A Convenient Proposal

Chapter Ten

After spending Sunday and most of Monday in bed with a freshly bathed Igor at her side, Arden did, indeed, feel almost back to normal.

How could she be otherwise, with the amount of attention and care she’d received? Mrs. Campbell had checked in several times a day, bringing soup, tea, books and even music—a portable disk player and a variety of CDs. She hadn’t, fortunately, insisted on actually turning the thing on, and Arden had ignored its presence in the bedroom.

Kathy had stopped by with more books and stayed to chat, then took Igor for a long walk. Lauren brought a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of strawberry jam—the first food Arden felt like trying once her appetite began to resurface. Dana’s chicken soup made a wonderful first meal.

Though he had to go to work Monday morning, Griff had remained within her reach most of the time, once he’d brought Igor home. He and Dr. Campbell and Jim recounted for her their “safari” into the “dangerous jungle” beyond the farm’s border, making her laugh even while she still felt sick.

She tried to thank them for the return of her precious Igor, but they refused to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary.

“Happens all the time,” Griff’s dad said, with a shrug. “He just needs to learn the boundaries, is all.”

“You can walk him out there, once you’re well.” Jim had ventured only as far as the bedroom doorway. “Show him where to turn around and come home. He’s a smart one—he’ll learn in no time.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Griff said later, as he sat in the armchair he’d pulled over so he could put his feet up on the end of the bed.

Arden frowned at him. “Are you saying he’s not smart?”

“Just the opposite. I think he knew where he was and what he was doing. He probably enjoyed his day as a wild thing in the forest.”

“Would he have come back on his own?” Her eyelids tended to droop—the medications for dizziness and nausea made her sleepy.

“I expect he would have tried, but they get distracted, you know, by this scent or that leading off in another direction. I’m just glad he found me.”

“Oh, so am I.” She reached out to pet Igor’s head, then let her hand fall on the part of Griff she could reach—his sock-covered ankle. “Thank you so much.”

He was still there when the medicines wore off in the wee hours of Sunday morning and she ran for the bathroom.

“Here,” he said, when she’d finished. “Let me wipe your face.”

Sitting on the side of the tub, Arden sighed. “I am so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He patted her face with a dry cloth. “Everybody gets the flu.”

“I don’t.” She opened her eyes to see his skeptical smile. “Honestly, I haven’t been sick like this in years. Since college, at least. Except for the migraines. And even those had stopped.”

“Interesting.” Keeping an arm around her shoulders, he walked her back to bed. “I don’t know what you did before you went to Chaos Key. But maybe coming into contact with people again has introduced you to illnesses you haven’t encountered before. Pathogens are constantly mutating, you know, to avoid the immunity their hosts develop.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a scientist.” With a gulp of lukewarm tea, she swallowed the pills he offered. “When do you see Rajah again?”

“Monday afternoon will be my last visit. He’s doing great and I think Stacy can handle him from now on.”

“Miracle worker,” Arden murmured, snuggling in and closing her eyes as he tucked the covers around her. “Hero.”

“I’d better call the doctor. You’re obviously delirious.”

“My hero,” she insisted, then fell deeply asleep.

THAT WORD STAYED WITH Griff all day Sunday and through the work week.

Hero. What did it say about Arden’s feelings? Had she started to love him?

Or was he setting himself up to take another fall? Had he found the right woman…or made a fool out of himself once again? He couldn’t just ask her outright. Not while she was sick, and once she recovered, not just any old time—with his parents listening at dinner, or when Arden brought a huge, specially ordered lunch to the office on Wednesday as a way of saying thanks to Jake for helping find Igor.

And even though he and Arden spent the evenings together, Griff—for once in his life—didn’t want to push too hard. With a month to go before Valentine’s Day, he would prefer not to know if she thought of their relationship in terms of room, board and terrific sex. Not while he was doing whatever he could to transform their contract into commitment.

