would cover the current hit songs. When he and Anne married, he’d suggest “That’s Amore” or perhaps a more traditional “Someone to Watch over Me” as their first dance. He slipped into the crowd to avoid Cliff’s seeing him.
Anne didn’t seem to be anywhere in the ballroom, so he went down the hall to the massive kitchen.
Major O’Hara greeted him with a wink and a smile. “Anne was just in here looking for you. I sent her out toward the observation deck a few minutes ago.”
“Cheers!” George spun and headed back in the direction he’d come. She’d probably gone out the door on this side of the building. He slipped through the door and looked for the woman who stood head and shoulders above the rest…almost literally. He’d never imagined falling in love with a woman who, when she wore heels, stood the same height as he. Just one of her many beauties.
Finally, he found her on the observation terrace in the far corner near the emergency exit. Perfect. Hidden from the view of those inside, and far from the best views of downtown.
“Anne?”
She didn’t turn.
He stopped beside her, his shoulder touching hers. “I hoped I would find you out here.”
Strange distance filled her gaze when she finally looked at him. She must be exhausted. She hadn’t been sleeping at all.
“I know you’ll be glad when this is all over.”
She shook her head. “You have no idea.”
He leaned against the safety wall, facing her. “You need a long holiday.”
“I can’t. I have a business to run and lots of events already booked.”
She wasn’t making this easy.
Tears filled her eyes.
He smiled and reached for the ring box. Clasping her hand, he dropped to one knee with a flourish, holding the ring box toward her. “Anne Hawthorne, will you marry this man who not only admires and respects you but is madly in love with you?”
The darkness made her expression hard to read. She pulled her hand away and took the ring box. She studied the jewel for a moment, then closed the box and handed it back to him. “No.”
He rose. “No?”
She gestured for him to take the box. When he didn’t reach for it, she grabbed his hand and pressed it into his palm. “No.”
He blocked her retreat, heated embarrassment replacing his earlier thrill. “May I have the honor of an explanation?”
She crossed her arms. Tears glittered in twin trails down her cheeks. “I was a fool to believe…to believe you would ever be honest with me.”
“To what are you referring, madam? Please make sense!” What had changed from their stolen kiss after the wedding ceremony to now?
She pointed to the ring box. “Proposing as if you meant it. Saying you’re madly in love with me to manipulate me into marrying you.”
Cold anger flooded him. “Manipulate…? Anne, when have I ever tried to manipulate you? I’ve done everything I can to prove my love to you.”
She swiped at the moisture on her face. “I have to be the biggest idiot in the world. At least Cliff’s actions I can blame on immaturity and bad counsel. But you? All this time you talked about honesty, about how important it is to found a relationship on trust. And all along, you were just reeling me in like the catch of the day.”
“I have no idea to what you are referring.” Instinctively, he handed Anne his handkerchief.
She pushed it away. “No? Let me refresh your memory. You propose, and we both get what we want: I get a business partner, and you get to stay in the country.”
His heart sank. His phone call with Henry. She’d only heard one side. But she should have trusted him rather than jumping to erroneous conclusions. “Anne, you didn’t hear the whole conversation.”
“No. But I heard enough. This is why you’ve been avoiding answering me about the partnership—why you’ve kept me at arm’s length.” Her voice caught, and her face contorted as she tried to control her emotions. She shoved past him but stopped after a few feet. “I thought you really loved me. I guess you’re as good of an actor as your employer. I would have been better off if you had stayed the groom!” She composed herself as she turned to reenter the ballroom.
He should go after her. Explain. Make her understand.
But how could she accuse him of trying to manipulate her? He genuinely loved her. He would never intentionally hurt her.
She was too angry right now to listen to reason…and he was too hurt and angry to try to reason with her. He just needed to give her a couple of days to cool off.
Monday morning, George stopped in front of Anne’s office, surprised to see the CLOSED sign hanging in the window. Finally, she’d decided to take a day off.
He dialed her cell phone number as he walked back toward his car. No answer. Her cheerful answering machine greeting brought him the first smile in days. “Hello, Anne. I know you may still be angry, but I would like a chance to explain. Remember what you said about misunderstandings and communication issues. That’s all this is. Please call me so we can talk. I love you.”
When he hadn’t heard from her—or anyone else in her family— by Thursday, he decided to take matters under his own control again. Forbes’s secretary ushered him into the large office.
The dark look on the lawyer’s face told George everything he needed to know. “She told you her side of the story?”
“Her side? She told me what happened, yes. And to think I trusted you not to hurt her.”
“It’s all a horrible misunderstanding.” George paced the width of the room. “She overheard a conversation I had with my brother. He and I were joking around. I would never consider marrying Anne for a business partnership or a green card.”
Forbes nodded, his blue-gray eyes piercing. “Really?”
“Really!” He threw his hands up. “What do I have to do to convince you people?”
“Go home.” The words were growled more than said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You want to prove to Anne you don’t want to marry her just for a green card? Go back to England. Prove you love her and not just the idea of staying in the States.”
He sank into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. “Go home? I don’t have a home to go to.” If Henry’s apartment hadn’t sublet yet…
Forbes was right. He had to regroup, show Anne it was her, not this place, not her business, that he loved. “All right. I’ll go back to England.”
Forbes’s expression neutralized. “I’ll help you take care of things on this end—liquidating your assets, transferring accounts.”
“Thanks.” George stood and offered his hand. “Thanks for everything. Tell Anne…”
Forbes nodded. “I’ll tell her.”
On his way out, his phone beeped. “George Laurence here.”
“Hi, George,” Courtney’s voice chimed through the line.
“Hello, Miss—Mrs. Ballantine. How may I be of assistance?”
“George, Cliff is going to have to cut his trip short. They need him on the movie set earlier than they thought. He wants you to meet me in Paris this weekend.
He needed something to pay the bills while he tried to convince Anne. While this wouldn’t be as grand a gesture as resigning and returning to England to live in squalor while waiting, it would serve his purpose.
“Very good, ma’am. I’ll make flight arrangements this afternoon.”
