Yes, Kimmie thought as she strode out. This wouldn’t be a terrifying snooty event like her first exhibition, but an event full of warmth and love, where wonderful, genuine people would surround her. She didn’t have to dress up in stiff, awkward clothes and try to be someone else. She could be Kimmie and relax.
* * *
London was vast and, even with the meagre clues he had to follow, it wasn’t easy to find a definite lead. But when he had almost given up for the day, and was heading home to his town house behind Harrods, he saw a flyer in a small art shop window.
He’d found her!
The shock of it had been like a punch to his solar plexus. He’d been flying ever since. But he wouldn’t rush this. He had to get it right or she’d no doubt find some way to disappear again. Stubborn, proud and independent, Kimmie belonged to no one, and was all the more desirable for that.
The thought that after all this time he would be seeing her tomorrow had made for a sleepless night, and the next day had been spent pacing his office, refusing all calls. Eventually, he deemed it time to go home, shower and change into something more relaxed...more Kimmie, more appropriate for a sunny, upbeat exhibition in a community hall.
Her choice of venue made him smile. It was so Kimmie, he reflected as he parked the shave in favour of leaving a few minutes earlier than he’d planned. She’d probably been turned down by all the regular galleries, and had marched on undaunted. She could always be relied upon to do the unexpected. Wasn’t that the essence of her charm?
* * *
Unbelievable. The line of people waiting patiently for Kimmie’s exhibition to open stretched down the road as far as she could see through the front window of the community hall, and there were quite a few faces she recognised from her first exhibition. What meant even more was the fact that it wasn’t just a gathering of photographers and celebrities and assorted glitterati jostling on the pavement waiting for the doors to open, but what seemed to Kimmie to be the entire neighbourhood turning out to support her.
‘This is amazing,’ she exclaimed, turning to Mandy. ‘I just can’t believe it—I can’t tell you how much it means to me. How did you get people to come?’
‘You got them to come,’ Mandy said as they peered through the window together. ‘They’re here for you, Kimmie, and for your art. You’ve done so much for us, working late into the night to redecorate and brighten up this centre, and nothing goes unnoticed here.’
When they opened the doors the big hall was full to capacity right away. What amazed Kimmie even more was the fact that the sticky red dots Mandy was putting on frames to show that a picture was sold quickly covered most of the exhibition. Soon there wouldn’t be anything left to buy...except for the huge canvases of Kris, which as yet hadn’t sold.
No! They had sold too, she noticed on her next inspection. Both the portrait of Kris in profile and the initial sketch she’d made, as well as the huge nude of him, had red dots in the corner of each frame.
Insanely, she now felt a pang of jealousy. Who was going to hang naked Kris on their wall? She didn’t want to part with him and would just have to explain to the prospective purchaser that there’d been a mistake and that certain canvases weren’t for sale.
Who’d agreed the price, anyway? she wondered as she frowned and stroked her bump. These were the only two paintings without prices attached, and they were both of Kris. She couldn’t explain why that had happened... Well, she could—she had never really wanted to sell the images of Kris in the first place.
Turning, she searched the room for Mandy, hoping her fairy godmother would be able to tell her who had put in the offer to buy them, and how much they’d paid. She’d have to refund it, of course, but it couldn’t be helped. Plenty of other paintings had sold, more than enough to see her through financially, if she was really careful, for the whole of next year.
* * *
Nothing could have prepared him for seeing Kimmie again. The shock of realising she was pregnant took even longer to process. His baby? Of course it was his baby. Furious with himself for even harbouring doubt for a moment, he drank her in like a man finding water in the desert. Even beneath her shapeless dungarees, which she wore with one strap hanging down and the top half askew and paint-streaked, it was obvious she was quite a few months pregnant. Pregnant and proud.
The scale of the hall made her appear smaller and more fragile than he remembered, but that was deceptive. Physically, Kimmie might be vulnerable, but her spirit was pure tempered steel. From her tousled purple-streaked hair cascading way past her waist to the tip of her trainers-clad feet she was everything he remembered, and now so much more.
