wine list, then realized that in this country, Amelia couldn’t drink anything alcoholic.
Instead he ordered lemonade and bruschetta.
And at 7 p.m. precisely, his heart stopped in his chest when Amelia walked through the door.
She wore a blue dress, those tall brown boots, a leather jacket, and a teal-and-blue scarf he remembered buying for her in Paris. Her beautiful auburn hair was pulled into a long, sweeping tail.
He stood as she approached. “You came.” Oh, he didn’t mean for it to emerge quite so desperate, but there it was, his heart beating and raw right outside his chest. He tried to reel it back with “You look so lovely.”
She caught her lip in her teeth. “Thank you.”
He pulled out her chair. She sat, sighing, her eyes following him into the seat. “You know this isn’t necessary, right? I have already forgiven you.”
“I wanted to explain.”
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” She clutched her bag in her lap. “Frankly I feel silly for making such a fuss about it.”
He sat back, flummoxed.
She didn’t look at him as she spoke, not slowing. “But don’t you think this is quite a bit of work for a fling? I mean yes, we had fun but —”
“A fling?” He schooled his voice just in time. The waiter approached with the lemonade, but Roark gestured him away. “Amelia, I do not consider what we had a fling.”
She lifted a shoulder, looked out the window, and he saw her swallow.
Steady, boy. This was not the conversation he’d planned. “Darling. Never once did I believe that you were a dalliance. Every moment we spent together was . . . breathtaking. I never meant for you to think otherwise.”
She sighed again, and he took the moment to dive in. “That woman you saw me with —her name is Cicely. She is just a friend —”
“It doesn’t matter, Roark. I don’t care how many female friends you have. I was childish and stupid to be angry over something that is so easily explained.”
Oh. But her mouth tightened into a smile that seemed forced at best. “You did me a favor. Did us a favor. See, we never would have worked, not really.”
He sat back, stunned. Took a breath. “I don’t —”
“You and I are vastly different people.”
They were? He wanted to argue then, a match lighting inside. Never had he felt so in tune, so right.
“Listen, I went to Prague to find adventure. And I found it.” She smiled, something genuine this time, her eyes softening. “You gave it to me.”
He did?
“We had a grand time, didn’t we?”
He didn’t quite know —“We did. I thought we did.”
She gave a small laugh. “You remember when we went on that hunt for apple strudel?”
“You saw it on a television show here in the States and demanded we find it.”
“We took three trains, a bus, and walked a mile through a park.”
“And when we got there, the store was closed.” His sudden hope felt too feeble to smile.
“You bought me a Nutella waffle that night from a street vendor,” she said. “We ate them at the park right by the Church of Virgin Mary of the Snows.”
“The Franciscan Garden.”
“You told me about this place in Paris where you could get crepes the size of American pizzas.”
“You remember?”
“Because you took me there when we went to Paris.” Her eyes were shining now, free of the shadows that had hovered when she arrived.
He wanted to signal for the waiter, but he feared losing the moment.
“You kept me safe. Showed me Europe. And for that, I’ll forever be grateful.”
That’s when her voice changed. He felt the words coming and couldn’t stop himself from reaching out for her. But she kept her hands in her lap.
“But that was a different world, Roark. Your world. This one is mine. And . . . I think we need to recognize what we had for what it was.”
He couldn’t utter the word.
“A fling.”
His jaw tightened, his chest webbing. “It wasn’t —”
“Let’s be honest. Yes, we
Instead he ordered lemonade and bruschetta.
And at 7 p.m. precisely, his heart stopped in his chest when Amelia walked through the door.
She wore a blue dress, those tall brown boots, a leather jacket, and a teal-and-blue scarf he remembered buying for her in Paris. Her beautiful auburn hair was pulled into a long, sweeping tail.
He stood as she approached. “You came.” Oh, he didn’t mean for it to emerge quite so desperate, but there it was, his heart beating and raw right outside his chest. He tried to reel it back with “You look so lovely.”
She caught her lip in her teeth. “Thank you.”
He pulled out her chair. She sat, sighing, her eyes following him into the seat. “You know this isn’t necessary, right? I have already forgiven you.”
“I wanted to explain.”
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” She clutched her bag in her lap. “Frankly I feel silly for making such a fuss about it.”
He sat back, flummoxed.
She didn’t look at him as she spoke, not slowing. “But don’t you think this is quite a bit of work for a fling? I mean yes, we had fun but —”
“A fling?” He schooled his voice just in time. The waiter approached with the lemonade, but Roark gestured him away. “Amelia, I do not consider what we had a fling.”
She lifted a shoulder, looked out the window, and he saw her swallow.
Steady, boy. This was not the conversation he’d planned. “Darling. Never once did I believe that you were a dalliance. Every moment we spent together was . . . breathtaking. I never meant for you to think otherwise.”
She sighed again, and he took the moment to dive in. “That woman you saw me with —her name is Cicely. She is just a friend —”
“It doesn’t matter, Roark. I don’t care how many female friends you have. I was childish and stupid to be angry over something that is so easily explained.”
Oh. But her mouth tightened into a smile that seemed forced at best. “You did me a favor. Did us a favor. See, we never would have worked, not really.”
He sat back, stunned. Took a breath. “I don’t —”
“You and I are vastly different people.”
They were? He wanted to argue then, a match lighting inside. Never had he felt so in tune, so right.
“Listen, I went to Prague to find adventure. And I found it.” She smiled, something genuine this time, her eyes softening. “You gave it to me.”
He did?
“We had a grand time, didn’t we?”
He didn’t quite know —“We did. I thought we did.”
She gave a small laugh. “You remember when we went on that hunt for apple strudel?”
“You saw it on a television show here in the States and demanded we find it.”
“We took three trains, a bus, and walked a mile through a park.”
“And when we got there, the store was closed.” His sudden hope felt too feeble to smile.
“You bought me a Nutella waffle that night from a street vendor,” she said. “We ate them at the park right by the Church of Virgin Mary of the Snows.”
“The Franciscan Garden.”
“You told me about this place in Paris where you could get crepes the size of American pizzas.”
“You remember?”
“Because you took me there when we went to Paris.” Her eyes were shining now, free of the shadows that had hovered when she arrived.
He wanted to signal for the waiter, but he feared losing the moment.
“You kept me safe. Showed me Europe. And for that, I’ll forever be grateful.”
That’s when her voice changed. He felt the words coming and couldn’t stop himself from reaching out for her. But she kept her hands in her lap.
“But that was a different world, Roark. Your world. This one is mine. And . . . I think we need to recognize what we had for what it was.”
He couldn’t utter the word.
“A fling.”
His jaw tightened, his chest webbing. “It wasn’t —”
“Let’s be honest. Yes, we
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