Three days later…
‘YOUR flight should be ready for boarding in half an hour or so, Miss Harris,’ the hostess in the executive lounge at Heathrow Airport told Rosie as she cleared away Rosie’s used cup. ‘Could I get you another drink while you’re waiting?’
Rosie looked up to return the other woman’s smile. ‘A coffee would be lovely, thank you,’ she accepted, not too bothered by the slight delay in her flight.
The last few days had been hectic, to say the least, and it was nice just to sit down in the airport lounge and relax, away from the barrage of reporters who seemed to have been dogging her every move since she’d arrived back in England. At least they couldn’t follow her in here!
Rosie couldn’t help smiling as she looked across the room at two small children standing gazing at the enormous Christmas tree that dominated one corner of the room, their faces glowing as they looked up at the multitude of coloured lights and the star shining at the top of the tree. The light snow falling outside on the airport runways was a perfect backdrop for their obvious excitement at the rapidly approaching time for Father Christmas to arrive.
The snow reminded her of Canada. Of Hawk…
‘Could you make that two coffees, please?’ a familiar voice drawled huskily from just behind Rosie.
She spun sharply round in her chair to look up at Hawk with dazed eyes. It was almost as if just thinking about him had brought him here!
But he really was here!
Not just in England, but here, in the executive lounge at Heathrow Airport, of all places!
‘Of course, Mr Hawkley.’ The hostess gave him a beaming smile, before disappearing back to her workstation.
Rosie barely noticed the other woman leaving, having eyes only for Hawk.
She had thought of him so often since they had parted three days ago—of how his dark overlong hair felt so silky to touch, of his eyes that deep, warm blue in his ruggedly handsome face, a face she loved so much!—that for a moment she remained speechless and just continued to stare at him.
Hawk tilted his head slightly sideways, smiling ruefully as he looked down at her. ‘Can I sit down?’ he prompted softly.
‘I—of course,’ she replied awkwardly. ‘Please do.’ She indicated the chair opposite hers—a gesture he ignored as he lowered his long length into the chair next to her. ‘I didn’t even know you were in Britain…?’ She had spoken to her father several times over the last few days, and again only a few hours ago, and he hadn’t mentioned that Hawk was in the UK…
Hawk gave a half-smile. ‘I’m not. Well, I am—obviously—but only just.’ He grimaced. ‘Rosie, I got off the plane that just arrived from Calgary…’
The same flight she would be getting on to return to Canada…
Now she was thoroughly confused. If Hawk had only just arrived, what was he doing in the executive lounge…?
Where to begin? That was Hawk’s problem. It had all seemed so much easier after he had seen the announcement of the cancellation of Rosie’s wedding in the newspaper. He would fly over, see her, talk to her—see if he couldn’t persuade her that there was now no reason why she couldn’t come back to Canada to spend Christmas with her father. And him, of course…
Only it hadn’t worked out that way!
‘You telephoned Donald when, to tell him you were flying over for Christmas after all?’ he asked.
‘Just a couple of hours ago, when I managed to get booked on the flight,’ Rosie said slowly.
Hawk nodded. ‘And I was already on the incoming flight, coming to see you. Luckily Donald had the foresight to book me on the same flight back as you. Thanks.’ He gave the hostess a warm smile as she brought them their coffee.
Only one thing in Hawk’s statement really registered with Rosie. ‘You flew over to see me…?’
Why had he flown over to see her? The two of them hadn’t parted very well in Canada, or so much as spoken to each other on the telephone since she had arrived back in England, so why had Hawk flown over to see her now?
‘Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?’ She knew from her father that Hawk’s parents, sister and her family had already arrived to spend Christmas with him.
‘Shouldn’t you be somewhere else today too?’ he came back pointedly.
Christmas Eve. Her wedding day. Except that both of them knew it wasn’t.
Rosie shook her head. ‘The only place I want to be for Christmas is Canada, with Donald.’ With you, she added inwardly, still not sure what Hawk was doing here.
Hawk looked at her long and hard for several long seconds before answering. ‘And the only person I want to be with for Christmas is sitting right here, next to me.’ He spoke gruffly, that dark blue gaze never leaving her face.
