26 Hours in Paris (23 page)

M
arko woke and reached for Kat. She wasn't in bed, but the delicious smell of bacon drifting up from the kitchen announced her location. He pulled on a pair of jeans and went to find her.

There she was, standing by the sink, wearing a pair of his boxer shorts, dark dress socks, and a well-worn sweater. Grinning, he lowered himself onto a bar stool and shook his head. He cleared his throat to let her know he was there. She turned and gave him a big smile, immediately popping a small piece of crispy bacon between his lips.

“You're so beautiful in the morning,” he said, between chewing and pulling her into his arms for a kiss. “The best-looking breakfast cook I've ever seen.” He didn't bother to hide his appreciation as his gaze traveled down, then up, her body. “And to think, you're all mine.”

“All yours,” she agreed, returning his kiss and folding her body into his lap. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” he replied, searching for a nonexistent clock. “What time is it?”

“It's almost noon.” A conspiratorial smile bloomed on her face, and she glanced at the phones on the counter. “Your papa called the house around nine o'clock. Good thing I had brought the handset downstairs with me to call Antoine for breakfast fixings, because you slept right through that ring. You needed your sleep. It was your papa who suggested I also find your cell phone and bring that down here, too.”

“What did Papa say?” Marko had slept all morning. Irresponsible. What if he was needed at the hospital? How could he let his guard down like that? “How is Martine?”

“She's doing well. She spoke with her mom and dad this morning for fifteen minutes, without needing a break. Cecile fed her a few spoonfuls of custard. Antoine said he could see her ‘pretty eyes' today.” Kat hooked her fingers into quotation signs in the air and raised her finely shaped brows in amusement. “Your papa said she's sleeping now. We spoke ten minutes ago.”

Relieved, he squeezed Kat's waist and placed a kiss on her neck. He'd slept and the world hadn't gone to pieces. As a matter of fact, the world was looking and smelling pretty good. He wanted this forever. Every morning waking up to her in his life, hopefully wearing his clothes, her cheeks wonderfully pink from a night of lovemaking, and sweet words from her lips.

“Make it official,
bella
,” he said, looking into her eyes.

She traced his jaw and kissed his lips. “Make what official?”

“Marry me,” he said, covering her hand with his and bringing it to his heart. “Be mine and make me yours, officially.”

Her breath caught and her cheeks flushed. “Where will we live? How are we going to make it work?”

“Together. We'll make it work together,” he insisted. “We'll figure out the logistics later. We could live in New York or we could live here. I don't care where or how, as long as we're together. Marry me,
bella
.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.” She crushed her lips to his and cried in delight.

* * *

Kat's heart overflowed with love, more love than she'd known existed.

He raised her hand to his mouth, and placed a kiss in the center. “At last. I keep you forever.”

“You're stuck with me,” she said, laughter bubbling in her voice. “I'm yours and you're mine. We'll figure the rest out together.”

“I can't wait,” he breathed, and claimed her mouth.

He was carrying her to bed when the phone rang. He stopped midstride and looked at her.

“Go get it,” she said, secretly hoping it was her mom. “We have forever.”

He placed her on her feet and backtracked to the kitchen. Approaching the counter, he called to her to come back. “It's your phone, sweetheart. Paul's calling.”

“Pick it up,” she said, skipping across the living room.

By the time Kat joined him, he had given Paul a quick synopsis and had already told him that his cousin was out of danger. He held the phone away from his ear, so she could she hear Paul's explanation about how he had searched Paris accident reports and used news connections to learn of what had happened. “Happy to hear she's awake and doing better, Marko. I'm sorry we weren't there for you. We didn't know, or we would have come back with Kat.”

“I appreciate it,” Marko replied. “Thank you so much. We were about to leave for the hospital in a few minutes, but became a little sidetracked. We have more good—”

Kat placed a finger across his lips, guessing that he was going to share the news of their engagement.
Moms and dad, first
, she mouthed silently.

“Hold on, Paul. Here's Kat. She's pining for the phone.” Marko handed her the phone, and snaked his arms around her waist. She settled against him, feeling complete.

“Hello?”

“You're still pining for me, Kittykat?”

“Always, Paul, always,” she said, shimmying seductively up Marko's body and tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape. “I heard Marko fill you in on Martine's condition. Isn't it wonderful that she woke up and is making remarkable strides?”

“Yes, it is.” Paul paused, a note of hesitation in his breathing. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “Kathryn, are you doing okay? Do you need me to come over?”

“No. I'm fine, my friend,” she said in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

Paul cared. When he'd looked into the accident reports, he had understood the similarities between her dad's accident and Martine's. Her friend had seen what she'd gone through and who she'd become afterward. Paul was rightfully concerned. Most importantly, he really cared. She was blessed to have such good friends.

“Are you sure, Kittykat? Justin and I can take the afternoon flight and be there by morning. We know this is hard for you.”

“She's stronger than we think,” Marko interjected. “Kat has been my rock since she walked into the hospital. She's good, Paul. She really is.”

Like a beautiful rose, Kat's confidence bloomed in her chest. Marko had referred to her as his rock. He trusted her. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

“That's my job,” Paul said, his relief audible. “And now that we've established that our Kathryn is okay and that you're together, do you want some more good news?”

Perplexed, Kat and Marko looked at each other. A peculiar angst twisted in her stomach and she nervously closed her fingers on Marko's arm.

“Sure. Go on,” Marko said.

“We're listening,” Kat added.

“The Valentine's feature is yours, Kittykat. Good job. You've got your byline.”

Kat squealed with glee. She jumped in the air and threw her hands over her head. Dancing around the room, she swung her arms in the air and tossed her hair around like a mad woman.

