Special Delivery (The Great Outdoors Book 4) Page 11

  She placed the flowers on the corner of Shania’s desk and left, shooting over her shoulder, “There’s a card, sad sack.”

  Native New Yorkers tended to be blunt.

  Walking to the gorgeous explosion of color, she inhaled the delicate fragrance as she removed the linen envelope with shaking hands.

  The first handwritten line brought tears to her eyes.

  Shania, I won’t give up on you.

  I handled everything wrong. I see that now. Hiding who I was for so long and then springing it all on you the way I did must have frightened you. I’m sorry for hurting you, for scaring you.

  I’ve searched for you all my life. I know that. I believe it. It’s not a fairytale to me…it’s a legacy.

  She looked away from the note to catch her breath. Her entire body freaked out and the need for him hit her like a tidal wave. Inhaling carefully, she blinked away the tears.

  You’re the woman I’m in love with. A woman who dances when you paint, who always has charcoal smudge on her skin, who cares for her sick mother, who waited for the right man in a world that never waits for anything.

  You’re the woman who’s in love with me. I know you are, Shania. I know you’re afraid and that I’m the cause. I’m sorry the simple life you thought I lived isn’t the reality.

  It can still be beautiful. It can be filled with love.

  We can have our happily ever after. I’ll fight for us…I need you fight for us, too. Accept the challenge. Call me in ten minutes. Don’t overthink it, just call me.

  Love,

  Spencer

  Holding herself up on the edge of her desk, she struggled to catch her breath as tears streamed over her cheeks.

  Very soon, she’d lose her mother. Arabella was her only family and she was slipping away a little more every day.

  She was desperately lonely without Spencer and utterly lost without her art as an outlet.

  Pulling herself together, she washed her face and picked up the letter again. Standing in the sunshine of the early afternoon, her reflection superimposed on the view of the city, she read it again.

  It made her feel better that she wore a dress her mother made for her while she was in college. True to both of their tastes, it was a classic look with princess sleeves and an empire waist in pale green.

  The weather was too chilly for such an outfit but she didn’t care. It was created with love.

  She’d paired it with her favorite Betty Grable heel. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun. She wore a bit of light gloss but she’d been doing too much crying to apply other makeup.

  Spencer’s letter pressed against her heart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  There was one truth she must accept: she needed him.

  The basic functions of her life were in shambles and her mother saw through her attempts to play it off.

  When she opened her eyes, Spencer’s reflection stood behind hers. She stared at it in confusion. His black hair was brushed away from his face but still shaggy. He wore a suit and a pale green tie that matched her dress.

  “I told you not to overthink it, Shania.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shania turned to face him and absorbed her first true glimpse of Spencer Bishop III in all his glory.

  Patti stood on the other side of the door with her mouth hanging open. “Girl, Spencer Bishop is standing in your office.”

  When Shania was incapable of forming a response, Patti slowly closed the door. She mumbled, “I thought he’d be taller but he’s damn pretty.”

  One side of Spencer’s mouth curved in a self-mocking smile. “I hear that a lot.”

  They stared at one another across the space of her office for almost a minute. She didn’t know what to say, how to explain why she’d left him, why she’d been afraid.

  He opened his arms to her and suddenly, the reasons didn’t matter. She walked to him and he held her close, smoothing his hand over her back.

  Inhaling deeply, she took the scent of him into her lungs and felt her system settle for the first time in days.

  He made her whole.

  At her ear, he whispered, “There you are. Right where you belong. I’ve missed you desperately, Shania.”

  Releasing a gasping sob, she hugged him hard and he tightened his arms around her. “It’s alright.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No. I’m the one who messed up.” Planting a kiss against her temple, he added, “This is all that matters.”

  They stood like that for a long time before she leaned back to gaze into his eyes. “I love you. I-I’m afraid. That’s why I ran. It was…a lot. I felt like an imposter.”

  His warm palm slid along her jaw. “Never. You’re the truest thing in my life. More real than anything or anyone else.”

  The kiss he gave her filled her mind, heart, and body with relief unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  When he broke it, he rested his forehead against hers. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t breathe.”

  Lifting her fingers, she stroked his cheek. “I couldn’t either.”

  After another searing kiss, he murmured, “I’m taking you with me for the rest of the day and then we need to talk to your mother.”

  She nodded and he didn’t delay. Grabbing her jacket, he took her hand and guided her from the office. He waved to Patti as they got on the elevator. He wrapped her knee-length coat around her and held her close.

  As the doors opened in the lobby, he hugged her against his side and escorted her from the building.

  On the sidewalk, someone said in a loud whisper, “That’s Spencer Bishop! Get a pic!”

  He didn’t slow, nodding to his driver as he handed her into the back of his car. When he was beside her, the door closed with a soft thud.

  “The windows are tinted. No one can see us.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Throwing herself at him, Shania kissed him with all the pent-up emotions she’d carried in the days they’d been apart and he returned it with incredible enthusiasm.

  He lifted her to his lap and held her hard. As they pulled away, he wiped the tears that dampened her cheeks.