‘Hawk…?’ she breathed raggedly, hardly daring to breathe at all, in case all of this was a dream and she woke up.
He shrugged powerful shoulders beneath the brown suede jacket he wore over a black silk shirt and black denims. ‘I was an idiot three days ago. I should never have let you leave like that. At the very least I should have insisted on coming with you. But I thought you had only come to Canada because you’d had some sort of falling-out with the guy you were due to marry—that you would come back here and everything would be smoothed out again. Hell, Rosie,’ he cried, ‘you could have at least told me that Edmund Price is almost old enough to be your grandfather!’
‘He isn’t that old!’ she exclaimed protestingly.
‘Okay—your father, then.’ Hawk scowled. ‘I thought he was some young guy that— Never mind,’ he dismissed impatiently, reaching out to take one of her hands in both of his. ‘That relationship is definitely over?’
‘As far as I was concerned it never began, really,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘My mother thought it would be a good idea for me to marry a prestigious conductor like Edmund—that it could only further my career. Having no backbone at the time, I went along with it.’ She grimaced self-disgustedly.
‘You have backbone, Rosie—’
‘Now I do.’ She nodded firmly. ‘But no matter what you may have thought, what that newspaper article said, I had already broken my engagement before I went to Canada to see Donald,’ she added determinedly, her hand feeling very warm inside Hawk’s. ‘My mother was the source of the article you read in that newspaper three days ago.’ She sighed. ‘She refused to accept that the wedding was off—simply couldn’t bear to have anyone thwart her. But I’ve broken all my business ties with my mother since I returned. In future I intend managing my own career and my own life,’ she told him decisively.
The scene with her mother wasn’t very pleasant to recall, but Rosie had no regrets. She hoped that one day—in the distant future!—she and her mother might be able to find some sort of relationship again. Just not the unforgiving business partnership they’d had for the last ten years.
‘So I heard,’ Hawk drawled. ‘The Canadian newspapers have been full of the story these last few days too. How you sacked your mother as your manager and cancelled all your wedding plans,’ he finished admiringly.
Rosie really didn’t want to talk about that. She wanted to move on with her life, not look back. ‘Why did you want to see me, Hawk…?’ she enquired guardedly.
If anything, these last three days away from Hawk had only confirmed what she had already known in Canada: she was in love with him. Deeply, madly, completely. She just had no idea how he felt about her.
But he was here, wasn’t he? He had flown to Britain especially to see her. That had to mean something.
Hawk’s gaze roamed over the beauty of her face. Her hair was loose today, flowing like flame over her shoulders and down her back. And she wasn’t wearing black either, but a soft cashmere dress in the same shade of green as her eyes, her legs long and silky beneath its knee-length, her high-heeled boots the same colour as her dress.
‘I see you’ve been out shopping,’ he told her approvingly.
‘For Christmas presents? Yes.’ She held up the large bag beside her that was full of gaily wrapped parcels. ‘My credit card wasn’t maxed out after all.’ She grinned.
Hawk shook his head. ‘I meant the dress and boots. You look—wonderful,’ he assured her huskily.
A delicate blush coloured her freckle-covered cheeks. ‘The black clothing was another idea of my mother’s—I’ve given it all away to a charity shop.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Hawk, you didn’t answer my question: why did you want to see me?’
She had grown in confidence the last three days, Hawk acknowledged. She seemed in control of her own life now, and obviously enjoying it.
Did he have the right to ask her to give up even a little of that freedom she had only just fought for, and won so determinedly?
He looked down at her hand as it rested in both of his, his thumb moving caressingly over her creamy skin. Just touching her like this, being with her again, made him feel weak at the knees, and he knew if they weren’t in such a public place that he would have taken her in his arms and kissed her by now.
His gaze returned to her face, to find her looking at him anxiously. He reached up to smooth the frown from between her brows before moving his hand to cradle her cheek. ‘You are so beautiful, Rosie,’ he murmured tenderly. ‘So absolutely, perfectly beautiful.’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘I came to England to ask you, beg you if necessary, to give me a chance—to marry me. But—’
‘Yes!’ Rosie spoke quickly, before he could complete his sentence. She didn’t want to hear any buts. From now on there would be no second-bests in her life—no wishing, no dreaming, no negatives at all if she could prevent it.
