The Morning After the Night Before: Love & Lust in the city that never sleeps! (25 page)

‘In my message I also said I had something to give you. I had it on me that day. I've kept it with me since we last saw each other.'

He rummaged in the pocket of his long coat and presented her with a small, soft toy.

She stared at it. ‘A platypus?'

‘It was the closest I could find to an otter at Melbourne airport. I've been clutching that since Australia. Had to fight a four-year-old for it.'

She blinked back at him.

‘Turn it over, Izzy.'

She did, and he looked pointedly at the suspiciously pouch-like recess at its fluffy belly.

Something glinted back at her from deep inside.

She lifted her eyes to Harry's, all breath suspended, and half whispered, ‘What are you doing?'

‘Something I should have done back when I first bought it.'

Back…?

‘And when was that?' she asked, carefully.

‘The morning of my father's heart attack.'

Every part of her wanted to weep. For the loss, if it was true. For the cruelty of saying it, if it was not. But she wiggled the ring free of its furry prison and turned it over gently in her fingers, her heart pounding.

White gold. Simple and unpretentious.

The squeeze morphed into an almost unbearable
ache. ‘And you think an expensive parting gift is going to make things right between us?'

Case in point, really. Their whole dysfunctional relationship in a single painful, pricey gesture.

‘It's not a parting gift.' His lips twisted. ‘And it wasn't that expensive.'

She ignored the first part on pure self-defence grounds.

‘Aren't you going to ask me why I bought you a ring, Izzy?'

No. Because her wounded heart was already in fibrillation. How much more could she expect it to take? She shook her head—barely.

‘I wanted something to celebrate our thirtieth date. I wanted something to celebrate the crazy connection we had and the fact we'd spent every night for four weeks together. I got it because as I stood there holding that bloody ring, I could practically feel it on your fingers as they curled in mine and it just felt…so right.'

His eyes moistened a hint. ‘I got it for you, Izzy.'

‘Thirty dates?'

‘That's what I told myself when I went in the store.'

‘And when you came out?'

‘Look at it. It's hardly a friendship ring, is it?'

Staring down at it only highlighted how badly her hands were shaking. She curled them around the ring.

‘I'd planned to propose, Izzy.'

Rip.

There it went. Her heart's last defences. Pain washed along every artery and vein in her body.

‘In case I hadn't already realised how much I'd lost?' she choked. ‘That's why you're telling me now?'

He stepped right up to her. Curled his hands over hers.

‘I'm telling you because I overreacted, Iz. Because I let my screwed-up idea of what love is grow like a tumour, and I put that before everything else. I came home from buying that for you to an urgent call from my sister and spent all afternoon on the phone long distance to an uncommunicative hospital, and the whole time, instead of worrying about my family, all I could feel was this crushing sensation, squeezing in from outside.' He stepped closer. ‘That I'd have to go home. That I'd have to leave you.

‘I thought my life was over in that moment, Iz. And in that same moment I realised that what you and I had together
had become
my life.
Everything I needed. All I wanted. And I immediately started thinking about how I could have both. Desperate, anxious thinking. I'm sure you heard it in my voice on the message.'

Had she? All she'd heard was someone desperate to get off the phone. Or maybe she'd had her own dark filter on.

Her eyes trailed all over his face. Every anxious line, every pinched nerve. And something compelled her to keep this unexpected line of honesty between them open.

‘You can't have both.'

‘I can. I will.'

‘Then what will happen with the company?'

‘I'm going to run it.'

‘A massive commitment.'

‘Fortunately for me I'm not quite as much of a dinosaur as my father,' he said. ‘I have an extremely talented and extremely willing older sister who has been proving herself for twenty years now. Carla was more than happy to take over our operations in Australasia.'

The turn screws holding her lungs in place cranked around a few times more and her breath struggled for passage. ‘And what about you?'

‘I'll handle Europe and North America.'

Every bit of saliva decamped from her mouth. ‘Where will you be based?'

His whole face softened on a smile. ‘Our London offices.'

She took three long, deep breaths. ‘So you're back until…?'

Finishing the sentence herself was just too risky. Her voice was going to crack.

‘Until you tell me to leave.'

Every part of her wanted to dance around the park. Even though she didn't yet have a right to.

‘And this ring is…?'

‘The ring is yours, if you'll take it.'

She clutched the little platypus in one hand and Harry's ring in the other. Then she handed it back to him.

‘I feel like I barely know you again.'

His face fell. ‘You don't want it?'

‘Taking it doesn't seem right. After everything we've been through. Not now.'

Blue eyes bled the loss. ‘Have I wrecked everything, Iz?'

Had he? Technically he hadn't proposed but he'd meant to, before everything went so badly wrong. And would she have said yes? Maybe. Except that everything she'd discovered, everything
she'd seen in Australia, made it clear just how different their worlds were.

‘I'm not interested in your money, Harry.'

Confusion stained his gaze. ‘I know.'

‘I'm actually quite intimidated by it. You said yourself that I might not even fit in your world. What if that's true?'

‘Then we'll create our own world. Our own place, our own rules. Whatever we want it to be.'

‘I'm not really CEO-wife material.' The old doubt demons danced around her heart.

‘Then don't marry Harrison Broadmore. Marry Harry Mitchell.'

He took both her hands in his and Izzy realised how desperately she'd been wanting to touch him. She curled her fingers into his and held on.

‘How about this…?'

His eyes flicked around as he desperately thought something through, and they fell on the platypus-that-should-have-been-an-otter. ‘Let's redo the first thirty dates. Thirty dates based on nothing less than full and total disclosure. And during that time the ring stays in the otter-pus.'

He took the ring and tucked it safely back
into the toy pouch and then curled her hands over it.

