had been discovered. That person had nearly killed Alba. The sudden memory dragged him back to the real danger that still threatened Nell and her family.
When she started forward, he took her arm. “Let’s keep to the edge of the light until we have to step into it.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen them lit up like that. I think Angus would have liked it.”
Reid recalled the first time he’d seen the stone arch. At ten he’d been impressed with the structure. It was a tunnel, really—ten feet long, ten high in the center and eight feet wide. He and his brothers had measured it off. It impressed him no less now that it was lit up like a monument. He was even more impressed with the man who’d built it. It had lasted two hundred years, and it would be here for years to come. So would the legend. “Not many men leave behind such a legacy.”
“It’s a real tribute to the power of love,” Nell said.
“That kind of love is rare,” Reid said. “A lot of people want it, but very few achieve it.” He should tell her again that it wasn’t in the cards for them. She had to want the rarified kind of love.
His mother certainly had. And now it seemed she’d found it with A.D., and Nell’s aunt and sisters had found chances at their own happy-ever-afters. A.D. was a good man. So was Daryl. Cam and Duncan were good men. They’d never promise what they didn’t think they could deliver on. But if the stats held true, two out of the four of those couples would be denied what they most desired. That’s what he needed to tell her.
Before he could, she said, “I couldn’t agree more. Even the few who are lucky enough to find true love can have it snatched away and be nearly destroyed by the loss. My father’s a prime example of that. When my mother died, my sisters and I lost him, too. He was so devastated that he hid away in his rooms painting. I was too young to understand at the time, but when I finally did, I decided that true love isn’t worth the risk. Not to mention the drama and the stress. And even with the legend, there are no guarantees.”
Hadn’t he always felt the same way? Why did it bother him that she’d simply voiced his own assessment? Or perhaps he was just annoyed by the impossibility of arguing with someone who shared his opinion.
Nell took a deep breath and told herself to shut up. She’d made her point, and she was starting to babble. The walk through the garden had taken its toll on her concentration. She’d lied about loving the scent of the roses and the freesias. She’d barely noticed them compared to Reid. He smelled of soap: simple, basic. Wonderful. When he’d accidentally brushed up against her arm, she’d lost her train of thought completely.
Not good.
She needed to keep her head as clear as one of her heroines if she was going to achieve all her goals tonight. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she fingered the two slips of pink paper that had been burning a hole there all evening. The action helped her refocus.
They reached the far end of the clearing where the distance to the opening of the stone arch was only about twenty-five yards away. She needed to get to the fantasy box. “My sisters and I used to sneak out here late at night when we thought Aunt Vi was asleep. The instant we stepped out of the gardens, we always used to race for the stones.” She flicked him a look. “Bet I can beat you.” She took off.
The element of surprise should have guaranteed her a victory. But Reid was fast, his reflexes honed to perfection. He clamped a hand on her arm within the first ten yards, and they ended the race in a tie. When they finally stood beneath the arch, she was breathing hard. He wasn’t.
“You’ve got to remember to let me do my bodyguarding thing.” His hand was still wrapped around her arm, but his grip was no longer as firm. So there was no reason at all for her to feel the pressure of each one of his fingers. Even less reason for her knees to turn to water.
Then she made the mistake of looking at him. He’d turned to scan the clearing, and the memory of him on their parent’s wedding day superimposed itself over what she was seeing now. He’d been standing in profile that day, too. His hair had been longer then and more tousled. She’d wanted so much to touch it. To touch him. The urge had been so acute that if the bridal couple hadn’t separated her from him, she was sure she would have.
Nothing separated them right now. They were alone. She could do exactly what she’d wanted to do that afternoon seven years ago, what she’d started to do in the hospital parking lot. All she had to do was lift her hand. But when she pulled it out of her pocket, she was holding the two slips of pink paper, and her grip on reality and her goals came back into focus. First things first.
“Nell...”
She met his eyes, and for a moment she wavered. It would be so easy to step into his arms and kiss him again. So easy to just lose herself in that whirlwind of excitement that was waiting for her. She certainly wanted to. But if she did, they’d do more than kiss. Then he’d have second thoughts again, just as he had in the car. Worse still, he’d regret it. That was the kind of man she was dealing with. A man who lived by a very strict code. A man who didn’t want to hurt her. A protector.
She was pretty sure that the fantasy she’d begun all those years ago was the perfect solution. But first she had to set up the story line.
“I have to tell you about these pink slips and the fantasy box,” she said. “From the time we were little, my sisters and I used to sneak out here, write down our goals and dreams and put them into this metal box.” Turning, she dropped to her knees and ran her hand along the base of the arch. “I’ll show you.”
Reid stayed right where he was, hoping to get a grip on his resolve. And his sanity. A moment ago, he’d nearly lost both. Dragging his eyes away from Nell, he glanced around the stone arch.
It would be dangerous and reckless to drag her into the shadows in the garden and make love to her. But to do the same thing beneath the arch that Angus MacPherson had built for his true love? That was just crazy.
Saved by two pieces of folded pink paper. And a box of fantasies?
Curious, he squatted down and tried to get a better look at what she was doing. “Can I help?”
Her first response was a grunt, followed by, “I think I’ve got it.”
Stone scraped against stone. Then Nell turned, sat on her heels and set a small metal box on the stone floor. When she opened it, Reid saw that it was divided in three sections with folded sheets of colored paper in each one.
“It was Adair who thought of it.” Nell explained her sister’s plan. “To make it even more adventurous, we would all meet in Piper’s room and then climb down from her balcony. Hers was closest to the ground.”
As he listened, Reid was just as fascinated by the story as he was by the play of shadows and muted light on her face. She had a gift with words that drew vivid pictures of the three sisters climbing down the balcony, then racing through the gardens to bury their deepest and most heartfelt desires in the stones. He’d been touched when she’d told him that the box had originally been their mother’s jewelry box. Amused when he’d learned that they’d each used a different color of paper to guard their privacy and that her color had turned out to be pink.
“Some of my goals were pretty frivolous,” she admitted with a wry smile. “One of my early ones was to just be taller than my sisters.”
“When did you achieve it?” Reid asked.
“Six
