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“We’ll get married, of course,” he said, “but we’ll have to put on a courtship show for the press. Three months should be sufficient. We’ll be seen getting coffee at Starbucks, walking hand-in-hand in the park, an evening out to a fancy dinner. I’ll bring you as my guest to an official and horrendously boring event. You’ll wear an outrageously expensive dress that will immediately fly off the shelves.
“I’ll announce my candidacy then, maybe a couple of weeks later, announce our engagement. That will send a lot of goodwill our way. Everyone loves a fancy wedding. You’ll move in when we get back, of course, though we’ll keep it on the down low. And you’ll definitely need to quit your job. Both of them. The media would go nuts. We’ll have to talk to your parents, of course.”
Anne’s hand had stilled about halfway through his epic monologue. He didn’t seem to notice, continuing musing about where and when it would be most feasible to hold the wedding ceremony.
“…and the reception could be held at the Willard. Congress will be in session, so it’ll have quite the attendees. But I’m thinking we could also hold a less formal and more intimate reception later on my property in Martha’s Vineyard—”
“Hold on,” Anne interrupted, sitting up. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Blane’s gaze was quizzical. “Kidding? Of course not.”
Anne’s anger and incredulousness was reaching levels she couldn’t be sure her blood pressure could handle.
“You haven’t evenaskedme to marry you, and you’re planning our life as though I’m a box to be checked.” And he had made no mention of love, which she wasn’t about to bring up. She had her pride.
“Of course, I’ll ask you,” he said. “I’m thinking out loud.” Exasperation lit his features. “I’m a politician, Anne. I’m going to be president, God willing. All these things have to be carefully managed.”
She suddenly felt smothered, as though she couldn’t breathe. This was the first time she’d reallythoughtabout it. What it would be like to be married to a politician. A senator. Apresident. Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around it. It had never been a position she’d aspired to.
The media. The paparazzi. Life in a fishbowl underneath a microscope. No privacy. They’d never be alone. Blane would have very little time for her. For them. They’d lose everything to his career.
Her chest was too tight.
Abruptly, she stood, grabbed a blanket at the end of the bed and wrapped it around her body. She rushed out of the bedroom. Her ankle hurt but held her weight.
There was nowhere to go, but she needed air. She yanked open the front door.
The blistering cold hit her. She closed her eyes and just breathed the crisp, clean air. Gradually, her breaths deepened and came easier. She became aware of Blane behind her. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t touch her. He was just there. A presence that exuded strength.
“I don’t know if I could do it,” she whispered. She turned and looked up at him. He’d put on jeans but nothing else and hadn’t bothered fastening them. “I just don’t know,” she repeated.
A flash of pain crossed his face and was quickly gone, his features flattening into the familiar politician’s mask.
“I can’t give up who I am,” he said, his voice a rasp. “But I’ll protect you. I’ll defend you. If you don’t want the limelight, you can stay in the shadows.” His gaze drifted across her face. “I need you. And I don’t say those words very often. To anyone.”
There was a heaviness in Anne’s chest, and she was almost lightheaded. She felt like she was on the edge of something. That this was a before and after moment, and there would be no second chances or going back.
She thought of what it would be like to not be with Blane and a sharp pain hit her stomach. They’d been lucky enough to find each other. Was she really going to give that up because she was…afraid?
“Will you marry me?” Blane asked. “Be my wife, Anne. Make a life and family with me.”
Anne suddenly felt a huge smile break across her face and her eyes welled again.
“I’d never imagined my marriage proposal would be in the cold of Maine while wrapped in nothing but a blanket,” she said with a laugh.
Blane spread his arms. “All this luxury, just for you.”
Anne laughed through her tears. “It’s perfect.”
Blane’s arms dropped. “Is that a yes?” He watched her carefully and Anne had the thought that if she said no, she might break him.
“Yes,” she said simply.
Blane’s face lit up with a smile that reached his eyes. He pulled her to him in a hug that nearly crushed her. Then she was scooped up in his arms and carried inside.
Chapter Twelve
They made love until Anne plead exhaustion. Blane spooned her and she was asleep within seconds.
