moved gently toward him and kissed him, softly, on the lips. They stood there for a long, silent moment, very close, with their eyes closed, and then she felt Peter's arms go around her, and she felt more at peace than she had in over a year. She felt safe. He held her that way for what seemed like a very long time, and then he bent his face down to hers and kissed her with the pent-up passion of four years. He had had other women since Livia had died, but there had been no one he had loved. Not until Nancy. “Do you know that I love you?” He stepped back and looked down at her with a smile she had never seen before. It made her feel at once happy and sad, because she wasn't sure she was ready yet to give him all that he was giving her. She loved him, but not … not the way his eyes told her he loved her.
“I love you, too, Peter. In my own peculiar way.”
“That'll do for now.” livia had told him that at first, too. It was frightening, sometimes, how much alike they were. “You know, Faye helped me a great deal when she died. That was why I thought she'd be good for you.” She had also helped him in other ways, but that didn't matter, not now.
“You were right. She's been wonderful. You both have.” She took his hand then, and they began to walk back up the beach. “Peter … I… I don't know how to say this, but … I don't want to hurt you. I do love you, but I'm still packing up my past. Piece by piece, bit by bit. It may still take me a little time.”
“I'm in no hurry. I'm a man of great patience.”
“Good. Because I want you to be there when I'm ready.”
“I'll be there. Don't worry.” And the way he said it made her feel happy and warm. She wondered if perhaps she did love him more than she knew. And then as they walked along, she had a sudden thought. It frightened her and excited her, but she knew that she wanted to do it. He caught the sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him as they got back to the car. “And just what exactly do you have up your sleeve?”
“Never mind.”
“Oh, God. Now what?” Several weeks before she had phoned him one morning at dawn, to tell him he had to get up to watch the sensational sunrise. “Nancy … no, Marie. From now on, it's Marie, and only Marie. But tell me, is Marie as outrageous as Nancy?”
“More so. She has all kinds of new ideas.”
“Oh, no, spare me.” But he didn't look as though he wanted to be spared. Not for a moment. “A little hint maybe? Just a small one?” But she was shaking her head and laughing at him as Fred hopped onto her lap and Peter started the car. “Well, I have an idea for you myself. The work on your face will be done by the end of the year. How about starting the new year with a show of the photographic artwork of Marie Adamson? Will you agree to that?”
“I might.” She was actually beginning to like the idea, and something had happened that afternoon to make her feel brave again. Maybe telling him how she felt about Michael, hearing about the woman he had loved … being in his arms, being kissed by a man again. “I'll think about the show.”
“No. Promise me. In fact—” He took the key out of the ignition, slipped it under him on the seat, and turned to smile at her. “I won't take you home until you agree to a show, and I hope you're too much of a lady to wrestle me for the key.”
“Okay. You win.” She ruffled Fred's fur and laughed. “I give up. I'll have a show.”
“As easy as that?” He was stunned.
“As easy as that. But just how do you propose I go about getting myself shown?”
“Leave that to me. Is that a deal?”
“Yes, sir, it is.” She trusted him with her work as much as she had with her face and her life.
“Darling, you won't regret it.” He gently took her face in his hands, kissed her, and started the car again. It had been a beautiful day.
They drove home slowly along the coast, and Peter regretfully stopped the car