“Good. Then maybe you’ll also accept that I’m right when I say I think we belong together. I’m asking you to be my wife, Kenzie.”
“I barely know you.” Her words were just a whisper.
“You know me better than most.” His voice became low and husky. “You’re afraid.”
“Yes.”
“Of me?” he asked with a look of doubt.
“Of everything. I’m afraid of you—of us. I’m afraid to feel and be hurt again. I’m afraid of making foolish mistakes. I’m afraid we’ll have another earthquake. Sometimes I wake up at night thinking I smell smoke.” She knew she was rambling.
Micah put his hands on her shoulders. “Kenzie, you don’t have to be afraid of me. I love you. No one will ever love you as much as I do.”
“Arthur once said the same thing to me.”
Micah pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Kenzie stood stiff, unwilling to give in to the desires that coursed through her. Seeming to understand what she was doing, Micah pulled back just enough to speak.
“I’m not Arthur. I’m Micah Fisher, and I want to share my life with you. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way.”
“I ... don’t know what I feel. I want to believe you. I want to...”
“Just tell me you’ll give me a chance. Agree to court me—to consider marriage. Don’t make me pay for Arthur’s mistakes.”
She nodded, knowing that more than anything, she wanted this chance for herself.
Micah gazed at her in surprise. “Are you saying yes? Yes, that you’ll give me a chance—give us a chance?”
Kenzie nodded again. “Yes.”
She saw the elation in his expression before he kissed her with the same enthusiasm he had the very first time.
“Unhand my wife!”
At first Kenzie thought she had imagined the command, but when Micah straightened and turned toward the voice, she knew she hadn’t.
“Excuse me?” Micah said.
The handsome blond man stepped forward. “I said, unhand my wife.”
Micah looked back at Kenzie, who was certain she might faint. She whispered the name of the man she’d hoped never to see again.
“Arthur.”
CHAPTER
10
I’m here to see Mr. Bridgestone,” Caleb said to the young man who served as the law firm’s secretary.
“Yes, he’s expecting you.” The young man motioned Caleb to follow him.
Caleb looked around, hoping he might spy Sam and learn what the trouble was before he had to be surprised by Mr. Bridgestone. The letter Caleb had received that morning said the matter was of the utmost urgency and requested he come as soon as possible.
Rather than go to Bridgestone’s office, the secretary took him to another part of the house. “This is one of the family’s sitting rooms,” he explained. “Mr. Bridgestone asked for you to join him here.” He opened the pocket door to reveal a large, well-appointed room with a fire burning in the hearth despite the warmth of the day.
Caleb stepped inside to be greeted by Bridgestone, who sat at the far end of the room with a woman. The woman, obviously in mourning, wore black, and a heavy veil hung from her stylish hat. Bridgestone got to his feet and greeted Caleb.
“I appreciate you coming so quickly. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but given you are rather critical to this situation, I felt it best to start with you.”
