The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

of my old life and I don’t want to. I want to find a new direction with you and our baby. Wherever the wind blows us. I went to Monte Carlo to tell you that.”

      Hope spread across her face.

      “I want to believe you,” she said cautiously. “But I trusted you, and you smashed my heart all to pieces. I can’t be a replacement for your wife. How do I know you’re really over her?”

      “I don’t want a replacement. Amber was only one color, and that was right for me before. You’re all the colors of the rainbow. It’s tattooed on you permanently because that’s who you’ll always be to me.”

      Her eyelids dropped for a beat, and when she opened them again, the soft brown sucked him under. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

      Because he’d learned that the right thing had context. The right thing wasn’t always the same from day to day, and sometimes you had to do what was right for the person you were at that moment.

      He grinned. “Several transatlantic flights in a row give you lots of time to think.”

      “What do you want? Did you come loaded down with a ring and a fancy marriage proposal?”

      The pain in her voice tried and convicted him. He’d hurt her, and saying the right thing wasn’t nearly enough to make up for it.

      “No.” He’d gone against the very fiber of his being and come here empty-handed. “This time we’re doing things according to your schedule. I’ll follow you wherever you go, whether we’ve got a piece of paper calling us husband and wife or not. I will never again utter the word marriage until you flat out say that’s what you want.”

      “Your mother will be upset.”

      Obviously Mama had treated Evangeline to an earful of the Fran Wheeler Sermon on the Merits of Marriage. Hopefully it hadn’t stacked up Evangeline’s disfavor against him any higher.

      “She’ll get over it. This is about us and what we want.”

      “And you don’t want to marry me.”

      “On the contrary. Nothing would make me happier than to claim you as my wife before God and everybody. But it’s your choice. Our relationship will be how you define it.”

      Amber had been his wife; that role fit her and what they’d shared. Evangeline was something else and fit the man he was now. The harder he tried to pin her down, the harder she’d flap her wings to escape. And he wanted her to be free to fly, as long as she waited for him to catch up.

      A shrewd glint in her eye set off a frisson of nerves. “What if I wanted to live in Dallas? What would you say?”

      “I’d say who are you, and what have you done with the woman I love?”

      Her gravelly laugh clawed through his stomach with heat he’d missed. “My name is Evangeline La Fleur. And your name is?”

      The best question of all and the easiest to answer. “Matt. My name is Matt.”

      “Nice to meet you, Matt.” She shook his hand solemnly. “That’s a nice name. I like it. You know the funny thing about names? They change. You think you’re this person, the one the name refers to, and then all of a sudden, you have to redefine yourself.”

      “And with it comes a new name,” he said.

      That ripple of understanding passed between them, as strong as it had from the first. Finally, finally, the knot of tension at the base of his skull unwound, and he started to believe he’d leave the valley and crest the mountain with her by his side after all.

      “So,” he continued. “I’m getting a picture in my head of you living in Dallas. What else should I add to this picture? Will you be living by yourself? Or might I convince you to stay with me?”

      A deep smile spread across her face. “You’re pretty good at convincing me to stay. I’ll give you that. If I stay with you, do I get my own room?”

      “Nope. The baby gets his or her own room, but you have to share with me, whether we have a marriage license or not. See, I don’t need a replacement wife, but I do need a lover. I seem to have an addiction to inventive positions. And locations, apparently, because I’m envisioning a very sturdy table in the kitchen. And maybe a screened-in porch. A large shower is a must, as well. Sound like something you might consider?”

      Say yes. He’d be happy to throw in some begging if it turned the tide.

      She shook her head. “You’re crazy. I like that.”

      Crazy. Yes, he was. But only because he’d fallen in love with a woman who allowed him to be and feel and do whatever he wanted.

      “Please tell me I haven’t totally screwed up things between us. I’m open to discussion on how we’ll raise the baby, and I don’t care where we live. We can stay here in Venice if you want. I love you and want to be with you the rest of my life, wherever you are, whether we have a marriage license or not.”

      Her eyes grew misty. “That was the most romantic nonproposal I’ve ever heard.”

      “Is that a yes?”

      “Not yet. I wasn’t done with my apology. I’m sorry I was so stubborn. Before. I never should have tried to force you to heal my way or discounted the idea of living where you wanted to. I’ve been pretty selfish for a long time, excusing it because I’d lost something important. Important, but not crucial. I can’t sing but I haven’t lost my voice.”

      “Of course you haven’t. You’re my voice. You articulate the things in my soul far better than I could.”

      “Geez.” Her lids flew closed and she swallowed heavily. When she met his gaze once more, the powerful connection swept through him again. “I was already going to say yes. But if you want to say some more romantic things, I’m all ears.”

      His heart took flight. “You were? What swayed you, the sturdy kitchen table or me finally gathering enough wits to tell you I love you?”

      “The fact that you flew to Monte Carlo. The rest was nice to hear, though. I came to Venice to tell you I wasn’t letting you go again, by the way.”

      He couldn’t help but laugh. They’d chased each other around the globe. “I told you, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

      “Then start walking.” She turned and flounced up the stairs, hips swinging saucily. Halfway up, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be naked on the bed, thinking about how much I love you. I’m dying to see what you’re going to do first.”

      Matt was pretty curious too and raced up the stairs to find out what two healed souls could become to each other.

       Epilogue

      Evangeline shoved the Murano glass bowl directly into the center of the art niche outside the baby’s room. Much better. Decorating the home she and Matt had bought—together—down the street from his parents’ turned out to be the most fun she’d ever had. Who knew?

      Fran came out of the nursery. “Carlos tacked up the border. Do you want to check out the placement before I have him glue it down?”

      Matt’s mother had taken on the role of Contractor Supervisor and ruled the workers with an iron fist covered in lace. The two women became friends instantly, and Evangeline fell into the habit of consulting the older woman on just about everything. Fran knew color and style and had fantastic taste.

      Since Evangeline had never created a home from scratch, the partnership worked beautifully—as long as neither of them mentioned the word marriage. She and Fran had politely agreed to disagree about the status of Evangeline’s relationship with Matt.

      “I’m sure the border is fine, but I do want to see it.” Evangeline stepped into the explosion