“I want you to know how much I appreciate you,” Tony insisted. As he spoke, he reached across the table and offered his hand. Diana slid hers out from her lap and took hold. His hand, warm and solid, closed over hers. Diana's heart swelled despite her best intentions to keep it under control.

  "I’ve missed this," Tony said quietly.

  "What?" Diana wondered aloud, equally quiet and irresistibly curious. "What did you miss?" She had been right here all along, hadn't she?

  "The feel of you." His index finger stroked the creases in her palm, eliciting a delightful sensation that felt indecent to be experiencing in public. Don't be ridiculous, she chided herself, confused, and annoyed at her own confusion. You're just holding hands. And, okay, you haven't got laid in a while—but you've lived through many a longer dry spell than this.

  She simply hadn't been forced to live through one with Tony Harrington in such close proximity.

  "What do you mean, 'the feel of me'?" She couldn't help asking the question, couldn't seem to avoid meeting his eyes and wholeheartedly embracing the heat in his look.

  "Just... having you in my arms the other day." It wasn't a complete explanation; hell, it wasn't even a complete sentence. But Diana was helpless to interrupt him to point this out. "It's been on my mind. And... it's all I care to remember."

  Diana flushed. She was torn between wanting to pull her hand back and entertaining the impulse to shove the table out of the way to be nearer to him. Why, oh why, did he do this to her? "You have the luxury of being able to focus on that, if that’s what you want. I'm the one who made herself out to be your bumbling bimbo bride."

  "You aren't my bumbling anything," Tony said, then quieted as their waitress arrived with water and fresh-baked bread. The smell was mouth-watering; for Diana, not in a good way. Tony seemed to notice her growing green around the gills and kindly requested the waitress remove the complimentary basket.

  "You should have taken a roll," Diana murmured. "You give up so much for me."

  "You're the one who sacrifices," Tony countered. "That's why I wanted to take you out today. The real you."

  What did it matter if she was the 'real' Diana? She wanted to ask him but couldn't bring herself to do so. It felt like fishing, somehow... but fishing for what? For the words she longed to hear from him? For some reassurance that she wasn't alone in battling back these feelings that threatened their marriage of convenience?

  Diana withdrew her hand from his and turned her gaze out the window. "That's some view," she remarked. Maybe a clumsy attempt at a distraction, but she meant it. The English coast had its own majestic beauty, unrivaled by anywhere else on earth. Sure, Fiji had a special place in her heart now, but this... this was home.

  " 'When I think of what life is, and how seldom love is answered by love...' " Tony began as if speaking to himself.

  " '...it is one of the moments for which the world was made,’" Diana concluded, adding an astonished laugh. The world outside their window fell away; suddenly, he had her full attention. "That's a line from A Room with a View."

  "My favorite book," Tony said reverently. The way he looked at her, she wasn't so certain that she wasn't the object he had suddenly found to be revered. "And you? What did you think of it, the first time you read it?"

  "I've read it more than once," Diana agreed. He seemed to take for granted that she would have reread it herself, and she found this hopelessly endearing. "For me, it's always been a reminder of all the choices and roads in life. Of never knowing which might be the right and which might be the wrong way to go. Either choice could be life-changing, but..." She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear as she thought through her words. "...I guess I've always been more wary of how the wrong choice could completely alter my course.” She tilted her head, curious to know his answer. “Is it the same for you?"

  Tony’s eyes were fixed on her, and somehow, the table between them seemed a vaster distance than she remembered. He was lost in his own thoughts, trying to articulate an answer. She leaned in and found his hand on the table again, touched it tentatively, running her finger along the ridge of his knuckles, feeling his answering shudder, and a deep, secret part of her sympathized. God, how she wanted more of this. Of just the two of them. She wanted every beach, and every room with a view, and she wanted them with him. She would even take the occasional ribbon-cutting ceremony if it made Tony hers.

  But would that mean staying in Tony's shadow? Was that what it meant to try and partner herself with a man like him? Was she forever to be his attachment, his adornment, his accessory?

