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In a daze, Margot sat on the upholstered bench in the middle of the room and let out a sigh. Life certainly had an interesting way of turning out. She’d agreed to do that very first painting to prove that she was living life on her own terms and had spent six more learning about who she was. It had only taken her adolescent son to put things into perspective.
Heart in her eyes, Margot stared up at the last painting of the woman lying in that bed. Any adult with a brain would recognize the state of pure happiness…the delicious laxness of the limbs, the languidness of the pose, the rumpled state of the bed. The woman in question was indisputably present in that moment.
Thriving in her own imperfect skin.
And Margot knew exactly who that hand was reaching for. She felt her own fingers curl as though wrapping around an imagined palm. Percy wasn’t wrong. Love was worth the fight…even at the cost of one’s reputation and one’s pride. She just had to be brave.
With a soft laugh, she turned and froze at the woman propped against the doorjamb. She was dressed in a pair of trousers and tails, her coat open at the front with a gorgeous silvery blue waistcoat that was designed like a corset on bold display. Hands thrust into her pockets, she looked confident, powerful, and too desirable for words.
Ara.
“Nice waistcoat,” Margot said.
“It reminded me of your eyes.”
Margot’s lashes fluttered at the sound of that sweet, lush voice that wrought havoc on her senses. By God, she was stunning, all lean height, unruly rust-brown curls, and huge amber eyes. She’d lost weight, Margot noticed, and purple shadows congregated beneath her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful woman Margot had ever seen.
This was it. This was her time. Suddenly, Margot’s chest felt ten sizes too small. She smiled, her lips wobbling as if they could barely do justice to the emotions that brewed within her veins. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
“I have,” Ara said. “Do you like them?”
“They’re extraordinary.” You’re extraordinary.
Ara shrugged. “They’re us.”
They stared at each other, only a handful of feet separating them, and yet that paltry distance felt like an ocean. Margot rolled her lower lip between her teeth and Ara’s eyes flared, the sunbursts of her irises going dark.
“Were you on your way out?” Ara asked, and Margot exhaled. That wasn’t what Ara meant. She was really asking if Margot meant to stay, if she wanted to stay.
“No,” she whispered. “I was waiting for you.”
“Good.”
With one foot, Ara kicked the door to the room closed, the latch clicking shut and dousing them in darkness but for the small lamps showcasing each wall. Margot didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly, they were in each other’s arms, a tangle of limbs and lips glued together as they devoured each other. It felt oddly poetic—with the beginning of their tumultuous story surrounding them, but she didn’t care. Ara was in her arms.
Ara was in her arms.
She reared back, panting, lips bruised and soul bright. “I missed you,” she said.
“I missed you, too.” Ara laughed, eyes glancing around. “As you can tell from the rather rough state of my heart.”
Margot’s fingers slipped into the curls at Ara’s nape, her thumbs grazing the hollows of those lean cheeks and the sensuous curve of her upturned mouth. “I thought what I wrote in that letter was true, that it couldn’t work, but I realized only later that I was afraid. I was too much of a coward to try to make it work because of what I stood to lose.” She exhaled and met that dazzling golden gaze that held so much love and warmth, she almost stumbled. “But what I stand to lose is nothing compared to losing you.”
“What about your reputation?” Ara whispered. “The life you’ve built? Percy?”
“Percy told me to pluck up, in much nicer words.” Margot laughed and aligned her mouth with Ara’s, kissing each impossibly soft corner before replying. “The only life I’m interested in is one with you. I’m falling in love with you, Ara.”
Ara grinned, that beloved smile so radiant that stars glowed in her eyes. “Say that again.”
Margot tugged on a curl with affection. “You’re supposed to say it back, you know.”
“Oh, I intend to,” Ara teased, her palms sliding around to Margot’s hips. “In fact, if I have my way, in about five minutes flat, I’ll be screaming my devotion to the high heavens from my knees.”
Her core clenched at the dark promise in those words. “Is that so?”
Ara winked, that stare now full of wickedness. “Ever fucked in a gallery, love?”
“Ara!”
