"Just like in the movie."
"No way," she protested with a firm shake of her head.
"What could be more romantic?”he asked.“You, me, and the city that never sleeps lit up at our feet.We can meet at the top and then go to a late dinner."
"You're forgetting what happened in the movie.Deborah Kerr never made it, remember?"
"Just don't look up.Keep your eyes in front of you and you'll be fine."
"I don’t know,” Claire said.“I'm kind of superstitious."
Jay stepped closer, their bodies now touching."Nothing's going to happen.Now kiss me, and say you’ll help me live out myAffair to Rememberfantasy."
He gently traced her lips with his thumb.One word and she’d ditch her father and follow him back to his apartment.Heck, she’d follow him anywhere.No man had ever captured her this way.A moment later his lips were on hers.It didn't matter how he kissed her—light and playful or deep and passionate—it always left her with one thought:How did I ever survive without this man in my life?
"I'm crazy about you, Jay Avery," Claire said.
He didn't say anything but kissed her once more.A kiss that spoke volumes.His fingers lingered in her hair before he pulled away and smiled.
"That's because you're falling hard for me, and you know that if I don't get in this car right now?—"
"You know, you don't have to leave.It's not as fancy as your James Bond sofa but there's plenty of room on my couch," she suggested.
"What about your father?"he asked, one eyebrow cocked.
"Let him get his own couch," she teased.
Claire quietly closed the door of her flat.She turned to find her father standing behind her wearing a larger than usual grin.
“That's some man, Ms.Jordan," he said.
Claire smiled back."Yes, he is."
"By the look of things, I bet you won't be aMs.for long."
"Oh, Dad, seriously… we're taking things very slowly."
"You may be, but he's definitely not."
Claire folded her arms."What?He confided in you secretly?When Molly and I excused ourselves right before dessert?"
"The man doesn't have to say a word.I spent years in military intelligence.If anything, my ability to read people is matched only by my appreciation of fine distilled spirits."
"You're that good, huh?"
"Zen and the art of observation."He draped a loving arm around her shoulder."I'm a master."
"And just what exactly were these Zen-induced observations?"She followed him into her bedroom where they sat down together on her bed.
"It's all there, my dear.Every time he looked at you."Harry sighed."The man is captivated.Completely, totally, utterly captivated."
"Maybe you just see what you want to see,” Claire said.“Or maybe you were looking at him through vodka-colored glasses."
"I know what a man in love looks like.I know because I saw one in the mirror every morning for years."
Claire let silence sit between them for a moment.Harry’s gaze drifted over her shoulder, as if her mother’s memory had a physical weight in the room.Then he cleared his throat, forcing the moment back into motion.“Mom would have loved to have been out at the estate this week with us.”
Claire reached and gave his hand a tender squeeze.“She was with us.She’s always with us.”
