From the Heart

muttered. “I don’t like her being alone with Adams in there.”
    “Well, I missed my dinner.” Brewster touched his rounded stomach. “I’ll just go eat on the taxpayers’ money and keep an eye on your lady.”
    “She’s not my lady,” Slade mumbled.
     
    The restaurant was quiet and candlelit. By the table where Jessica sat with Michael was a breathtaking view of the Sound. On the night-black water there was moonlight and the scattered reflection of stars. The murmur of diners wasdiscreet—low tones, soft laughter. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the aroma of food and candlewax. Champagne buzzed pleasantly in her head. If someone had told her she’d been working too hard lately, Jessica would have laughed. But now she was completely relaxed for the first time in over a week.
    “I’m glad you thought of this, Michael.”
    He liked the way the light flickered over her face, throwing a mystery of shadows under her cheekbones, enhancing the odd golden hue of her eyes. Why was it she always seemed that much more beautiful when he’d been away from her? And had he, for a dozen foolish reasons, waited too long?
    “Jessica.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
    The gesture and the tone of his voice surprised her. “It’s good to have you back, Michael.”
    Odd that he’d always been known for his smooth lines and was now unable to think how to proceed. “Jessica . . . I want you to start coming with me on the buying trips.”
    “Come with you?” Her brow creased. “Why, Michael? You’re more than capable of handling that end. I hate to admit it, but you’re much better at it than I.”
    “I don’t want to be away from you again.”
    Puzzled, Jessica gave a quick laugh as she squeezed his hand. “Michael, don’t tell me you were lonely. I know there’s nothing you like better than zipping around Europe hunting up treasures. If you were homesick, it’s a first.”
    His fingers tightened on hers. “I wasn’t homesick, Jessica, and there was only one thing I was lonely for. I want you to marry me.”
    Surprise was a mild term; Jessica was stunned, and her face was transparent. Marry? She nearly thought she had misunderstood him. She could hardly conceive of Michael wanting to be married at all, but to her? They’d been together for nearly three years, business associates, friends, but never . . .
    “Jessica, you must know how I feel.” He placed a hand over their joined ones. “I’ve loved you for years.”
    “Michael, I had no idea. Oh, Michael, that sounds so trite.” She ran the fingers of her free hand up and down the stem of her glass. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
    “Say yes.”
    “Michael, why now? Why all of a sudden?” She stopped the nervous movement of her hand and studied him. “You never even hinted that you had any feelings for me other than affection.”
    “Do you know how hard it’s been,” he asked quietly, “contenting myself with that? Jessica, you weren’t ready for my feelings. You’ve been so wrapped up in making a success out of the shop. You needed to make a success of it. And I wanted to build up my own part of it before I asked you. We both needed to be independent.”
    It was true, all that he said. And yet how was she to suddenly stop seeing him as Michael, her friend, her associate, and see him as Michael, her lover, her husband? “I don’t know.”
    He squeezed her hand, either in reassurance or frustration. “I didn’t expect you would so quickly. Will you think about it?”
    “Yes, of course I will.” And even as she promised, the memory of a violent embrace on a windy beach ran through her mind.
     
    In the late hours the phone rang, but it didn’t wake him. He’d been expecting it.
    “You’ve located my property?”
    He moistened his lips, then dried them again with the back of his hand. “Yes . . . Jessica took the desk home. There’s a small problem.”
    “I don’t like problems.”
    Cold beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “I’ll get the diamonds out. It’s just that Jessica’s always around. There’s no way I can take the desk apart and get them while she’s in the house. I need some time to convince her to go away for a few days.”
    “Twenty-four hours.”
    “But that’s not—”
    “That’s all the time you have . . . or all the time Miss Winslow will have.”
    Sweat coated his lip and he lifted a trembling hand to wipe it away. “Don’t do anything