  Then she kissed him again.

  An indeterminate amount of time later, the car stopped and he set her beside him with a wink. The driver opened the door and Spencer stepped out on the sidewalk.

  Smiling down at her, he held out his hand and she took it. He didn’t release her when she was standing beside him.

  Leading her through the doors of a small shop, she realized they were in a jewelry store.

  “This is a special store to the Bishops. Every male in my family has bought jewelry for the women they loved here. They provide custom designs that take our legacy into consideration, creating pieces that stand the test of time.”

  An older man came out of the back and looked them over. “Just as you described her, Spencer. Come.”

  They followed him into a snug office lined with books. A table at one side was covered in delicate velvet.

  The shopkeeper gestured to two small boxes sitting in the middle of it. “I think you’ll find everything to your specifications.” With a nod, he added, “I’ll give you privacy.”

  Taking both of Shania’s hands as the door closed, Spencer stared into her eyes for a long moment.

  “Every Bishop bride has been entombed wearing her signature wedding ring. Each of those rings, over the last seventy-five years, has cradled the same diamond. It’s passed from one generation to the next and a copy is created for the original wearer.”

  “Spencer…”

  “This time, I need you to let me finish.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. “I’ve told you the stories of my family. Three generations before me have found their soulmate in a particular woman.”

  His fingers tightened around hers. “Those remarkable women have come from all walks of life, Shania. My great-grandmother was a house maid in Russia. My grandmother a shop girl. My own mother, of
whom I have no memory, was a tribal law attorney, in honor of her heritage.”

  Tilting her head, she murmured, “Really?”

  “Yes.” His smile lit up his face and she itched to sketch him. “You’re in excellent company, my beautiful artist. There’s no ideal you need to meet. There’s no formula to follow. The history or social standing of a Bishop wife is inconsequential.”

  Reaching out, he placed his palm over her heart. “This is the only pedigree required.” Leading her over to the table, he picked up one of the boxes.

  “I knew the instant I stepped off the elevator the day I met you that my wait – at long last – was over. I understood in that moment that my search was done. You’ve proven me right every moment since.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she whispered, “What if you’re wrong, Spencer? What if you just think I’m the right one?”

  “There’s nothing I can say to prove what I know to be true, Shania. All I can ask for is your trust and your belief that I know my heart. My well-ordered mind chose you, of the thousands of women who have crossed my path.”

  She believed him.

  “A month after I met you, I visited this shop with specifications for your wedding band. I didn’t know yet if you’d love me…but I had hope.” He shrugged. “The engagement ring, as I mentioned, is always the same.”

  In the intimate space that smelled of leather-bound books, Spencer Bishop III went down on one knee.

  “Being parted from you for four days was agony to me and I never want to experience it again. I need you with me because I love you. Will you marry me, Shania?”

  Taking his beautiful, familiar face in her hands, she closed her eyes and reopened them to answer quietly, “Yes, Spencer.”

  Then she hugged him with all her strength. He stood, taking her with him, and kissed her incoherent.

  Several minutes passed before he broke the kiss and leaned back enough to open the box.

  Eyes wide, she gasped. “That’s…way too big.”

  Nodding, he told her, “I knew you’d say that. It’s why I chose a simple band for you to wear most of the time.”

  “Seriously, you could feed a small country with that.”

  He laughed. “The company already does that.” Lifting her hand, he slipped the platinum band with a ridiculous five carat diamond on her finger. “My great-grandfather Andreas designed this for his Raisa on their twentieth anniversary. It rarely sat on her finger but today, you must wear it.”

  “I’d like to point out the fact that I’m glad to be right-handed. I probably wouldn’t be able to hold a pencil.”

  He grinned and gathered her in a hug. Reaching out, he picked up the second box and opened it. “This is your wedding ring.

  Meant to surround the engagement ring, the simpler band was stunning. Two strands of platinum woven together with small diamonds.

  Blinking back tears, she traced her finger over it. “It’s beautiful. Absolutely perfect.”

  He tucked the box in his pocket and kissed her forehead. “Now I’m taking you to lunch so we can talk.”

  He took her to The Boat House for lunch. The view of the autumn-touched park through the massive windows was spectacular. Spencer pulled out her chair and smoothed his palms over her shoulders when she sat.

  Several people recognized him but he pretended not to notice. More than once, she caught people taking photos of them with their cell phones.

  “Spencer…”

  “Ignore it.” He stared into her eyes. “Trust me.”

  “Spencer, people are taking pictures.”

  “Not only are you beautiful inside and out, you’re sitting with me, who you swear to be beautiful.”

  Reaching out, she held his hand on the table. “You are. I can’t wait to sketch you later.”

  “Once you add an obvious engagement ring, it causes quite a stir. I hate the attention but for today, I’ll bear it.”

  Their server tried to hide his smile as he appeared to take their order. Spencer ordered since she was having trouble concentrating.