‘And thirty dates from now we sit down in our living room, in front of all of London, and I'm going to give you this ring again. Properly, on bended knee and everything, and only
then
will I accept a no from you, Isadora Dean. Because, despite what an abomination I made of this whole thing, I can't breathe when I think about how long and empty my life will be without you in it. Easily as miserable as my parents'.'

He shuffled in closer and framed her face. ‘You were right, Izzy. I do need you, desperately. Who else will give me grief and keep me humble when the rest of the world is sucking up? I don't need or want anyone else by my side, in my bed or in my head. Only you.'

She swallowed past the words that had tumbled and fallen in a heap in her airway.

‘I love you, Isadora Dean. And thirty dates' worth of patience is nothing compared to the lifetime I want to have with you.'

Maybe there was still some life in her poor heart yet. It lurched back to regular rhythm and then fluttered up to a breath-stealing gallop. She met Harry's mouth halfway down to her
and locked her lonely, wasted lips on his, and knew that was where they belonged.

They always had.

He tasted and smelled and felt exactly the same.

Like home.

Like for ever.

She tore her mouth free as his words soaked through her clouded, joyous mind.
‘Our
living room?'

‘You don't imagine I'm going to waste a moment of those thirty dates on public transport, do you? I want you with me, close to me, twenty-four-seven. I want to fall asleep with you wrapped around me and I want to wake up to you still there. I want to eat fish and chips with you on the carpet looking over London, and I want to watch you spending a whole week building up to a big night out.'

The scars on her heart flexed and loosened up.

‘We've not even been on a date yet. I might not be that easy.'

‘You slept with me before our other first date, if I recall. That's how easy you were.'

‘I was impatient. And maybe a little bit drunk.'

‘I pledge to keep you that way always. Move in with me, Iz? Straight away.'

‘I'm supposed to be going to my parents' next week. I can't let them down. They've been so generous. So forgiving.'

‘I'll come with you. I figure I owe them as much of an explanation as you.'

‘And the girls… They both want to kill you.'

‘I'll stand and take my hits like a man. Even from Alex.'

Pfff.
‘Who do you think fronted me the grand to fly to Australia?' she said. ‘Alex considers himself a stakeholder in our relationship. He'll be thrilled you're back.'

Hot lips found hers again.

‘And what happens if I say no in thirty days' time?' she breathed. ‘I won't have a room to go back to.'

‘You're not going to say no. We're meant to be together. But if you don't want the ring, then, I'll move out and you can stay in the Vauxhall apartment until something else comes up. You have my word.'

She snorted against the tears. ‘You have way too much money, Harry Mitchell Broadmore.'

‘And I'll love watching you try not to spend it, Isadora Broadmore.' He presented her with
the otter-pus again. ‘So what do you say? Want to give it a try?'

She took it, found herself utterly unable to let go of it at all, and her pinkie snagged the ring out into the evening light. ‘I don't think an otter-pus should be trusted with something this important,' she murmured, staring at the simple, sparkling beauty of it. Wanting—desperately—to feel it on her finger.

‘I guess a few more weeks in my pocket won't hurt it.'

Izzy shied away from his questing fingers, holding on to the ring. ‘Or…I could wear it. See how I feel about it.'

‘You don't think an engagement ring is going to draw unhelpful attention?'

‘I'll wear it on my right hand—' and only occasionally swap it to her left ‘—no one will notice it amongst my other jewellery.'

Except that she never wore rings. And Poppy and Tori were
totally
going to notice.

‘Here, let me.'

Harry twisted sideways and took her right hand, then slid it on next to the pinkie finger that had just fished it out of the otter-pus's belly.

‘Isadora Dean,' he said, his beautiful blue eyes
locked on hers. ‘Will you think about being my wife, approximately thirty days from now?'

Maybe neither of them was going to say it aloud but there was no question.

Harry was proposing…and Izzy was saying yes.

She smiled. ‘I'll get back to you.'

‘Good enough.'

And, for what followed, Izzy was grateful that this little pocket park was as quiet as it was. And that the shadows were lengthening. Harry kissed her as if they were alone in his massive bed.

‘I should get back and start packing, then,' she gasped, finally lifting her head.

Harry grimaced, pulling her to her feet and smoothing down her mismatched outfit. ‘They're not going to be happy I'm stealing you away,' he said.

‘Poppy and Tori are going to be bridesmaids. All will be forgiven.'

The one thing she could count on was her friends backing her choices one hundred per cent. No matter what.

‘Especially when I fly them out to Australia for our second ceremony.'

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘We're having two weddings?'

‘A modest Izzy-appropriate one here, and a lavish heir-appropriate one back home. You can meet my sisters.'

‘I'd really like that,' she murmured, curling the fingers of her right hand through his. His eyes fell to where they joined and lingered.

‘Does it feel like you imagined?'

‘Just like it. A perfect fit.'

That ring belonged on her finger, and her fingers belonged threaded through his.

They strolled back towards the fire station, taking their time, remembering how it felt to brush against each other. How the sparks still flew whenever they touched. How much they'd missed it.

‘One last thing, Harry.' Izzy smiled up at him.

‘What, beautiful?'

‘I may be bringing a few things with me,' she mused. ‘How big is your boxroom?'

* * * * *

If you loved this book,
make sure you catch the rest
of the incredible
THE FLAT IN NOTTING HILL
miniseries!

THE MORNING AFTER
THE NIGHT BEFORE
by Nikki Logan

SLEEPING WITH THE SOLDIER
by Charlotte Phillips,

YOUR BED OR MINE?
by Joss Wood

ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS
by Louisa George

ISBN-13: 9781460380581

The Morning After the Night Before

Copyright © 2015 by Nikki Logan

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Nikki Logan for her contribution to The Flat in Notting Hill series.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.