Marko laughed. “She's dancing,” he explained to Paul. “She's real happy.”

“And you, my friend, are one lucky bastard.”

“I know it,” Marko agreed, and let their friend go. He wrapped his arms around the waist of the still-dancing Kat and twirled her off her feet. “Congratulations,
bella.
I knew you could do it. You could do anything you set your mind to.”

She covered her face with her hands and basked in pure bliss.

* * *

Passing on breakfast, they celebrated the happy day by making love in the shower—to save time. Dressed and ready to share their news with the family, they walked hand in hand downstairs and into Antoine's for croissants. He made them coffees, as well, and then handed her a little box with almond cookies for the family.

Jean-Luc stood at the curb. “Monsieur Renard.” He tipped his hat. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Taylor.”

“Seriously, Jean-Luc?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toe, fixing him with a steely look. “I thought we settled this last time.”

The driver fidgeted and glanced at Marko, whose smirk was easy to notice. He was more than enjoying her display of annoyance. Marko cocked his head and raised his hands in surrender.

Jean-Luc stepped forward and wrapped his arms around a conquering Kat. “
Bonjour, Kathryn
.”

“Better,” she said, going up on her toes and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

Once in the car, she folded her hands in her lap and turned to Marko. “Do you think your parents will approve?”

“Of us?” He nodded emphatically. “Absolutely. They already love you.” Then he covered her hand with his. “They won't be happy about me going to New York, but they'll get used to it. They'll just need to make more trips across the Atlantic.”

“Marko, you're not coming to New York,” she said, confused by his assumption. She hadn't asked him to move to New York. He had responsibilities and duties only he could see to, and she knew it. “It isn't logical.”

He tightened his hold on her hand, but didn't say a word.

“I spoke with your papa three times this morning. Once, when he told me to get your cell phone out of the bedroom and let you sleep. The second time about everything Martine needs to go through during recovery.” She looked past the window and tried to hide her sadness. “And the last time was right before you came downstairs.”

“I don't get it. Papa speaks to you for hours, but I can't even get reception in the hospital.”

“He wasn't at the hospital,” Kat said. “He called when he stepped out to clear his head.”
And to share the burden with someone he didn't need to be strong for
, she thought. Marko and his dad had so much in common. They took care of the family. Made the decisions. Shouldered the responsibilities.

“For the long conversation, he was at the café across the street.”

“It figures,” Marko grumbled. “I didn't know about the café until two nights ago. Well, at least he managed to find a way to speak with you.”

She wasn't sure it was her place to share what his papa had told her, but Marko needed to know. He couldn't be surprised with something so important. Worrying her lower lip, she hoped his father hadn't discussed the family's situation in confidence.

“Marko, I know it's difficult to think of what lies ahead for your cousin, but we can't leave. With Martine facing such a long recovery, they need you. Your papa is planning on asking you to take the reigns at the vineyard.” She placed her free hand over his, and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “At least for the time being, we need to stay between Paris and Provence. I'll speak with Paul about making accommodations for an overseas writer. With the right slant, I can write from anywhere. For now, you need to be here. We need to be here.”

“You said we. We.” He curved his palm at her nape and kissed her. “I love you, Kathryn Taylor. I love you so much.”

* * *

With the bakery box hanging from one hand and Marko swinging the other, Kat walked into the arms of his
maman
for a consuming hug and a flurry of kisses. “
Bonjour, mes chers. Comment allez-vous
?

“We are well,” Marko answered, swooping in and placing more kisses on his mother's cheeks. “How is our girl?”

“Beautiful.” The matriarch's face beamed with delight and her eyes twinkled with joy. “Marceau and Maynard have seen to all the details, and the doctor is preparing Martine to be moved to a new room—one where her brothers will be allowed to visit.”

“
Pardon
,” Marko said, giving his mother another kiss and striding toward his father and uncle, creating a tight testosterone huddle as they discussed the new development.

“You are glowing,
ma chère.
” Angelique took Kat's hand and pulled her toward the corner of the waiting room. “You have good news to share?”

Unaccustomed to the keen observation and forwardness, Kat inhaled sharply. She and Marko had discussed how they were going to announce their news, and it wasn't at the hospital. With her mom on FaceTime, they intended to tell all three parents—four, including Ralph—at the same time. Heat infused her cheeks and she nodded, incapable of dismissing the woman. “We do. Good things have been happening all day.”

“
Oui?
” Angelique held Kat's hands in her lap and leaned forward. “Of course. These things happen in threes. I am listening,
ma chère.
”

Kat giggled and rubbed Angelique's hand. “Well, there is much to tell. Marko would like to visit with Martine, and then perhaps you and his papa will join us across the street for the news.”

“
Bien
. I will not ruin the surprise for Marcel
.
” She pinched her thumb and finger at her lips, twisted them, and threw away the symbolic key.

“I can't . . . well, actually, I can, just a little,” Kat whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to the other woman. “Do you remember the research that brought me to Paris?”

“
Oui, oui
,” Angelique said, rolling her hand for Kat to continue. “It was about finding love in Paris.”

“Well, my boss called and informed us the piece will be published in the Valentine's Day edition of the magazine.” Confident the news would satisfy Angelique in the interim, Kat braced for the onslaught of congratulations. They didn't come.

“I expected that, Kathryn. That is very nice. Now, tell me the real news,” Angelique prompted. “How did my son propose? Where?”

Stunned, Kat withdrew her hands, sat pin straight, and glanced nervously at Marko. Her gaze must have burned a hole in his back, because he glanced at her and immediately came to her side.