  She couldn't let herself follow the same path her mother had taken. She couldn't give up her dreams, and her self, for the promise of a love that was surely only fleeting. Hadn't she already seen it demonstrated in her own life, by observing the lives of her parents, and wasn't once enough? She didn't think she could survive such heartbreak herself; she had felt her mother's acutely enough.

  "I'd like to do more of this. With you." Tony's eyes were such a compelling blue, Diana felt as if she could fall into them; there was probably a ribbon-cutting joke to be made, but it was still too soon, damn it. "I'd like to have meals together."

  "I'd like that, too," she blurted. So much for reason! She had no hope of standing strong when her mouth seemed hell-bent on stating what she truly felt. "But won't that interfere with your work?"

  "I'll just let the office know, starting today, that I intend to be home in time for dinner."

  "How domestic-sounding," Diana replied with a grin. "Should I take to wearing an apron and nothing else?"

  "I hardly expect you to cook for us. Not when I have such an amazing chef on staff already." But his hand tightened on hers, a small, telling pulse. Her comment had aroused him as much as it had her; she could see it in his eyes.

  "A girl could get used to this," she warned him.

  "My wife should get used to this," he informed her.

  He held her hand all through lunch and only let go once he had helped her into the car in the parking lot. They drove home together. Diana watched the English countryside roll past, but she was all too aware of the Englishman sitting beside her in the driver's seat.

  That's the problem, she thought. I am already getting used to this.

  9

  Tony thought to his satisfaction that if Diana had thought their lunch date was a surprise, just wait until she saw what he had done to the ballroom.

  "A little to the left with that torch, actually," he called to one of his staff. He straightened from his examination of the mock bar top and adjusted the sleeves of his dinner jacket. When he allowed his inspection to extend beyond his own appearance, he was incredibly satisfied with what he saw.

  It was their one-month anniversary since the wedding, and he (and his staff) had pulled out all the stops to surprise Diana. Starlight Castle’s ballroom had been successfully transformed into a dazzling replica of the restaurant in Fiji where Tony had first met Diana: the tables were all laid out perfectly, the torches lit, the sounds of waves and tropical birds piped in through the hidden speakers he'd had installed. Pink hibiscus blooms filled the room from corner to corner, splashing exotic color and evocative fragrance everywhere. Tony hadn't been able to import the crystalline waters that surrounded the beach, nor sand from the beach itself, but he figured the flowers would be an acceptable consolation prize.

  "Does it meet with your approval?" one of the senior members of the castle staff, Bruno, asked him.

  Tony nodded. "Thanks for all the research you put into this, Bruno. Diana’s going to love it."

  "We depend on your eye, sir, to tell us if we've succeeded,” Bruno replied. “As we’ll depend on Mrs. Harrington’s smile.”

  "Feels like I never left Fiji." Tony awarded him a thumbs-up. He fully intended to reward all the staff with an unexpected bonus for their efforts today, but that would have to wait until later... now, it was showtime.

  The arrangements had been completed barely in time. A younger member of the staff ran in, panting, and informed them of Diana’s return. She had been out all afternoon with Constance. Now it was his turn to reclaim his bride.

  Tony clapped his hands together gleefully. “Places, everyone!” His voice boomed across the vast room that now housed a little piece of Fiji. “This is not a drill!” he emphasized.

  Bruno bowed (he was old-fashioned that way, with the side benefit that his manners always endeared him to Tony’s mother) and quickly assumed his place as the evening’s “waiter.” Tony had enlisted more than half his staff to help with the decorations and cooking; the remainder he had employed as actors. The other “diners” paired up and took their seats, chatting happily, as the young man who had sounded the alarm left to guide Diana to the ballroom. He was back soon after, followed closely by Diana—clearly, Tony’s wife had seen fit to let herself in and come looking for him. She stopped, smiling expansively when she saw him, then froze in disbelief as her eyes raked over the rest of the room.