The weekend after Igor’s great escape presented them the perfect opportunity to show off their “romance” at the Morgan’s dinner dance, held in the country club. Griff was determined to be on his best behavior. No veiled insults or smart comments, no stalking out. No dagger-sharp looks. Just a polite evening spent being attentive to the woman he came with. The woman he loved.

Arden made that a simple task. She opened the door at the cottage wearing a close-fitting dress the color of thunderclouds, sprinkled with crystal beads like raindrops. “You look gorgeous,” he said, after swallowing hard. “I’ll be the envy of every man in the room.”

She inclined her head with the grace of a princess. “Thank you, kind sir. You’re dressed quite nicely as well. A dinner jacket becomes you.”

“Maybe we’ll win a trophy for Best Couture,” he joked. “Or they’ll name us king and queen of the ball.”

She cleared her throat. “I think that position’s already taken.”

Griff snapped his fingers. “Oh, right. Zelda and Al are the guests of honor. We’ll have to settle for second place.”

Arden gazed at him for a moment. “I guess we will.” A click of toenails at the end of the hallway advertised Igor’s approach. “I’ll put him in the sunroom and then I’m ready to go.”

“He’s holding a grudge,” Griff said when she returned, wearing a black wool coat over her gown. “I still can’t get near him without those lips curling.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” She waited on the sidewalk as he opened the door of the Jag. “I guess he’s just possessive.”

It occurred to Griff to wonder how Igor would react to a baby as part of their household, but that would be the wrong question to ask at the beginning of the evening. And since the doctor had diagnosed Arden with the flu, there didn’t appear to be anything to worry about on that score. Yet.

He had timed their arrival at the club a little on the late side, to avoid the possibility of encountering Zelda and Al without other people around. The line for valet parking moved smoothly tonight and they pulled right up to the entrance staircase.

“Trip Morgan was only a couple of years ahead of me in high school,” Griff told Arden as they climbed the steps. “He’s a big wheel with insurance, has an office in Atlanta and another one in Charlotte. His wife and Zelda are best friends.”

The Morgans stood at the door to the ballroom. “Hey, Griff.” Trip had a strong grip, which he practiced several times a week on the golf course. “Glad to have you back in town.”

“Thanks. This is my friend, Arden Burke.”

Trip’s sandy eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Arden. Thank you for coming. Kayli, it’s Griff and Arden Burke.”

Ice coated his wife’s greeting. “Welcome, Griff.” Kayli offered her fingertips, but he’d barely touched them when she jerked her hand away. “It nice to meet you, Ms. Burke.” Before Arden could smile, Kayli turned to the next person in line.

“Ouch,” Arden said, moving away. “I believe I’ve developed frostbite.”

“We could leave.” Griff halted just inside the door. “You don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

She shook her head. “We’re here to show off, remember? Let’s dance.”

Her reference to their arrangement left him feeling cold, but he managed a bow. “Your wish is my command.”

When they stepped onto the parquet dance floor, though, Arden melted into his arms and the world became a perfect place. “We’ll just keep dancing all night,” Griff said, putting his mouth close to her ear and inhaling the luscious scent she wore. “Maybe I can bribe the band to forget about their break.”

Her silent chuckle rippled through him. “There are union rules, you know.”

He hadn’t, actually. “Mandatory breaks?”

“And Broadway shows are supposed to end before 11:00 p.m. It’s in the actors’ contracts.”

“Now, why do you just happen to have these esoteric pieces of information in your brain?” Drawing back a little, he looked down at her. “Are you a former chorus girl? A closet stripper?”

“Nothing like that.” This time, she laughed out loud. “Nothing at all.”

They got two dances in before the dinner bell rang. Griff saw Kathy waving wildly at them from a table in the back corner. “I think we’re sitting with my family.” He walked Arden in that direction, noticing more than one appreciative male glance follow them. “One big happy family, isolated in the rear to avoid trouble.”

“Shush,” his mother told him, overhearing. “I’m assuming you’re on good behavior tonight.”

