“No. I’ll hear whatever you have to say here, and then you can leave.”
He had to admire her. He’d angered women in the past, but none had stood up to him quite so strongly. Any resistance had always been overcome when he’d fixed an expensive necklace around their neck, or handed them first-class tickets to the Seychelles. Some he’d just had to kiss. He’d been spoiled, that much was obvious. But it stopped here and now, because there was no way Amber was going to let him off easy, if at all. That much was clear.
“I’m an idiot, Amber. An absolute idiot.”
“Well, at least that’s one thing we agree on.”
The rain had begun to seep under his thin jacket and trickle down his neck, but he knew he couldn’t leave until Amber had given him some sign that everything was okay between them. He had no choice but to go back to the beginning.
“It’s true that I first came to the café because I wanted to get to know you.”
“Touseme, you mean.”
He grunted and gave a short nod. He couldn’t quite bring himself to agree to that, even if it were true. “To get to know you. I’d seen your rainbows, and they were causing me no end of headaches, and I wanted to see the person behind them.”
“So you could put a stop to it.”
“I could have got the police to do that. You were painting on my property.”
“But you knew that we’d continue, because it wasn’t just the painting, it was that we were right—”
“Yes—”
“And that you were wrong. And you won’t admit it.”
“I just did,” he said quietly. “You and your friends were right all along. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened and lost their glitter. “You are?”
“Yes. I shouldn’t have been so rigid, so dogmatic as to impair my judgement. I was wrong, Amber. Wrong in so many ways. Wrong about the building, I should have listened to you and to everyone else, and wrong in my dealings with you. I’d always prized honesty, and yet I somehow lost the plot when it came to you. And I know why. Because I was scared I’d lose you. I’d always intended to have a rational talk to you, make you see sense and then leave it at that. What I hadn’t planned was on falling in love with you.”
Something like a whimper escaped Amber’s lips.
“I love you, Amber. And I want to marry you. That’s why I came.”
Another whimper, louder than before. “Okay. Perhaps you’d better come in then.”
She opened the door and stood to one side to let him enter. He stepped into the wooden-floored hallway, leaving a puddle around his feet.
“In fact, I think you’d better come into the bathroom. I’ll get you some towels.”
He followed her through the living room and sat on the side of the old-fashioned claw-footed bath. He gave his hair and face a cursory wipe.
Amber leaned against the side of the door, watching him. He hadn’t a clue what she was thinking. She hadn’t said anything since he’d proposed, apart from hand him some towels.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
It was a better offer than nothing. “Yes.”
“Shame, because I haven’t got any food you like.” His heart plummeted again. “I have some home-made hummus and vege sticks.” He felt as if he’d suddenly been transported back in time to when his mother had gone through her vegetarian phase. Thankfully, it hadn’t lasted long.
“That would be…” He was about to say lovely but didn’t want to say anything he didn’t mean.
“Nothing like what you want.” She finished his sentence. “Well, come and sit by the fire, anyway.”
He followed her into the small sitting room where flames from a log fire flickered along with the candles. The pretty large-flowered wallpaper which, he knew, was usually used only for a feature wall against some stark floor-to-ceiling window or brick wall, was here on all four walls. As he sat in the proffered bean bag and sank down, his wet trousers uncomfortable, he felt as if he were in some kind of nest of fire, flame and flowers. It was a strange feeling. Perhaps he was coming down with a chill. He closed his eyes without knowing it, but her soft voice broke through.
“So, what is it you want?”