  “In a hurry to see me?” Tony smiled and held his arms out in mock disbelief, though really, he was holding them out in presentation. “Where’s the fire?”

  “The fire... it’s in the... Tiki torches?” Diana gasped, then covered her mouth. She moved past him, eyes as round as the dinner plates he had personally set at their table. Several of the diners broke character to watch her, all grinning, as she circled the room and let her fingers kiss every petal, every detail.

  “A glass of chilled nonalcoholic wine, madam?” Bruno reappeared with a towel draped over his arm and offered her a look at the label. It was the same wine that Tony and Diana had frequently enjoyed together in their evenings on the island, down to the year. “Or perhaps a Mai Tai?” Bruno was far too English to suspend disbelief that this was Fiji, but Tony saw by Diana’s answering smile—and her immediate nod of assent—that she was game for all of this.

  “Here. Let me take your coat.” Tony moved in behind her and shifted the royal purple pea coat from her shoulders. The color was absolutely stunning on her, but it reminded him too much of his mother, who had purchased it. And besides... “A little warm for Fiji, don’t you think?”

  “Is this where you’ve been all day?” Diana asked with a pointed eyebrow. “Not answering my calls?”

  “Yes,” he agreed readily as they both sat down. “I’ve been away in Fiji waiting for my wife.”

  “Are we roleplaying?” she wondered as she took up her glass of wine.

  Tony played up his expression of confusion as he likewise raised his glass. “Roleplaying? You are my wife, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not so certain, sometimes.” He saw the hint of a playful smile on her face, as if she was willing to continue on with the joke—but past that, Tony could see something else. His mother might have transformed Diana into someone gorgeous and remote, the consummate society wife that everyone expected her to be, but she was still in there, biding her time and hesitating to fight her way out again. Did she really think he had orchestrated this evening only to continue the façade they had both been keeping up?

  Then again... did he know how to break the ice that had sprung up like a pressure ridge between them? Maybe all the flowers to be found in Fiji weren’t entirely up to the task.

  Constance Harrington had certainly done a number on them both. But maybe it was unfair to lay so much blame at the Gucci-shod feet of his mother.

  “I married you, didn’t I?” Tony offered belatedly. Despite the money he had sunk into the surprise, this evening wasn’t off to a stellar start. Well, he thought with an internal sigh, money couldn’t buy you everything, and it certainly hadn’t bought him any additional affection from Diana. Not that he wanted love. No way. He just wanted to thaw the chill between them. They had so much in common, despite Diana’s early arguments to the contrary—but how to show her that?

  “Right. You did marry me.” Diana swirled her glass and stared at the miniature whirlpool that formed. “And now that you mention it, we made it official about a month ago, didn’t we?”

  “To the day.” Finally sensing his opening, Tony raised his glass and smiled dotingly at her. “Happy anniversary, love.”

  No harm in the nickname, right? It didn’t have to mean anything more than it had when they’d first crossed paths.

  Diana gazed at him in astonishment, then hastened to lift her glass as well. “Tony, I had no idea!” she admitted as they toasted. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary!”

  Tony was pleased at her reaction. “I forgive you,” he promised with utmost benevolence. “That is, I do—if you’ll stay a while and dance with me. I heard your lessons have been progressing well.”

  “Not well enough to save my ass from hitting the ground in front of all those reporters,” she reminded him.

  “You lie,” Tony interrupted as their Kokoda arrived with the appropriate amount of ceremony. “You forget that I saved you before you were allowed to hit the ground.”

  “Are we joking about this now?” Diana asked drily, although she couldn’t quite conceal the half-hopeful expression evident in her glimmering green eyes.

  “It was very funny,” Tony said. “You must concede that.”

  “I don’t know how much I like half the globe being in on the punch line,” Diana conceded instead. They shared a companionable chuckle as they started in on their dinner.

