Sandra Brown: Ricochet

“I do love you.” She said it like a holy vow, a pledge.

Matching her solemnity, he said, “Then I fail to see the problem.”

“No children, for one.”

He whisked his thumb across her delicate cheekbones. “Tubal ligations can be reversed.”

“Not always successfully.”

“If not successfully, we’ll adopt kids. Or do without kids.”

“But you wouldn’t want to.”

“What I wouldn’t want is to do without you.” He laid his hand against her cheek. “You’re the one thing I must have in my life.”

“I have nothing to contribute to a partnership, especially not to one as important as a marriage.”

She had taken nothing from Cato Laird’s house, not even her personal belongings, and had actually become angry when his attorney called to give her the bad news that there was no mention of her in Cato’s will.

“As if I ever wanted to touch anything that he had owned,” she’d said as she hung up on the attorney.

Duncan would never have influenced that decision, but he was glad of it. He wouldn’t have wanted her to keep anything that had come from Cato Laird.

“I’ve been living on what little I’d saved before my marriage to Cato,” she said now, “but that will soon run out and I’ll have to find some kind of work.”

“If you could wake up tomorrow and be doing the thing you’ve always wanted to do, what would it be?”

She stared into near space for a moment. “Remember I told you that before I moved to Savannah, I was taking classes in film?”

“Movies are a passion. You practically quoted that sappy chick flick to me.”

She frowned at his terminology, but continued her thought. “Not too far from your house, there’s an old movie theater.”

“Across from Forsyth Park? It’s been there since the thirties. Hasn’t been in operation for years.”

“I was thinking it could be restored,” she said hesitantly. “Very nicely. Make it a theater for classic movies only. Giant, Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago. Big, epic movies like that. Or film noir. Tracy and Hepburn. There’s an endless list of film festivals. It could host premieres. There could be a wine bar off the lobby, not just your ordinary concessions. It could also be rented out for special events or programs, charity fund-raisers, corporate parties, conventions. Think of the convention business it could draw.

“Remember when we were in Beaufort talking about all the movies that are filmed around here? Well, maybe if a film crew was working nearby, the director, or a couple of the actors, would come and lecture, especially if it was a fund-raising benefit. Can you imagine if an Ang Lee or Lasse Hallström…” Noticing his smile, she stopped. “What?”

“You’re right. You’ve got nothing to contribute.”

She recognized it for teasing. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“Only thing, am I gonna have to wear a tux to all those ‘events’?”

She laughed softly, but her smile faltered. “It’s just an idea. It would take a lot of money to do it the way I envision.”

“I’m not entirely without connections and resources. We’ll find investors, we’ll get the money.” He tugged a strand of her hair, which was back to its natural color and had grown out to chin length. “Any more objections to my proposal of marriage?”

“Your friends and family.”

“You don’t like them?”

“ Duncan, be serious.”

“Okay. Sorry. What about my friends and family?”

“How would they feel about your being permanently linked to me?”

“Well, you’ve inspired DeeDee to stop perming her hair and start plucking her eyebrows. Those are damn strong endorsements. My male coworkers grumble behind my back about my undeserved good fortune.”

“To be with a topless waitress.”

“To be loved by the woman who was brave enough to confront Savich alone. Believe me, none would breathe a slight against you around me. But they for sure as hell would say nothing improper about you within DeeDee’s hearing. And anybody who would isn’t my friend, so his opinion doesn’t matter to me.”

“But your parents’ opinion does. You love them. They love you.” She turned her head away from him. “I would be their worst nightmare.”

“You’re right.” He sighed. “Mom’s in a tizzy. I don’t remember her ever being this upset with me.” He placed his finger beneath her chin and turned her face toward him. “I called today and told them we’d be there for dinner tomorrow. Mom was furious because I hadn’t given her enough advance notice. She had wanted to paint the dining room before I brought you home for the first time.”

“Home?” Her eyes reflected a childlike hopefulness that pierced his heart with love. All his life, he’d taken for granted the people who had cared about him, loved him without qualification. She’d never had that kind of security. He would love her enough to make up for that deficiency. And more.

“They don’t condemn me for what I did?”

“They’re in the forgiving business,” he said with a smile. Then, turning serious, he stroked her cheek. “But what is there to forgive, Elise? What was your big sin? Savich is evil. Cato Laird was evil. Not you.”

By the time he finished speaking, tears were shimmering in her eyes. She pulled him to her, rubbing her lips against his, whispering, “I love you, Duncan. Love you with all my heart and soul. Love you. Love you.”

He gathered her beneath him and pressed into her, his smile against her lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”