The Man's Outrageous Demands Page 0,60

I can only show you that I respect your work and the things you’re accomplishing by ensuring that you’re safe when you do them. And as for loving you, you’re in love with me but you’ve never said so yourself, have you?”

Marabeth blinked, surprised by his comment. Was she in love with him? The crushing realization was true. She was in love with him. Desperately so. It wasn’t just the sex. She loved even his arrogance although she wished it wasn’t at the expense of the things she considered important.

“Yes, I love you.” She shook her head. “But I won’t go into a marriage with someone who doesn’t respect me,” she said. dealt with it then. But I didn’t love George. without respect.”

“I had that with George and would have Since I do love you, I won’t marry you

“What do I have to do to prove that I respect you?” he asked, feeling very confident and wonderful at the moment. She’d admitted that she loved him. That was half the battle, wasn’t it? More than half he thought.

“Like I said, you have to respect the things I do and learn to trust me.”

“Fine. I’m not sure how we’ll go about doing that, but give me a chance and send me some signals and I’ll do my best,” he said.

Marabeth thought that was a good enough start. She smiled, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “Okay then.”

“Good. Will you come to my house tonight? I’ll cook for you,” he said. “And you can tell me what you’ve done today.”

Marabeth had to laugh. She knew what was on his mind and it wasn’t her daily activities, which he knew inside and out because he read about them in the daily reports. “Fine,” she agreed.

Sam took another bite, then stood up. “I have to go if I’m going to be finished at a reasonable hour. I’ll meet you in the garage at seven?” he asked.

“Seven o’clock,” she agreed.

He was almost to the door to the dining room when he stopped and turned back. He walked back to where she was still sitting at the table and bent down to kiss her. “Thank you for talking to me,” he said, then winked at her. “And would you please go get a dress for our wedding?”

Marabeth laughed, feeling good now that he had thanked her. “Yes. I believe Stacy made an appointment for me with the designer this afternoon.”

“Good.”

The next two weeks were the most magical of Marabeth’s life. She spent the day working in her office and had meetings brought to the palace since Sam still didn’t think it was safe enough for her to leave. But the evenings were spent together. They ate dinner every night although sometimes it was late. Sam asked her about her day and she shared her concerns with him about some of the charities that popped up. And when he offered to look into them for her, she rejected his offer telling him that she had her own ways of researching the organizations. Wonderfully, he accepted that and even more, he shared his day with her. She found that he was truly a visionary when it came to the military and the various needs of the forces. He had some wonderful changes he’d like to make but also knew the hurdles he’d have to overcome in order to implement those changes.

Marabeth thrived through those two weeks. She had several fittings for her wedding dress which was going to be beautiful with a fitted bodice and a flowing, chiffon skirt that skimmed the floor with sparkling beads embedded in the folds of the chiffon. There was a long train that would accompany her down the aisle but would be taken off for the reception so it didn’t get in the way. Her veil was made of the lightest tulle and had the same sparkling beads sewn into the folds as well as the skirt.

She felt like she was on top of the world and if Sam didn’t say he loved her again after their one lunch, she dismissed it as unnecessary. All she wanted was his respect and that would be enough. At least she tried to convince herself of that.

Stacy stood in the doorway to Marabeth’s office, obviously not wanting to interrupt Marabeth’s train of thought. But the issue couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Marabeth, but…”

Marabeth stood up and watched her secretary warily. “What’s wrong?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t good news if Stacy’s body language was