“About what?” she asked, lacing her fingers through his, amazed that even though her worries were about him, his touch calmed her.
Preston sighed as they walked through Chateau Nouvelle’s dark gardens, which had a lot of film and production equipment added to the landscape since they left a few days ago.
“I’ll be honest, Elise. I’m concerned that your mother’s passing and the emotions you must be feeling may have clouded your judgement over the last few days. I’m concerned that you may have made some promises you didn’t intend to make, and I think it would be unwise for me to hold you to them witho—”
“No! Hold me to them! Please hold me to them. Pres, I meant every word. I came back for you. I don’t want Hollywood, I want you. I didn’t make these decisions this weekend. I made them weeks and weeks ago. Months ago. A year ago! I just didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say. I didn’t want to just barge in on your life and I was sure you hated me and—”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said gently, pausing in their walk to face her. He ran his free hand through her hair, cupping the nape of her neck so that she was forced to look up at him.
He was beautiful in the moonlight, his face soft and tender, his hair jet black like onyx, his green eyes dark and deep, and Elise’s heart clenched and wept at the thought of ever losing him again.
“I think it would be unwise for me to hold you to them without giving you a few days to be sure,” he finished. “Because if we decide to stay married and move in together and keep moving forward? I’m going to give you my heart all over again, and it’ll be yours to take or break. And if you break it again, Elise, it will destroy me. I’m willing to take the risk, but I’ve got to hedge my bets a little. I need you to be sure you want marriage this time.”
“How much time?” she murmured, tears springing into her eyes as she imagined his pain over the past two years, and—if she was honest—dreading the thought of falling asleep without his arms around her tonight.
“A week.” He laughed ruefully, tilting his head to the side, his fingers gently massaging the back of her neck. “I’m not sure I can stand more than that.”
She took a step closer to him. “I love you, Pres. I love you so much. I don’t need a week. My feelings aren’t going to change in a week.”
He searched her eyes, wetting his lips, like he was tempted by her offer, but then he sighed, dropping one of her hands. “Please go along with this. For me.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“What time should I pick you up on Friday?”
“I insisted we wrap at six every day.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “It’s in my contract. I was planning to bother you every night until you agreed to stay married to me.”
He grinned at her. “Then I’ll pick you up on Friday at six, and we’ll have our Marriage Summit then. I mean, if you still want to.”
“Of course I’ll still want to.” They started walking again, this time back toward the front entrance of Chateau Nouvelle, and Elise tightened her grip on Preston’s hand. “I’ll miss you. One week is going to feel like twenty.”
“For me, too,” he said, as they rounded the house. “But I had hours to think about it, and I think I need it. I need to know that you had time to think it over.”
“I understand,” she said, her voice catching. How she hated the thought of him leaving her. How she dreaded the moment he drove away. And getting into bed tonight all alone? More tears burned her eyes at the thought.
But twice now, he’d referred to their time apart over the last two years—how much it had hurt him, and she understood that giving him this time would reassure him as to her intentions. She knew she didn’t need it, but what hurt a little was that he did. The least she could do was give it to him.
“Elise,” he said softly as their feet crunched onto the driveway gravel.
“Hmmm?”
He stopped walking, and she faced him, looking up at his face, which was fraught, like he was in pain. He shook his head, then seized her eyes again, holding them, searching them.
“You have to know… I need to tell you… I…I love you. I’m completely in love you, even more today than I was two years ago. I’d do anything to make you happy, to be with you, to belong to you, to know that you belonged to me.”
“I do belong to you,” she insisted, her heart thundering with gratitude and awe for his words.
He loved her.
He still loved her.
Though she had already suspected it was true, hearing the words in her ears was so welcome, so heartbreaking, she couldn’t help the tears that slipped from her weary eyes.