ambitious, stunning woman—the kind who could take on her family’s expectations and crush them without fear, forge her own path in life. And while he didn’t share her desire to turn her back on money, he respected her ability to make her own way, to be exactly who she wanted to be.
She was perfection, but still, he didn’t pursue her. Because he wasn’t ready, not in his life. He had the burden of a legacy on his shoulders, his father passing and leaving the centuries-old Archibald estate to him; and he had his career to develop, determined to make it in law on his own merit, not allow the many zeroes in his bank account to open any doors for him. He was too busy to devote any real time to a relationship, and Maggie Emerson deserved all the time in the world.
But then things changed. His life settled; he established himself in law. His family and his legacy continued ticking along and expanding like they always would, and he found himself with time to enjoy some finer things in life.
He captured her attention at the Emersons’ beach party, and a few weeks later he asked her to dinner. He would not try to kiss her until the third date, he ordered himself, because he wasn’t blind to his reputation—yes, he’d spent some years playing the field, living up to his playboy status. And yes, perhaps he was known for his philandering ways. But Maggie was no one-night stand, no bit of fun on the side. She was Maggie Emerson, and he would show her that he was serious.
She wasn’t impressed by his wealth, of course, by the expensive restaurant or the luxury cars he drove. But she smiled at the sight of him, and her eyes glittered as they spoke over candlelit dinner, and maybe there was a chance she was impressed by him , at least. That perhaps she saw through all the public bullshit and found the man beneath.
He didn’t kiss her on date number one, and he didn’t plan to on date number two, either. Although there was something magical in the air on that second date, something that spoke of a connection, a pull between them.
He got called away before the second course, had no other choice, and he’d promised to call her the next day, see her very soon. He had no intention of leaving it too long before he could set eyes on that lovely face again.
She’d seemed fine about it, but hindsight was another story. He’d left her a voicemail the next day, and after spending the following evening at a charity event with his friend Trixie Lane, he’d tried calling her again. Nothing. For days, she ignored his calls, until eventually he grew worried enough to pay her a visit, desperately needing to see her in person and find out if they were still on the same page.
Only when he pulled up in her street, she wasn’t alone. She was leaving her apartment building with another man—a man, Declan later discovered, who was a doctor at Maggie’s hospital.
The doctor took her hand as they passed, and it wasn’t until that moment that Declan realized quite how intensely he had developed feelings through these past few years of admiring Maggie Emerson from afar.
He spent that night with a bottle of scotch and a whole lot of bitterness. All that time he’d been worried about his own reputation as a playboy, and all the while it would be Maggie who was more inclined to play the field. And it wasn’t as if he could even be angry at her. They’d had two dates—one of which ended early. She didn’t owe him a thing.
And yet…it stung.
Seeing her today at this wedding only cemented to him how much he needed her in his life, how he wanted to have a thousand conversations with her, look at her, touch her . How he wanted her, now more than ever. She was such a beautiful sight, such a radiant presence, that the moment he set eyes on her again, he didn’t ever want to look away.
And now he was going to kiss her. Finally .
But first he had to be sure. Once and for all, he had to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted
Jerry B. Jenkins, Chris Fabry