“I am.” He seated Arden and then took his own chair. “Are we sure there won’t be hemlock in the mashed potatoes?”

They all survived the meal, despite his dire expectations, and he raised his glass with goodwill for every single toast made to Zelda and Al. They could have a great life together, as far as he was concerned.

He’d intended to resume his nightlong dance with Arden when the band returned to the stage, but he looked around to see his dad pulling her chair back.

“Wait a minute,” Griff protested. “She’s my date.”

Jake nodded. “And I’m cutting in, son. That’s the way these social things work.”

“Don’t pout.” His mother put her hand on his arm. “Dance with me instead.”

“Nothing to pout about in that,” he said, meaning every word. “After all, you taught me the steps. At least I’m tall enough to lead now.”

Out on the floor, they glided past Arden and Jake.

“She looks beautiful,” his mother said. “So elegant and graceful.”

Griff steered past Jim and Kathy with a nod. “No arguments from me.”

“And I might be mistaken, but you seem quite happy.”

“I can’t say no to that, either.”

“Because of Arden, I gather?”

Griff grinned. “Ready for a dip?”

His mom smiled up at him and he bent close, supporting her back as she arched away. When they straightened again, a few bystanders applauded.

He grinned in that direction but continued dancing.

“Quite an evasive maneuver,” his mother said. “But I won’t forget the question just because you sent the blood rushing to my head. Is Arden Burke the woman of your future?”

Turning his head, he found her on the other side of the room, laughing at something his dad said. Could he trust in a future with Arden Burke? Could the desire they’d discovered blossom into something more for her, as it had for him?

“That’s the plan, Mom.” He prayed he was hiding the uncertainty chilling his insides. “Forever is what I’m shooting for.”

DR. JAKE CAMPBELL DANCED like a professional.

Arden knew she did not. “I apologize for stepping on your toes,” she told him. “Dance lessons never showed up on my list of classes.” In fact, band and dance music had played such a small part in her life that she could hear them without emotional qualms.

“What did you study?” Dr. Campbell’s blue eyes, more incisive than Griff’s, seemed to probe her soul.

“The usual,” she said, trying to cover her mistake. “Math, science, history…”

“And did you specialize in college? Griff mentioned you attended a New York school.”

“I didn’t finish—didn’t earn a degree.” Which was the truth; her concert commitments had prevented her from completing her last year’s course work. Her Julliard diploma had been an honorary award.

They danced in silence for a minute, and she began to hope the interview had ended. Knowing Griff, however, she wasn’t surprised when his father didn’t give up.

“So what exactly do you do with your life?”

She drew back to look into his face, which had much the same grooves as Griff, just more pronounced. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t have to earn a living.” He eased her through a turn. “You live alone, except for the dog. Why do you get up in the morning?”

The breath she drew was shaky, but she fought to keep her voice steady. “I don’t owe you an answer to that question.”

“I’m curious,” he said, still in the calm tone he’d been using, “since my son seems to be planning a future with you. What do you see yourself doing in a year, or five or ten?”

Tonight, she might be the one who walked out on the party. “I haven’t thought that far ahead, Dr. Campbell. Griff and I are still getting to know each other.” Would this music never end?

“I’m not sure he’s been thinking much at all, lately.”

Arden had finally caught her breath. “Or perhaps you simply dislike the fact that he’s not following the path you laid out for him. That he’s thinking about something other than what he can do for you.”

Dr. Campbell grinned. “You have claws, I see. What’s wrong with wanting to work with my son, taking care of the animals belonging to our friends and neighbors?”

“Nothing…unless Griff’s interests lie in a different direction.”

“And do they?”

“That’s a question you should ask him.”

He tilted his head, acknowledging that truth. “You’re beautiful and intelligent, Arden Burke. But are you good for my son? Can the two of you create a successful partnership?”

At long last, the music slowed and crescendoed into a final chord. Arden stepped backward, almost surprised and definitely relieved when Dr. Campbell released her.