She was staring up at his portrait and appeared deep in thought. It was a kick in the teeth to see himself through Kimmie’s eyes in that first sketch she’d ever made of him, now a life-size painting. He appeared so harsh and unforgiving, with his jaw set and his eyes fierce, his mouth firmed in an intolerant line. There was no humour or tenderness to be seen. Was that what she actually thought of him?
A great well of feeling opened up inside him as she stroked her bump. The unconscious gesture touched him somewhere deep, somewhere he didn’t even know he had. Was she introducing their child to its father, or making a vow to keep them apart?
He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her, or how much seeing her again would affect him. Both elated and stunned now he knew she was pregnant, he wasn’t sure of the reception he’d receive. Kimmie had gone to ground for reasons he believed had nothing to do with him or the pregnancy. His best guess was she just wanted to get on with her life. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she think any more of him than her ex-fiancé? He’d given her no reason to feel reassured. Business had always come first for him, and he’d been away from her for so much longer than he’d ever intended, though once he was back in London he’d launched a futile search for her right away.
Angry with himself for even wasting a moment, it was as if every emotion he’d suppressed for years came flooding back all at once. Discovering they were going to have a child together had rocked his foundations. The thought of becoming a father filled him with fire and love, and an overwhelming need to provide and protect. He had to do better than his parents. He must. He would.
* * *
‘Kimmie...’
She turned slowly as if she needed a moment to accept that she really was hearing his voice.
‘Kris?’ she whispered, staring up at him in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Fulfilling my promise to you,’ he said with a shrug, when what he felt like doing was dragging her into his arms and kissing her hard with sheer relief, and what he felt like saying was, Did you imagine I could stay away?
She took him in, from the top of his wild, uncombed hair, to the abundance of stubble on his face, and on to his black winter boots, heavy jacket and jeans. Once he’d discovered Kimmie’s whereabouts, he’d barely drawn a level breath. It had been hard enough waiting until her exhibition opened without wasting time on thinking how he looked. Like a vagabond, he guessed, remembering how she’d loved to rub herself against his stubble.
A faint pink flush came to her cheeks as she admitted, ‘I didn’t think you’d bother.’
‘I’ve been searching for you. You’ve become quite elusive.’
She didn’t deny it and, after a few tense seconds, she caressed her stomach and said, ‘As you can see, we need to talk.’
‘Yes, we do,’ he agreed.
‘I’m afraid I can’t spare the time yet...’ She glanced around. ‘Has anyone offered you a cup of tea?’
‘No, but I’m fine without one. I’ll wait for you.’
‘Have something to eat,’ she pressed, leading the way to a buffet table laden with delicious-looking home-made fare. He guessed this had been donated by Kimmie’s loyal supporters, judging by the warm greetings and glances coming her way.
‘Have you just flown in? You must be tired,’ she said.
‘I have a house in London.’
‘Oh...yes...yes, of course. So you found me,’ she added, clearly uncertain as to his feelings for her.
‘Appears so,’ he agreed, noting how she nursed her belly as she stared at him. ‘Happy news,’ he said firmly, wanting to put his stake in the ground. ‘I wish I’d known sooner, but that business issue was more problematic than I’d thought.’
‘So you didn’t get my note,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘What note?’
‘The note I left with your receptionist in London when I couldn’t get hold of you any other way.’
‘I haven’t received a note.’
He couldn’t bear that they were talking in such an abbreviated form, like two strangers discussing the weather.
‘I want you to know how thrilled I am.’ Even that seemed inadequate, when what he wanted to do was to throw back his head and roar with happiness, and with confidence in the future. His natural impatience overcame his plan to play it cool. ‘How soon can you leave?’ he asked.
‘The exhibition?’ Kimmie frowned. ‘I can’t.’
‘You’re not going to stay here all night, are you?’