d have your pick of jobs.’

Imogen resisted the urge to give him a sharp kick under the table. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Wasn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘Then what did you mean?’

Jack looked baffled, as if he genuinely didn’t have a clue what she was trying to get at, and her heart lurched.

Oh, God. Had he forgotten?

She stared at him as he gazed innocently back, her mind galloping. It had been three years since he’d made that promise on the plane, the one that had kept her going through the tough times when she’d struggled with her workload and had been tempted to throw it all in, but not once in all that time had he mentioned it again.

So what with time and the immense effort he’d put into establishing his business and working on his relationship with his father, he could well have forgotten.

Or been having second thoughts.

The high Imogen had been riding for days dipped for a moment and then she pulled herself together because, either way, she could hardly ask.

‘Oh, nothing,’ she said lightly, telling herself that it didn’t really matter anyway. She didn’t need a ring on her finger to know that Jack loved her. She had proof of it daily. ‘Forget it.’

Flashing him an overly bright smile, she twisted round and rummaged in the handbag that hung off her chair, hiding her face just in case the disappointment had made its way there.

‘You didn’t really think I had, did you?’

At the teasing warmth in his voice, Imogen stilled. Her heart skipped a beat and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. Slowly, she lifted her head and turned round to face him. Jack was smiling the smile that melted her bones every time and suddenly everything that had been all wobbly and blurry swam back into focus and settled.

‘Well, it has been a long time,’ she said, letting out the breath that she’d been holding as her heart started beating again.

‘Quite long enough.’ He tilted his head and held out his hand. ‘Is this what you were looking for?’

Her gaze dropped to the ring he was holding and she stared at the trilogy of diamonds flashing in the candlelight, her throat tightening with emotion and the backs of her eyes prickling. ‘I was actually looking for my lipstick,’ she said, and hiccupped.

Jack smiled gently. ‘You know, your sense of humour is just one of the many, many things I love about you. I love your determination, your resilience and your patience. I love the way you put up with my flaws and make me a better man.’ His smile turned wicked. ‘I particularly love that thing you do with your—’

‘Jack,’ she interrupted with mock horror, and glanced round to check that no one was listening.

He laughed, then sobered. ‘Imogen, darling,’ he said, getting up and moving round to kneel beside her chair. ‘I just adore you. Will you marry me?’

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