His Secretary's Surprise Fiance

When he reached into his breast pocket again, her heart about stopped. He pulled out a ring box.

Her heartbeat stuttered. Her gaze flew back to his.

“Adelaide, these two weeks have shown me how perfect we are together.” He opened the box to reveal a stunningly rare blue garnet set in...of all things...a tiny spoon ring design that replicated the spoon bracelet he’d given her all those years ago when he’d had to forge a gift for her with his own hands.

“Dempsey?” Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch it, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing. What she was hearing.

“It’s not meant to replace your engagement ring. But I wanted to give you something special.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head, overwhelmed by the generosity of the gift.

“We’re best friends. We’re even better lovers. And we’re stronger together.” He tugged the ring from the velvet backing for her and slid the box into his pocket. “This ring is my way of asking you to make our engagement a real one. Will you marry me?”

Her emotions tumbled over each other: hope, joy, love and— Wait. Had he even mentioned that part? Of course he must have. She just hadn’t heard it in the same way she’d missed the pilot’s preliftoff speech because she’d been marveling at how perfect a date this was. She hadn’t been paying attention.

Her hands hovered beside the ring.

“Did you...?” She felt embarrassed. Flustered. She should leap into his arms and say yes. Any other woman would. But Adelaide had waited most of her life to hear those words and she didn’t want to miss any of it. “I’m sorry. I was so mesmerized by the ring and the setting and—” She gestured to the balloon above them and the scenery below. “It’s all so overwhelming. But are you saying you want to get married? For real?” Happy tears pooled in her eyes already. “I love you so much.”

And then she did fling herself into his arms, tears spilling onto the beautiful silk collar of his tuxedo. But she was just so happy.

Only...he still hadn’t said he loved her. Her declaration of love hung suspended like a balloon between them. In fact, Dempsey patted her back awkwardly now, as if that was his reply.

She hadn’t missed the words in his proposal, she realized with a heart sinking like lead. He simply hadn’t said them. She knew, even before she edged back and saw the expression on his face. Not bewildered, exactly. More...unsure.

It wasn’t an expression she’d seen on his face in many years. Her Reynaud fiancé was used to getting what he wanted, and while he might want Adelaide for a bride, it wasn’t for the same reason that she would have liked to be his wife.

“Adelaide. Think about the future we can have together. All the things we can achieve.” He must have seen her expression shifting from joy to whatever it was she was feeling now.

Deflation.

“Marriage isn’t about being a team or working well together.” She wrapped a hand around one of the ropes tying the basket to the balloon, needing something to steady her without the solid strength of Dempsey Reynaud beside her.

“There are far more reasons than that.”

“There’s only one reason that I would marry. Just one.” She stared out at the world coming closer to them now. Dempsey must have signaled Jim to take them back down.

Their date was over.

“The ring is one of a kind, Adelaide. Like you.” His words reminded her of all she was giving up. All she would be turning her back on if she refused him now.

But she’d waited too long for love to accept half measures now. She owed herself better.

“We both deserve to be loved,” she told him softly, not able to meet his gaze and feel the raw connection that was still mostly one-sided. “You’re my friend, Dempsey. And I want that for you as much as I want it for me.”

When the balloon touched down, it jarred her. Sent her tumbling into his arms before the basket righted itself.

She didn’t linger there, though.

Her fairy tale had come to an end.

Twelve

Three days later, back home at the Hurricanes’ training facility, Dempsey envied the guys on the practice field. After the knife in the gut that had been Adelaide’s rejection, he would trade his job for the chance to pull on shoulder pads and hit the living hell out of a practice dummy. Or to pound out the frustration through his feet with wind sprints—one set after another.