“Griff thinks so,” she said, in answer to the last question. “Nothing else matters. Thank you for the dance.”

Then she turned and left the ballroom, seeking what little privacy the restroom could offer.

GRIFF SAW ARDEN BACK AWAY from his dad. She crossed the dance floor with quick steps and disappeared through the door to the restroom.

When Jake returned to the table, Griff nudged Kathy out of her chair and took her place next to their dad. “What did you say to her?”

He shrugged. “I asked the standard father-in-law questions. Where are you from? Where are you going?”

“Nothing you say in this kind of situation is nearly so harmless. I don’t want you threatening her, Dad. I won’t stand for it.”

From Jake’s other side, Rosalie Campbell made a sound of protest. “You make him seem like an inquisitioner.”

“Yes.” Griff nodded. “I’ve talked to my brothers-in-law, if you haven’t. He gave all three of them a pretty hard time, simply for having the temerity to want to marry his daughters.”

“I have a responsibility to keep my kids safe,” Jake said.

“You have a responsibility to allow us all to grow up. Stay out of this, Dad. Arden and I are doing fine without interference. If you’ve upset her in any way, I’ll…”

His dad gave a tolerant—and somewhat condescending—smile. “You’ll do what?”

Griff stood up. “I’ll start thinking seriously about where else in the country Arden and I will be spending the rest of our lives.”

He heard his mother’s gasp, but walked away without looking back.

INSTEAD OF PRIVACY, Arden found Lauren and Dana sitting in the lounge area of the ladies’ room.

Dana looked up as she came through the door. “Oh, no. That bad, was it?”

Lauren, on the sofa, slid to the side. “Come sit,” she said, patting the cushion beside her. “Dana, pour a glass of champagne.”

Arden widened her eyes as Dana went to a sideboard along the wall and took a bottle from the wine cooler sitting there.

“Zelda’s smart,” Lauren remarked, holding out a glass for her sister to refill. “She knows we come here to relax away from our men.”

“God bless them,” Dana added, just as Kathy came through the door. “They’re sweet and necessary, but sometimes they drive you nuts.”

“Dad’s special.” Kathy dropped into the armchair and put her feet on the matching ottoman. “Where Jim can be annoying, even frustrating, Dad is…”

“Brutal?” Lauren suggested.

Dana shook her head. “That’s a little harsh.”

Lauren sipped her champagne. “Demanding isn’t quite right.”

“Arrogant, impertinent and intrusive.” Arden swallowed a gulp of her champagne. Then caught her breath in case she’d insulted the man’s daughters.

But the three sisters nodded. “That covers it,” Kathy said. “You can be comforted by the fact that you haven’t suffered alone. Jim didn’t call me for a week after Dad had a talk with him.”

“I had to track Gary down at his mother’s house in Tennessee.” Dana rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t sure he wanted to come back.”

Lauren put a hand on Arden’s arm. “My Steve was a Marine, so he stood his ground. But he did say he’d never been so scared, and that I’d better be a good wife after what I’d put him through.” She winked. “I proved it to him on our wedding night.”

With champagne bubbles easing her tension, Arden was able to laugh with the other women. “I’m sure your dad is concerned about Griff’s happiness.” She got to her feet along with them. “But the decision belongs to Griff.” A thought struck her. “Did your father interrogate Zelda, too?”

The Campbell sisters didn’t know the answer to that question. As she prepared to return to the ballroom, Arden had to wonder if Jake Campbell’s interview with Zelda had anything to do with the broken engagement.

Stepping through the door into the hallway, she found Griff waiting just outside. “Are you all right?” He looked her over, took her hands in his, then released them and cupped her cheeks with his palms. “Did he give you a bad time? Tell me the truth.”

She could tell him only some of the truth—as usual. “He was…inquisitive. And intimidating. But I’m fine, and we’re wasting the music.” Clasping his hand, she walked toward the ballroom. “Come on.”