Which was one of the reasons she was returning to Canada so soon. She wanted to spend Christmas with her father, of course, but she had wanted to see Hawk too—to see if they had any chance of a relationship together.
Though she had never thought that Hawk would come to her like this…!
Hawk became very still, his gaze moving searchingly over her face, lingering on the deep glow of her eyes and her softly parted lips. ‘Yes…?’ he repeated uncertainly.
She nodded. ‘If that was a proposal of marriage, then I accept!’
He shook his head, his gaze unwavering. ‘That wasn’t a proposal of marriage, Rosie,’ he breathed huskily.
Oh, God, had she just made a complete idiot—?
‘This is a proposal of marriage!’ Hawk assured her firmly, even as he moved out of the chair and got down on one knee in front of her, her hand still held tightly in his as he looked up at her. ‘Rosie Harrison, will you marry me?’
She hadn’t made a fool of herself! Hawk really was asking her to marry him!
They were surrounded by happy travellers on their way to spend Christmas with their loved ones, those two children still played happily beside the glowing Christmas tree, the snow was still falling softly outside, and Hawk had just asked her to marry him!
It was almost too magical to be true…!
‘Do you think you could give me an answer soon, Rosie?’ Hawk murmured ruefully when she hadn’t spoken for some time. ‘We’re attracting quite a lot of attention,’ he added self-derisively.
She glanced around them. Sure enough, the other travellers waiting in the lounge were all indulgently watching the drama taking place across the room, and the hostess was openly staring at the two of them too.
Rosie turned back to Hawk. ‘Yes, yes, yes—I’ll marry you!’ she assured him ecstatically.
Hawk grinned triumphantly at the softly called congratulations from the crowd gathering around them, and he moved to take Rosie in his arms and kiss her with all the longing he had felt since she’d left him three days ago.
‘I love you, Rosie Harrison,’ he groaned when he finally came up for air. ‘I had no idea it was possible to miss someone so much until you left Canada and came back to England. Since you left me!’ He rested his forehead on hers, his arms still tightly wrapped about her.
‘I love you too, Hawk,’ Rosie breathed shakily. ‘So very, very much.’
‘Then that’s all that matters,’ he murmured. ‘Loving each other, wanting to be together, is all that will ever matter.’
It was too, Rosie realised. No matter what happened in future, no matter where their individual careers took them—because she was going to play again, wanted to play again!—as long as they loved each other nothing else mattered.
‘As Christmas presents go, this is quite something, Rosie,’ Hawk told her gruffly exactly a year later, their baby daughter, born only a few minutes before, held carefully in his arms.
‘She’s our gift to each other.’ Rosie smiled, gently touching the baby’s hand, hardly able to believe this miracle herself.
It had been a year of smiles and laughter, of loving, of being loved, of juggling two careers and her pregnancy so that their partings weren’t too often. And the birth of their daughter Sophie had only made their happiness all the richer.
‘Donald and Mom and Dad will be along later this morning,’ Hawk assured her as he tenderly placed their red-haired daughter into her arms, before sitting down on the hospital bed beside her. ‘I telephoned Gloria and told her the good news,’ he added with a grin. ‘She sent her congratulations and hopes to see us all the next time we’re in New York.’
Rosie’s relationship with her mother was still fragile, to say the least. Her mother was now working for a PR company in Manhattan and the two women had only met twice in the last year—tense meetings, when they’d found they really had nothing to say to each other.
It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered but the happiness Rosie and Hawk had found together—a happiness that had spread to her father and to Hawk’s family.
‘Shall we try for a son next Christmas?’ Rosie looked up at Hawk glowingly, more in love with her handsome husband than ever, as she knew he was deeply in love with her.
Hawk bent down to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. ‘Glad to oblige, Mrs Hawkley,’ he murmured lovingly.
Mrs Hawkley.
Not Rosemary Harris.
Not Rosie Harrison.
But Rosie Hawkley.
Hawk’s wife.
That was all she ever wanted to be…