“I figured they belonged here with me.”
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
“I didn’t really have anything of yours after you left,” Marc explained. “Except for photos.” He inhaled and glanced out the windows to the lake in the distance. “Truth be told, I sort of stole it from Mom. I didn’t want to have to deal with her questions if I asked for permission for them.”
“When did you take them?” Mari asked in a hushed voice.
Marc met her gaze again. “One weekend…after the Palmer House.”
Mari swallowed and carefully replaced the dried flowers in the book. She stood and slid the photo album back into its place on the shelf. When she turned, she saw him examining her appearance.
“You look gorgeous. You dressed up. I ordered in some food for us, but we can go out if you like.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m glad you planned to stay in.”
His grin caused something to hitch in her chest. “I’ll take you for dinner tomorrow night. Some place nice. Tonight, I ordered in from a favorite restaurant—French Vietnamese cuisine. They already delivered. It’s warming in the oven.”
“Great.”
“I have some wine chilled,” he said, pointing toward the kitchen. “I’ll just…”
Mari stepped forward, halting his exit by placing her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, surprised by her abrupt movement. Standing this close, she could smell the scent of his soap and spicy cologne and could see the flecks of green in the midst of the sky-blue of his iris.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what? Stealing some dried flowers?”
“No. For not forgetting me…for not giving up.”
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him fleetingly on the mouth. When she lowered and looked up at him, she saw that he looked stunned.
“How about that food? I’m hungrier than I thought I would be.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen in a silent prompt.
He blinked, seeming to come out of his daze. “Right,” he said. “Dinner.”
Mari smiled as she followed him. He was usually so confident. It did something to her to see him off balance, even if it had lasted for all of two seconds.
Marc had ordered multiple items, so they opened all the cartons and spooned small portions from each onto their plates. The food was some of the best she’d ever eaten, and Mari didn’t think it was just because of the company. There was steamed Chilean sea bass with cellophane noodles and oyste
r mushrooms; jumbo shrimp, asparagus and scallions; diced filet mignon and yams in a light sate sauce and a lovely salad made with lotus root, cucumber, tomatoes and a tamarind dressing.
Just as Mari picked up her fork to begin, Marc hopped up from his seat. “Hold on… I forgot.”
He came back into the dining room carrying a candlestick and brand new taper. Grinning, he lit the candle and sat down across from Mari.
“So proud of yourself, aren’t you?” she teased as she forked a succulent shrimp.
“Well, you’ve got to admit, when you get a caveman to serve you fine cuisine by candlelight, it’s a small miracle, right?”
Mari gave a small moan as she chewed the shrimp. “You did very well, Caveman.”
A while later she leaned back in her chair and sighed as she stared out at the dark blue lake and muted lavender sky. The flickering candle was starting to cast shadows on the ceiling. It would be dark soon. She lazily forked her last bite of salad and chewed it slowly, appreciating the subtle blend of flavors on her tongue.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she murmured.
“I’m glad you liked it.” He nodded at her full wine glass. “Wine not to your liking?”
“Oh… No, it’s fine,” she said hastily. “The food was so delicious I didn’t have a thought for it, that’s all.”