Jessica Steele - The Feisty Fiancée

He did not laugh. If anything, he seemed nervous suddenly, and that surprised her. But after a moment or two he manfully admitted, `I took a long time getting there, a long time in accepting the feelings, thoughts, joy, that invaded my life on the day I met you.' He smiled and, leaning forward, he tenderly kissed her cheek. `Oh, yes, dear Yancie,' he said softly as he pulled back and looked into her eyes. `Oh, yes, I meant it.'

Yancie looked at him, tears welling up inside. He meant it! He meant it. Thomson had meant it when he had asked her to marry him. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. Wanted to hold her arms tight about him. But-she was nervous still. Nervous, and very unsure. 'Th-this has never happened to…' she broke off; she was saying too much! `I think I'm in a bit of a panic,' she confessed, loved it when he smiled and gently caught a hold of her restless hands. His touch warmed her through and through and gave her the confidence she needed to enquire, albeit huskily, `You spoke of feelings and things, on the day we met.'

'That day you crashed into my life,' he murmured, and Yancie could read nothing but encouragement in his eyes as he recollected the event.

'Leaving aside I didn't quite crash into you, though I concede it was a close thing,' she said, managing in her nervousness to find a smile, `you weren't so benign that day.'

'Why would I be?' he countered. `There was I in my work-filled world, a man who didn't have time for nonsense, and there you were, in a place where you shouldn't be-naturally having very nearly caused an accident-and giving me a load of lip.'

'You could have dismissed me for that,' Yancie murmured.

'Which was the puzzling thing,' he said.

'Puzzling?'

'It was to me. I just couldn't think why I hadn't issued instructions for your department head to get rid of you.'

'You sent for me instead.'

'Fully intending to dismiss you myself,' he smiled.

Her heart was racing. Surely there was a tender look in his eyes for her! `But you didn't dismiss me,' she reminded him, a little breathlessly.

'Oh, my dear, dear Yancie, how could I? You'd entered my life, crashed into it, and brightened up my dull world.'

She swallowed. `I did?' she questioned chokily-his dear, dear Yancie? She started trembling anew.

'You did,' he replied. `While I'm still wondering what on earth I am doing not only using my valuable time personally interviewing you-and prolonging that interview-I find that you're making me inwardly smile so much, my intention to dismiss you never got said…' Thomson broke off, paused, and then distinctly said, `I realise now that you had started to get to me even then.'

'Oh,' she mumbled, wanting more, needing more, much, much more. `What are you saying, Thomson?' She just couldn't hold back from asking. And, to her delight, discovered that he was in no mind to hold back. Not now.

For, fixing her with that steady gaze, perhaps reading in her beautiful blue eyes her nervousness, her need to know, he said, I'm saying, sweet, dear, often aggravating Yancie, that when I was a busy, work-oriented man with no time for nonsense I got you as a driver, and my world as I knew it started to fall apart.'

Yancie stared at him, her eyes huge. `What did I do?' she asked-and heard a whole list of what she had done.

Though first Thomson leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss to her mouth, and seemed reluctant to pull back. But, having done so, he began, with a smile, `You turned up late, took me on short cuts that turned out to be the long way round-not to mention running out of petrol while you were about it. You made me laugh-in spite of me telling myself that I didn't find it in the least amusing-you made me laugh. You beat me up. Gave my hotel room away and expected me to sleep in a chair. Got a fit of the giggles when…' he broke off, then added, `And life is so unutterably dull without you.'

Yancie swallowed hard. `I'm a terrible person,' she whispered shakenly.

Thomson gripped both her hands tightly in his, and, looking deep into her eyes, said, `So, is it any wonder that I've-fallen in love with you?'

Her mouth fell open from the shock of hearing him say what she so wanted to hear. `Oh, Thomson!' she gasped tremulously.

'It's all right, isn't it?' he asked quickly. `Hell, I'm so confident in the work I do-but this. I feel as shaky as some schoolkid.'

'Yes, it's all right,' she told him quickly. `It's fine. I want you to love me.'

'You do?'

He still seemed tense, and hurriedly again Yancie replied, `It's what I want more than anything.'

His eyes searched her face. `You've lied to me before-you're not lying now?"

'Oh, Thomson, I'll never lie to you again!' she cried, feeling slightly astounded that he should need her reassurance.

'Then tell me truthfully-what are you feeling for me?' he promptly wanted to know.

And, when Yancie had always been a fairly confident person, suddenly, and quite ridiculously, she felt, experienced an overwhelming shyness to tell him of her love. `I…' she tried, but didn't make it. She tried another tack. `When you were in hospital and were so ill, I knew that if you died I wanted to die too.'

'Oh, my darling,' he said hoarsely, and, as if he couldn't sit merely holding her hands any longer, he moved to the sofa to be closer to her, thrilling her by taking her into his arms. `Thank God you escaped with so few injuries.'

'You asked about me?"

'Repeatedly when you didn't come to see me again.'

'After you'd asked me to…' shyness gripped her again.

'After I'd asked you to marry me,' he finished for her.

'I came the very next day-only I bumped into your mother guarding the door.'

He shook his head, hardly crediting what she was telling him. 'I'd no idea that my mother had interfered. That you'd tried to visit me,' he owned. `I found out from Greville that you were getting on so well they'd allowed you to go home. That you went home without bothering to stop by my hospital room to visit me again clearly meant, I thought, that my proposal meant nothing to you.'

'No!' she protested, and they just seemed to kiss quite naturally.

'Wonderful medicine,' Thomson breathed.

'You never thought to try and get in touch with me?' Yancie asked, not caring about anything any more. She was here with Thomson, the man she loved, the man who, incredibly, loved her.

'Would you, sweetheart? You hadn't come to see me again. Two days I waited, watching the door, my heart leaping every time it opened, hoping it would be you. I thought, when you didn't come, that I had your answer. After a few days of waiting I couldn't take any more-I switched hospitals.'

Her anguish for him sent her shyness flying. `Oh, Thomson, I do so love you!' she cried and as joy broke in him so Thomson gathered her close up to him once more. Held her close, and kissed her, held her, pulled back so he could read the truth in her face, in her eyes, and he kissed her again.

'When did you know?' he asked, holding her still, but seeming to want to know everything about her.

'I suspected it that night I was late picking you up, the night we ran out of petrol,' she began, feeling then she could tell him anything, so confessed, 'I'd been delivering a parcel to the mother of one of the mechanics. She lives in Derby.'

'Not too far away,' Thomson teased; oh, she did love him so. `Even if you did get me all knotted up inside that you were late and might have had an accident.'

'You-were worried?' she asked, staggered.

'Going silently demented,' he owned. `Later I had a chance to hold you safe in my arms. I knew you were getting to me in a big way when I felt I wanted to keep on holding you safe.'

'Back then!' she exclaimed.

'Before then, if I'm honest,' he answered.