Before they could reach the dance floor, however, they encountered Zelda and Al, sharing what must have been a rare moment alone. Their romantic pose—she was straightening his tie as he brushed wisps of hair back from her face—daunted Arden.

But she and Griff couldn’t turn back, couldn’t change direction. She didn’t even get the chance to glance at him to see his reaction.

“Hello again,” Zelda said warily. Tonight’s dress was pink. “Thanks for coming.”

“It’s a lovely event,” Arden told her. “The champagne in the ladies’ room is a brilliant idea.”

Zelda’s laugh sounded like treble bells ringing. “I think so. I’ve always wished someone would do that—so I did.”

Al frowned at his fiancée. “What’s the point of champagne in the restroom?”

“I don’t get it, either,” Griff said.

“It’s a girl thing.” Zelda patted Al’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go dance.” She gave a little wave and led him toward the front of the room.

Arden looked at Griff, just behind her.

“Lead on,” he said. “At least till we get the rhythm.”

He wasn’t as good a dancer as his father, but his arm fitted exactly right around her waist, and their hands clasped like two halves of a whole. Their steps blended and their bodies swayed with the same timing, the same feel.

Arden sighed and rested her head on Griff’s shoulder. If she could trust, without reservation, only one person in the world, it had to be Griff Campbell. Honorable, conscientious, considerate and kind…what more could she ask of a man?

Great sex, she supposed. And Griff managed that feat, too.

As the evening wore on, they stopped occasionally to drink champagne or to chat with someone he knew, but never for more than one song. Older guests started to leave, but the younger crowd stayed on to dance. Fast numbers and slow ones, waltz, swing or rumba, Griff and Arden tried them all.

Until, around midnight, she had to admit her feet were giving out, and he confessed his bow tie was choking him. Leaving the dance floor, they found Trip Morgan and thanked him for his hospitality.

“One of the kids got sick,” he told them, finishing off the last of what looked like a glass of bourbon on the rocks. “Kayli went home to take care of him. The story of my life.” He poked a finger into Griff’s chest. “Beware, my friend. The good days only last for a little while.”

“That was either very profound,” Griff said, once they were in the car, “or totally absurd.”

“I vote for absurd.” Arden wound his tie between her fingers. “Your days are what you make them, good or bad.”

An echo of Dr. Campbell’s question came back to her. What do you do with your life? Why do you get up in the morning?

The man had a point. What had she accomplished in the last year? What would she accomplish in the years ahead?

Parking on the gravel drive in front of the cottage, Griff said, “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

Then he came around the back of the Jaguar, opened Arden’s door and bent down. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“You don’t have to carry me in,” she protested, laughing. “I can slip my shoes back on.”

“Just wrap your arms around me.” He scooped her up and lifted her out of the car. To save them both a fall, Arden did as he asked.

She also turned the doorknob so he could push through into the house. He shut the door behind them with one foot, but didn’t set her down.

“I’m heavy,” she murmured as he stood there. “You can’t hold me forever.”

“I think I could,” he said quietly. “I want to.” He kissed the top of her head, her temple, her cheekbone. Then Arden turned her face up so their lips could touch.

His arms tightened around her as he walked steadily down the hallway. She clung to his shoulders and gave herself up to the mouth plundering hers.

In the bedroom, he eased her bare feet to the floor. His hands moved over her body and her dress disappeared. Jacket, shirt, shoes, socks and pants followed, every layer between them stripped away.

“You are so much more than I imagined when we met,” Griff said, stretching her arms above her head as she lay beneath him. “I never dreamed this would happen to me.”

“Ah, Griff.” She wanted to say the words, to share the feelings that seemed likely to tear her apart.

But the wildness took over then, and she could only gasp. Fireworks couldn’t begin to describe the magic shooting through her. Exploding suns came closer to the mark.

When she could finally think again, when her body had relaxed and her brain reassembled, she turned her head to tell Griff what she felt.

Eyes closed, mouth open, he snored into her face.

But, thinking of champagne in the ladies’ room, Arden simply smiled.