A Hopeless Romantic Part 45

"Yep," Nick said. He nodded. "I wish I didn't, most of the time. But I do."

"You-"

"Yes," said Nick calmly. "It's a real pain." He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. "You are a thorn in my side, Laura." He bent his head and kissed her. After a few seconds he lifted his head, still holding her tightly. "An annoying, gorgeous thorn in my side. And I can't seem to get rid of you, of feeling like this. So that's why I'm here. I'm in love with you, and I know whatever you say, I always will be."

He kissed her again.

"I thought you should know," he said, his voice a little hoa.r.s.e.

"My G.o.d," said Laura, struggling to know what to say. "We're in the kitchen."

Nick laughed, and held her tighter. He looked down at her and kissed her gently. "Oh, Laura."

She lolled against him, pressing her body against his, feeling as if she was coming alive as she touched him. Nick, here, in front of her, holding her.

"Laura, I know you think us together is going to be hard. I know you think we're too different, that it's all too odd. But it's not. There was something my mother said to me when I saw her: If you find someone you love, you have to do something about it. I tried to do something about it before, you know. To help you, to make things better for you. But it wasn't the right thing to do. I should have come down here straight after you left me."

"Why?" said Laura, intrigued. "What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter." Nick kissed her again. "Does not matter at all."

She pressed her hands on his chest and stepped back. "You," she said, nodding. "You gave the money. Didn't you? You gave the money to the program at work!"

"No," said Nick.

"Yes, you did," said Laura, staring up at him. He grimaced, then inclined his head slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Oh, Nick. I knew it wasn't Marcus! It was you! Why did you do it?"

"I wanted..." he said, shaking his head. "Laura, you were so upset, that night in the car. I just wanted everything to be better for you. I thought I couldn't have you, that we were never going to work out, and it really got to me, seeing you like that. You were so mysterious about work and everything-and then when you left, Charles explained what had happened with Marcus. So"-he bent his head-"I thought, Well, if we can't be together, I can still do something to make her life better. And other people's, too," he added disingenuously. "But yours most of all.

"This is what my mother said to me," he went on. "She said I was a fool if I let you get away. She told me to stop making odd gestures like bailing you out at work anonymously. She told me to get down here and tell you I love you. Myself. In person. Because if you love someone, you have to be brave and tell them. Don't let them go."

"That's what someone said to me," said Laura, thinking of Mary and her letter.

"And if you say no, I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to convince you I'm right. I promise. I won't leave you alone. Because it's not about who's what or where or anything. We should be together. The other stuff doesn't matter. That's all."

"We should," Laura echoed. She was feeling faint. She never felt faint. Her head was spinning; she felt light-headed, weightless in Nick's arms. She leaned against him again. "Yes," she said. "We should. And you're right, G.o.d! You're right. Who cares about the other stuff?"

"You mean it?" he said.

"I do," Laura said, looking up into his face. "You know something?"

"What?"

"I've always seen us at Chartley. Not here. I tried to picture it, but I always thought this"-she gestured around the kitchen-"might be weird, having you here."

"And?"

"And it's not," said Laura, smiling up at him. "It makes perfect sense. I like your house better, though."

"Shall I take you up there tomorrow?" he said. "For the weekend? Would you like that?"

"I can't think of anything I'd like more," she said. "Is-there anyone there?"

"No," he said. "Mum left last week, but she's coming back for Christmas. No sisters, either. Just you, me, and Chartley."

"And all the ghosts of relatives past," said Laura.

"Yes," said Nick. "But they don't matter, do they?"

"No, they don't," said Laura. "They just don't. You and me. That's what matters."

Then he kissed her again, her head in his hands, just the two of them, wrapped around each other, clinging desperately to each other; and Laura gave herself up to the sheer enjoyment of it for several minutes, or it could have been hours, days, she had no idea, for once it was just the two of them, alone in time and s.p.a.ce, nothing else to bother them, no geological layers of mistrust and anger and exes and stupid things like cla.s.s and money- "Er...Laura?"

Laura and Nick sprang apart, and looked into the hallway. There in the corridor, looking completely sh.e.l.l-shocked, were Jo and Hilary, each clutching her handbag and a bottle of wine. They said simultaneously: "The front door was open...."

"The entry phone was off the hook...."

Then both trailed off into silence as Laura looked at them, not sure what to say.

Nick coughed, and stood up straight. "Er, h.e.l.lo," he said.

"Hi," said Jo and Hilary in unison. Hilary raised her hand weakly. Jo's mouth was wide open.

Laura looked at them, then back to Nick. She smiled at him, a small, definite smile. He looked down at her and smiled back, his eyes full of understanding and warmth and the amus.e.m.e.nt she knew they shared, which was why she loved him and knew him, better than anyone else. She stepped forward, holding his hand.

"Jo, Hilary," she said. "I'd like you to meet Nick. The Marquis of Ranelagh. Er...he's staying for supper. Aren't you?"

"Yes, if that's all right with you two," said Nick. Hilary and Jo nodded mutely, and Nick looked around the kitchen. "Right," he said, taking off his jacket. "Why don't I set the table?"

Table of Contents "It can't work, Nick. Can't you see? You're part of this."

Also by Harriet Evans.

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