Five years later
CHAMPAGNE BUBBLED, diamonds glistened, strings from the quartet hired to play for the Broadway cast party wept, although the mood of the night was unrelentingly upbeat as the reviews continued to come in.
“‘Brilliant. Haunting and emotional,’” the pretty blond actress hired to play the lead in the Gothic romantic musical read out loud. “‘With a superb score that heightens the sense of moody isolation.’”
“‘A must-see,’” her stage lover read from another paper. His dangerous dark looks and deep baritone voice had earned him the cover of both People and Time and had brought back the term matinee idol. “‘The electric score is the backbone of this excellent-in-every-way musical, reminding us that show tunes can reach the loftiest of heights in the hands of a brilliantly creative composer.’”
“‘Brilliant and stunning, with all the emotions of love, hate, fear, misery and love rising and falling in the score,’” the producer read from yet another review.
“Brilliant seems to be the word of the evening,” Hunter murmured in Gillian’s ear as they stood near the windows of New York City’s Rainbow Room, looking down at the dazzling lights that winked like fallen stars far below.
She smiled up at him, enjoying her night of triumph. Enjoying sharing it with her husband even more. “It may be an overused word. But I have to admit that I like it.”
“You are brilliant, Gillian.” He put his arm around her bare shoulder and drew her to him.
The room was filled with people who had a stake in tonight’s Broadway opening, along with others who just felt the need to be near success. And from the opening note of tonight’s performance, it was obvious that everyone in the audience had realized that they were witnessing something special. “Which is why you deserve to have the entire world at your feet.”
“It isn’t exactly the entire world.” But from this magical room high above the city, she could see the bright marquee with her name spelled out in lights, just as she’d always dreamed.
He chuckled. “Try telling that to your average New Yorker.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and felt it happening again—Hunter’s ability to shut out the world, to narrow the focus down, even in a crowd like this, to just the two of them. She’d given up trying to figure out how he did it. But there were occasions, like tonight, when she was certainly glad he possessed the somewhat eerie ability.
“Try telling any New Yorker that he’s average,” she countered. “I love the city,” she admitted. “The vitality, the neighborhoods, the scents and sounds and food. But I’ll be glad to get back home.”
“I’ll second that.” Oblivious to any audience, he touched his lips to the top of her hair, which she’d swept up atop her head for the formal occasion. “The kids will be glad to have you back, too. When I called Mrs. Adams during intermission, she said that Sarah has composed a welcome-home song for us.”
“That’s sweet.”
“And Spencer blew up the kitchen.”
A light, airy tune had been singing in her head, but Hunter’s words got her immediate attention. “He didn’t!”
“Not really.” He grinned. “It was just a little experiment with some baking powder that went awry. The painters should be done before we get home.”
“He certainly is his father’s child,” Gillian said on a sigh.
“As Sarah is her mother’s,” Hunter pointed out. The twins had possessed remarkably individual personalities from the beginning. “Perhaps this third time we’ll get a blend.”
“Perhaps.” Gillian smiled up at him as she touched a hand to her still-flat stomach. She’d taken the pregnancy test before getting dressed for tonight’s opening performance. When she’d viewed the positive results, she’d quit worrying about any reviews. Because no matter how long she’d waited for this moment, no play was as important as this child she and Hunter had made together in love.
“Do you think I’ve done my duty long enough?” she asked.
The warmth in his gaze turned to alarm. “Is something wrong? Are you all right? Is it the baby?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, and the baby is, as far as I can tell at this early stage in the game, nice and cozy. I was just thinking I’d like to go back to the hotel suite and continue this celebration in private.”
His eyes darkened with a lusty speculation Gillian knew would still have the power to thrill her when she was a very old lady teaching her great-grandchildren scales on the magnificent Steinway Hunter had bought her.
“Brilliant,” he murmured as he began leading her through the crush of partygoers.
Escape took longer than hoped, since they had to stop every few feet across the room so Gillian could accept more hugs, more air kisses aimed at her cheeks, more accolades.
“Alone at last.” He sighed with relief as the elevator doors closed and they began the swift descent to the lobby. He leaned against the back wall and drew her into his arms. “I thought we’d never get out of there.”
“People stay up later in New York than they do in Castle Mountain,” she pointed out. “Technically, the night’s still young.” She tipped her head back and lifted her face for his kiss. A slow, seductive kiss that had her toes curling in her ridiculously high Italian heels.
“I love my necklace,” she murmured against his mouth. It was created of diamonds and emeralds set in platinum.
“I’m glad.” The elevator came to a stop. “Because I loved buying it for you.”
The door slid open. “As it happens, I have a little gift for you, too,” she murmured.
As she left the elevator in front of him, Hunter was treated to a mouthwatering display of bare flesh framed by the plunging back of the long black silk dress.
“Are you going to tell me what it is? Or do I have to wait?”
“That depends on how you feel about making mad, passionate love in a limo.”
“You know me. I’m up for anything where you’re concerned, sweetheart. Though getting naked in a moving vehicle has always sounded a bit tricky,” he tacked on.
The limousine slid silently to the curb just as they walked out of the building. Hunter waved off the driver and opened the back door himself.
“Maybe it won’t be as tricky as you think, darling.” The smoldering come-hither glance Gillian shot back over her shoulder as she climbed into the long black limo was designed to bring a man to his knees. “Oh?”
Her incredible eyes sparkled with a combination of lust and humor as bright as the precious stones she wore around her neck. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”