The Welcoming

to talk with you about.”
    “I’ve already told you—I’ll wear a suit, but no tuxedo.”
    “It’s not about that.” She smiled and traced a fingertip over the back of his hand. “Even though I know you’d look wonderful in a tux, I think a suit’s more than adequate for an informal garden wedding. I’d like to talk to you about after the wedding.”
    “After-the-wedding plans aren’t negotiable. I intend to make love with you for about twenty-four hours.”
    “Oh.” As if she were thinking it through, she sipped her wine. “I guess I can go along with that. What I’d like to discuss is more long-range. It’s something that Block said to me the other day.”
    “Block?” Alarm sprinted upward, then centered at the base of his neck.
    “Just an offhand comment, but it made me think.” She moved her shoulders in a quick, restless movement, then settled again. “I mentioned that we were getting married, and he said something about hoping you didn’t take me away. It suddenly occurred to me that you might not want to spend your life here, on Orcas.”
    “That’s it?” He felt the tension seep away.
    “It’s not such a little thing. I mean, I’m sure we can work it out, but you might not be crazy about the idea of living in a . . . well, a public kind of place, with people coming and going, and interruptions, and . . .” She let her words trail off, knowing she was rambling, as she did whenever she was nervous. “The point is, I need to know how you feel about staying on the island, living here, at the inn.”
    “How do you feel about it?”
    “It isn’t just a matter of what I feel any longer. It’s what we feel.”
    It amazed him that she could so easily touch his heart. He supposed it always would. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt at home anywhere. I feel it here, with you.”
    She smiled and linked her fingers with his. “Are you tired?”
    “No.”
    “Good.” She rose and corked the wine. “Just let me get my keys.”
    “Keys to what?”
    “The van,” she told him as she walked into the next room.
    “Are we going somewhere?”
    “I know the best place on the island to watch the sun rise.” She came back carrying a blanket and jiggling the keys. “Want to watch the sun come up with me, Roman?”
    “You’re only wearing a robe.”
    “Of course I am. It’s nearly two in the morning. Don’t forget the wine.” With a laugh, she opened the door and crept down the steps. “Let’s try not to wake anyone.” She winced a little as she started across the gravel in her bare feet. With a muttered oath, Roman swung her up into his arms. “My hero,” she murmured.
    “Sure.” He dumped her in the driver’s seat of the van. “Where are we going, baby?”
    “To the beach.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders as she started the van. Symphonic music blared from the radio before she twisted the knob. “I always play it too loud when I’m driving alone.” She turned to look guiltily back at the inn. It remained dark and quiet. Slowly she drove out of the lot and onto the road. “It’s a beautiful night.”
    “Morning.”
    “Whatever.” She took a long, greedy gulp of air. “I haven’t really had time for big adventures, so I have to take small ones whenever I get the chance.”
    “Is that what this is? An adventure?”
    “Sure. We’re going to drink the rest of the wine, make love under the stars and watch the sun come up over the water.” She turned her head. “Is that all right with you?”
    “I think I can live with it.”
    It was hours later when she curled up close to him. The bottle of wine was empty, and the stars were blinking out one by one.
    “I’m going to be totally useless today.” After a sleepy laugh, she nuzzled his neck. “And I don’t even care.”
    He tugged the blanket over her. The mornings were still chilly. Though he hadn’t planned it, the long night of loving had given him new hope. If he could convince her to sleep through the morning, he could complete his assignment, close the door on it and then explain everything. That would let him keep her out of harm’s way and begin at the beginning.
    “It’s nearly dawn,” she murmured.
    They didn’t speak as they watched day break. The sky paled. The night birds hushed. For an instant, time hung suspended. Then, slowly, regally, colors seeped into the horizon, bleeding up from the water, reflecting in it. Shadows faded, and the trees were tipped with gold.