Flirting With Forever Gwyn Cready (best book series to read txt) 📖

the emerald signet ring, savoring his first taste of a life free from guilt and pain, a parched man handed water.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Peter, you must,” she said.

He licked his lips, staring far into the snowy night. She touched his hand. He looked surprised, and she directed him to open it. When he did, she pul ed a hairpin from her hair and placed it there. “Just think of me every once in a while. That wil be al I need.”

“Campbel , I …”

“You know what you must choose. For her. For your son.”

Cam heard a clatter behind her and turned. It was Jeanne, running toward them, looking panicked. “You look different in men’s clothes,” she said to Mertons, and to Cam: “C’mon, Packard wants to see you.”

“Not now.”

“It’s important.”

Peter caught Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “Self-confidence, remember. Go. I wil wait.”

Cam could barely breathe. “You wil ?”

“Yes.” His dark eyes affirmed the promise. “I swear it.”

“Peter,” Mertons warned.

But Cam didn’t have to run. Packard strode in, mouth tight. “I need you to convince Bal to let us look at it.”

“Sure,” Cam said. “Where is he?”

“The boardroom.”

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Packard said. “Our curator was overheard saying it was a fake and that you did it. I don’t believe you did it, but I’m in a tough spot, with my key expert having once disputed it.”

Peter made a low growl. “I think you wil find proof enough when you examine it.”

Mertons looked at his watch. “We cannot stay long. A quarter hour at most.”

Peter, awash in a raging sea of emotion, said, “We’l stay.” He gazed at the Bonnard. He knew exactly why Bonnard had done it. He thought of Ursula and his son and what it means to love someone. He thought of that ring, back on Cam’s finger after she’d removed it this afternoon and placed it in her pocket. He thought of his own ring and the many years it had represented a burden he could not unshoulder. He even thought of Rick and Ilsa. How long he stood there he did not know. He knew what he had to do.

“Where did they say they were?”

Mertons looked at his watch. “Peter, you don’t have time.”

“To hel with you and your requirements. I’m saying good-bye.” Peter ran.

59

Bal gazed at his hands on the boardroom table and sighed. Cam said a silent prayer.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bal .”

Packard gave Cam a grateful look. “Excel ent. Should we head down to Cam’s office?”

She glanced at the clock. Her only thoughts were with Peter. How long would he stay? Could she say good-bye?

The group exited Packard’s office single file, Cam last.

Anastasia stood with a drink, halfway down the hal . She gave Cam a sorrowful look. Cam thumped her on the back.

“Anastasia,” Packard said. “Let’s go.”

Then Cam saw Peter, and her heart sunk. He stood in an archway, nearly out of sight, with the grave look of a man facing down his fate. He motioned her toward him, and the movement was so poignant, her eyes began to fil .

“Cam,” Packard said. “Are you coming?”

“What? No.” Her lip started to tremble and a tear ran down her cheek. “I have to do something. You go without me.”

“Cam—”

“Let her go,” said Bal , who was looking down the same archway.

She ran to Peter and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, hard. The tears ran freely now, and she didn’t care. For one last time she could dry them against Peter’s broad chest and take comfort in the iron circle of his arms.

“I want to say good-bye.”

Her shoulders heaved as a new round of tears overtook her. “I know. I know.” She laced her fingers at his back, trying to keep time from moving.

“I want you to wear this.” He pul ed away and opened her hand. Without ceremony, he dropped the emerald ring onto her palm. Shaking and uncertain until she looked into his eyes, she slipped the ring on her middle finger, where it towered, enormous, over her knuckle.

“Careful,” he said, “there may be paint on it.”

She wiped her eyes, confused.

“I want to say good-bye, Cam, but not to you. To Ursula.

Mertons warned me once that if I put my mark on any piece of art