  The conversation was warm after that, even achingly casual. Tony hadn’t known that small talk could be so wonderful, but as his playful teasing wore her defenses down, he saw Diana bloom like one of the tropical flowers Gavin’s wife nurtured in her solarium.

  A few more glasses of non-alcoholic wine (which to his surprise tasted as good if not better than the real thing), and they were up and dancing. Tony swept her beneath his arm, revolving them around and around as if they were the centerpiece on their own private music box. The other “dinner guests” soon joined in, and it wasn’t long before all were laughing merrily and enjoying themselves. And damn it, they deserved it after all the hard work they had put in that week. Every single one of them. Tony tried not to feel as if he especially deserved this moment, with his wife held captive in his arms, but he certainly could admit his bias.

  “Come on.” He stopped their gyrations and grasped her hand. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

  “Something else?” Diana laughed as he towed her along after him. God, he loved her when she was so unfettered; Tony thought he could kill for that laugh. “What else could there possibly be?”

  “Only this.”

  He had set up a projector in the lounge upstairs, in one of the more private rooms sequestered near his own bedroom. He invited Diana to enter ahead of him and take in the lay of the room as he started up the movie.

  “Oh, this is lovely, Tony!” She collapsed onto the couch with an immense sigh. Tony, loosening his collar to better relax himself, quickly followed suit.

  “You’ve been scurrying all over England these past weeks, I figured you could use a break. Popcorn?”

  “No, thank you. What are we watching?” Diana laughed and settled herself in closer beside him... but not too close. When Tony rearranged himself so that his arm was draped behind her, he made sure to avoid making direct contact with her shoulders. He had no expectations for this evening, he reminded himself. He clicked the lights off with the remote as the movie started up.

  “Well... after our discussion the other day, I’ve been dying to watch A Room With a View,” he admitted. “I hope that isn’t terribly embarrassing?”

  “Oh, Tony, I love this film.” Diana leaned forward eagerly as the first scene unfolded before them. “I love it almost more than the book. I hope that isn’t terribly embarrassing.”

  “Never.” Though his favorite film was playing out before them, Tony found he couldn’t look away from the graceful curve of her neck, the way her hands laced and unlaced, and the way she grabbed his knee as soon as Lucy appeared onscreen for the first time.

  No expectations. Wherever the evening led—and with Fiji still down the hall—he had found his own version of paradise here beside her.

  When the onscreen kiss came, Diana took the hint: she kissed first.

  She had been waiting all evening with bated breath for her husband to pull the trigger—ah, hell, but who was she kidding? She had been waiting far, far longer than that. She had ached for him for weeks, and if he wasn't going to seize this perfect moment, then it seemed to be up to her.

  Besides, she could always blame the impulse on pregnancy hormones.

  Her lips caught his, and when Tony didn't draw back, she lifted her hands to cup his face. Oh God, she could taste him—just like she remembered, wet and warm, yet even so, when he opened his mouth to reciprocate, to attack and claim her hungrily, she wasn't prepared. She had intended a chaste gesture; then, rethinking it the moment their lips touched, their irrepressible connection sparked anew, she leaned in to let him know it was no accident.

  But now that she had brought her own walls down, Tony seemed intent on razing every last obstacle between them to the ground, leaving only the two of them. The soft murmur of the film still playing in the background seemed ever more distant as Tony yanked a couch cushion out of the way. He was practically on top of her by the time Diana thought to fall back beneath him. Now he was straddling her pinned legs, the muscles of his arms bunched and casting powerful shadows as he gazed down at her in the flickering darkness.

  Diana nodded. She couldn't see his eyes to know if he was searching hers for consent, but God, she could feel his intention in her core. His thumbs stroked the frantic pulse harbored in her wrists as he lowered himself to her. He moved like liquid, like the roll of a wave—first his mouth, then his hips, moved against her body, leaving her breathing hard, ecstatic, beneath him. Her right leg inched to the side, and Tony filled the space. With a wild gasp, Diana finally, at last, gave herself over totally and hiked the leg around his waist.