always were, even a dozen years ago. Now you’re one of the best cinematographers in the world, while I’m just another actress who has good years and bad years. My confidence is up at the moment, which is why I have the nerve to chase you, but my career could vanish like a crocodile in a swamp if this movie bombs."
"It won’t bomb."
"No way to tell yet." She gave him a level look. "You’re not only successful and a great guy, but you’ve worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world. What about me is special enough to hold the attention of a man of substance?"
He began to laugh. "So while I’ve been busy worshiping you, you’ve been cherishing exaggerated ideas of my importance. I should have asked you to marry me on our first go-around. I wanted to, but you were so hung up on that idiot actor that I knew you’d say no."
"If you’d proposed I might have said yes, but that wasn’t the right time, my love," she said seriously. "We were at the beginning of our careers. We needed to grow into our adult selves. In the last dozen years, I’ve met tons of men, dated a fair number, fancied myself in love a time or two. Now that I’ve looked over the field, I know the best when I see him. I’m ready to swim into deeper waters. Are you?"
He winced. Heaven was being offered, but not yet within reach. "I have to go to Argentina next week, and I’ll be there for at least four months, probably longer."
"I’m going to be madly busy for the next few months as well. But if we dig out our appointment books, surely we can find a time to start living together."
For the first time, he really believed that she meant it. She really meant it!
"No living together." He thought of his mother, who wanted him to marry a nice Ohio kind of girl. She’d freak at the sight of glamorous Jenny—then fall in love with her. "I’m from the Midwest, you know. If I’m going to take you home to meet the family, it will have to be marriage."
She bit one enchanting lip. "Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live together for a year or two? We’re both going to have to do some adjusting. I want to keep the cottage and spend a fair amount of the year in England. In fact, I’ll have to for the future Revels productions. You might not want that. And we’ll both have to cut back on our professional obligations if we’re ever going to spend any time together."
These were serious issues, so he considered them for about three seconds. "All true, but doable. I love the idea of having a home in England and a home here. I love the idea of this home. I love your family, and having Plato trot around carrying his buggy whip. I love the idea of taking fewer jobs so I can spend lots and lots of time with you.
"Most of all, I love you." He caught her gaze with his. "I don’t want to go into this with one hand on the doorknob so I can back out if we hit a few rough spots. I want the real thing, Jenny—an old-fashioned, till-death-do-us part marriage."
Her shining smile could have lit up the whole London Underground. "How deliciously Neanderthal. Very well, we shall marry. My family will be over the moon. My mother and Patricia have been making pointed comments about how much they like you and how well you fit into Upper Bassett." She growled deep in her throat as she kissed him again. "But before we start looking for wedding dates, can we play Tarzan and Jane?"
"Sure," he said obligingly. "Which role do you want?"
Bubbling with laughter, she rolled off the sofa, taking him with her onto the thick carpet. "You can be Tarzan this time. Then it will be my turn."
Tenderly he cupped her face between his hands. "You’re so beautiful, Jenny. So heart-stoppingly beautiful."
Some of her sparkle faded. "Appreciating beauty is a big part of what you do, Greg, but I hope to heaven you don’t think you love me because of my looks. Will you leave me when I get gray and plump and wrinkled?"
Startled, he recognized the insecurity under her words.
"It won’t bomb."
"No way to tell yet." She gave him a level look. "You’re not only successful and a great guy, but you’ve worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world. What about me is special enough to hold the attention of a man of substance?"
He began to laugh. "So while I’ve been busy worshiping you, you’ve been cherishing exaggerated ideas of my importance. I should have asked you to marry me on our first go-around. I wanted to, but you were so hung up on that idiot actor that I knew you’d say no."
"If you’d proposed I might have said yes, but that wasn’t the right time, my love," she said seriously. "We were at the beginning of our careers. We needed to grow into our adult selves. In the last dozen years, I’ve met tons of men, dated a fair number, fancied myself in love a time or two. Now that I’ve looked over the field, I know the best when I see him. I’m ready to swim into deeper waters. Are you?"
He winced. Heaven was being offered, but not yet within reach. "I have to go to Argentina next week, and I’ll be there for at least four months, probably longer."
"I’m going to be madly busy for the next few months as well. But if we dig out our appointment books, surely we can find a time to start living together."
For the first time, he really believed that she meant it. She really meant it!
"No living together." He thought of his mother, who wanted him to marry a nice Ohio kind of girl. She’d freak at the sight of glamorous Jenny—then fall in love with her. "I’m from the Midwest, you know. If I’m going to take you home to meet the family, it will have to be marriage."
She bit one enchanting lip. "Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live together for a year or two? We’re both going to have to do some adjusting. I want to keep the cottage and spend a fair amount of the year in England. In fact, I’ll have to for the future Revels productions. You might not want that. And we’ll both have to cut back on our professional obligations if we’re ever going to spend any time together."
These were serious issues, so he considered them for about three seconds. "All true, but doable. I love the idea of having a home in England and a home here. I love the idea of this home. I love your family, and having Plato trot around carrying his buggy whip. I love the idea of taking fewer jobs so I can spend lots and lots of time with you.
"Most of all, I love you." He caught her gaze with his. "I don’t want to go into this with one hand on the doorknob so I can back out if we hit a few rough spots. I want the real thing, Jenny—an old-fashioned, till-death-do-us part marriage."
Her shining smile could have lit up the whole London Underground. "How deliciously Neanderthal. Very well, we shall marry. My family will be over the moon. My mother and Patricia have been making pointed comments about how much they like you and how well you fit into Upper Bassett." She growled deep in her throat as she kissed him again. "But before we start looking for wedding dates, can we play Tarzan and Jane?"
"Sure," he said obligingly. "Which role do you want?"
Bubbling with laughter, she rolled off the sofa, taking him with her onto the thick carpet. "You can be Tarzan this time. Then it will be my turn."
Tenderly he cupped her face between his hands. "You’re so beautiful, Jenny. So heart-stoppingly beautiful."
Some of her sparkle faded. "Appreciating beauty is a big part of what you do, Greg, but I hope to heaven you don’t think you love me because of my looks. Will you leave me when I get gray and plump and wrinkled?"
Startled, he recognized the insecurity under her words.
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