  When the man was gone, he told her, “I don’t usually hang out in places where I’ll be recognized or dress to make my identity obvious. Today, it is necessary. We’ll get through it and then fade back into our quiet lives. You painting me, me making love to you, and living in blissful solitude.”

  She murmured, “For the most part.”

  “Exactly.”

  They chatted quietly until their food arrived. She was grateful for his attempts to ease her nerves.

  Before picking up his cutlery, he pulled her closer and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. She realized he held it long enough for photos to be snapped by patrons and staff alike.

  Stroking her cheek as he pulled away, he whispered, “That should hold them over.”

  “You’re used to them.”

  “Unfortunately. However, since I live a scandal-free life, I don’t have to interact with the press unless I’m at a function. I attend a lot of those but I’m adept at avoiding intrusions.”

  “Maybe I can learn to do that.”

  “You can. You will. Everything is going to be fine.”

  They ate and caught up on the days they’d been apart. It seemed a lot longer than it had been. It was clear the pain of it had been awful for both.

  Lesson learned.

  As the dishes were cleared, he moved closer so he could speak softly, their heads bent close together. He kept her hand wrapped in his larger one as he whispered at her ear and inspired more than one blush.

  She wondered at the amount of time they spent in the restaurant but understood when a society page reporter appeared beside their table. The woman’s photographer stood against a far wall snapping away with his camera.

  Her clothing and jewels were obviously expensive and the woman’s cultured voice, seeming at once deferential and like an old friend, wasted no time.

  “Spencer Bishop! Imagine seeing you here. You get more handsome – and frustratingly reclusive – every year.” It was a compliment and thinly veiled rebuke.

  “My apologies.” Spencer wasn’t sorry.

  The reporter’s lashes dipped to shield her eyes a moment before she turned her sharp gaze on Shania. She took in everything about her in an instant and Shania was reminded of a butterfly pinned to a frame.

  “Hello, darling. I’m Courtney Rockingham…and you are?”

  Gathering her composure, she provided a warm smile she didn’t feel. “Shania Murphy, Ms. Rockingham. A pleasure.”

  They shook delicately.

  “Where are you from, Miss Murphy?” It was a lead-in question that would no doubt lead to many others.

  “I’m going to save you time. I was born and raised in a little town outside of Savannah, Georgia. My father was a logger who died in an accident when I was a baby.”

  Swallowing hard, she kept going, “M-my mother has been a nurse all her adult life. She’s terminally ill so I ask for privacy. Her hospice nurse won’t open the door.”

  Unexpected tears welling in her eyes embarrassed her. She blotted them quickly. “I own a graphic design company. My passion is painting. I graduated from NYU with a master’s in digital design and a minor in art. I’m twenty-six, never married, no kids.”

  Clearing her throat, she continued, “No naughty past, though you’re welcome to go back as far as you like since I imagine that’s protocol.” Folding her hands in her lap, she asked, “How’s that?”

  There was a moment of stunned surprise before Ms. Rockingham gave a snort of laughter. “How honest. I’m thoroughly out of practice in dealing with such openness. Does that ring stand for what my imagination hopes?” Shania nodded with a blush. “Have you set a date?”

  She glanced at Spencer with a startled smile. “I was asked two hours ago. I-I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  Courtney considered her for a long moment. “You’re quite refreshing. You remind me of Spencer’s grandmother.”

  “A high compliment cons
idering her reputation. Thank you.”

  Wearing a broad smile, the reporter thanked them and stepped away to speak with her photographer.

  The moment they were out of earshot, Shania released a huge sigh of relief. Spencer slid his hand along the nape of her neck and settled his mouth over hers.

  Against her lips, he murmured, “You handled that perfectly and now the worst is over. My place or yours?”

  Arching her brow, she shot back, “Mine. I can suspend you.”

  She watched raw hunger flare in his eyes. “Darling, it’s totally your turn.” A small gasp and lick of her lips made him still. “Time to go.”

  He paid the check and pulled out her chair. As he guided her through the restaurant, people took pictures. A few even tried to be discreet about it.

  None of it mattered. All she cared about was getting him naked. Her fingers were twitching.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When they arrived at Shania’s house, all thoughts of sexual gratification evaporated.

  Beth met them in the foyer and it was immediately clear that something was wrong.

  The older woman said gently, “Shania…she’s at the end now. It will be a blessing for her. Arabella is in constant pain and I know you don’t want that for her.”

  “No. No, I don’t want her to hurt anymore.” Barely audible, tears already falling, she held Spencer’s hand tightly as they walked into Arabella’s room.

  In the short amount of time he’d been separated from the woman he loved, her mother had taken a severe turn.

  He was relieved they’d mended things between them. Arabella was Shania’s only family and he knew well what it was like to be alone after loss.

  Grief was coming and she’d need him to be strong for her.

  Spencer lifted Arabella carefully, making space beside her for her daughter. She was fragile, drifting in and out of consciousness. Stepping back, he bent to remove Shania’s coat and heels.

  He held her hand as she climbed in the bed. Laying her head on the pillow beside her mom, she wrapped her arm around her waist.