‘Ah, at last I seem to be getting through to you,’ he murmured with satisfaction.
Sophie looked again at the stone in her hand. ‘But this must be worth a fortune.’
‘A gift of honour,’ Xavier reminded her.
Looking at him, she understood. It was a gift made with pride, something Xavier could understand only too well. Back in their world the emerald was a precious stone, but here Xavier’s skills as a doctor were worth far more. This was the man she loved, Sophie realised, looking into his eyes. This man, who gave the people more than his money; he gave them his heart. ‘It’s a wonderful gift, Xavier,’ she said softly, looking at the stone again.
‘I know,’ he admitted, frowning suddenly. ‘I tried to explain you might not want me—’ He shrugged, his expressive lips turning down ruefully at the corners.
Sophie looked at him again. ‘Want you?’ she murmured faintly.
‘Want to marry me,’ he clarified, trying to keep his stern expression in place. ‘Well?’ he said impatiently. ‘Do you want to marry me, Sophie?’
‘Is that your idea of a proposal?’ she said wryly.
‘What if it is?’ Xavier challenged.
‘You’ll have to do a whole lot better than that,’ Sophie told him, but her heart was thundering in her ears and she could hardly breathe with excitement.
‘In that case, Dr Ford,’ Xavier declared, getting down on one knee in front of her, ‘would you—’
‘Yes, yes, of course!’
‘You don’t know what I was going to say yet,’ Xavier pointed out. ‘In fact, I was going to ask for some help with my filing—’
Sophie’s happy exclamation was still echoing around them as Xavier dragged her back into his arms.
‘So, will you marry me, Sophie?’ he demanded.
‘Let me think about it for a while,’ she teased.
‘Oh, no, sweetheart, not this time. I’ve got a plane to catch. Yes or no?’
‘In that case,’ Sophie murmured happily, ‘you don’t leave me much choice.’
When Xavier stopped kissing her Sophie let out a long, soft breath as she stared at the green stone glinting in her palm. Even in its uncut state it seemed to hold the vision of a people and the beauty of their land deep at its core. It was a gift from a proud people, and one Xavier thoroughly deserved… But there was just one thing more that could have made the moment perfect, Sophie realised, gazing at the pale band of flesh on his wrist. She longed to be able to return his brother’s wristband to him safely.
As the sun rose higher over the mountains the truck was returned to their door, almost restored apart from a few new scrapes along its faded paintwork. There was one last quick visit to make to the clinic before they left for the airstrip and the flight back to Lima, and then they would fly on together to their new life in Spain.
‘There will just about be enough time to collect up the rest of our things,’ Xavier told her. ‘It will be a fast turnaround.’
Now the emergency situation had been resolved almost all the medical staff were waiting to see them off. Lola came bounding up to Sophie while Xavier drew Henry inside to ask him whether he would consider staying on in charge of the facility.
‘I have packed all your things,’ Lola said to Sophie as she took her arm and drew her inside.
‘You’ve done a wonderful job, Lola,’ Sophie said, gazing around at all the plastic dumpers lying on the floor just inside the door. ‘What are these?’
‘Unclaimed possessions from the flood.’
‘Can I look through them?’
‘Of course.’
It was such a long shot, but it had to be worth a few minutes of her time, Sophie thought, glancing towards the office where Xavier was still in his meeting with Henry. Sending frantic mind messages for him to take a little longer, she began to root through the mud-caked objects, some of them barely distinguishable from lumps of wood. The chance of finding a leather band amongst all the tangled debris was negligible—who would have noticed it? And if they had, they would have concluded it was of no value, she told herself firmly, turning away. But then, for some reason, she went back again for one final look—and saw it. Seizing the band, she closed her fingers around it. This was something even more precious than the fabulous emerald, Sophie realised. As far as Xavier was concerned, what she’d just found was beyond price.
Xavier flew the small light aircraft from Evie’s flight back to Lima where his private jet was waiting to take them back to Spain.
‘Will you be piloting this plane?’ Sophie’s excitement at boarding a small and very luxurious private jet for the first time in her life was tempered by the knowledge that it was a long flight, which would only seem longer without Xavier by her side.
‘Not today,’ he replied. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘No reason.’
‘I thought you would enjoy travelling in a private jet. I could always arrange for you to catch a scheduled flight—’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Sophie threatened under her breath as the flight attendants stepped forward to welcome them on board.
‘Dr Ford and I will not require anything during the flight,’ Xavier said pleasantly. ‘Please feel free to relax.’
Opening the door that led from the crew’s quarters, he led Sophie into what amounted to a small private apartment.
‘You weren’t joking,’ she gasped when she saw the size of the bed.
‘Do I ever?’ Xavier demanded, drawing her into his arms as he leaned back against the door and locked it. ‘This is going to be a very long flight.’
‘I can’t wait,’ Sophie murmured, melting against him as Xavier’s low rumble of laughter vibrated against her neck.
‘Doctor, you can remove my clothes faster than anyone I ever met,’ she chastened softly, as he swung her into his arms and headed for the bed.
‘So—you let men undress you often?’ he said sternly, lowering her down on top of it.
‘You know the answer to that,’ Sophie said, catching sight of the luxurious cashmere blankets and crisp linen top sheet just before they hit the floor.
‘Do I?’ Xavier demanded fiercely, tugging his shirt over his head and reaching for the buckle on his belt.
‘Yes, you do,’ Sophie insisted softly, gasping out loud as his mouth found her breast.
‘Prepare for take-off,’ Xavier warned, moving briefly when she linked her hands behind his head to increase the pressure. Then, controlling her with one hand, he ripped off the rest of his clothes with the other.
As the engines revved to a new pitch and the jet began screaming along the runway, Sophie tensed. ‘Did I tell you I was scared of flying unless I can see out of the window?’
r /> ‘No, you didn’t,’ Xavier admitted, holding back to look at her. ‘And I regret, querida, that is not an option for you right now. But don’t worry, I think I know the cure—’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. First you have to stop talking… And then… Can you guess what I’d like you to do next, Sophie?’
‘Open wide and say ah?’ she guessed.
Xavier gave a low growl of appreciation. ‘You’re a real quick study,’ he complimented softly.
‘I do my best—’ She broke off, incapable of speech, all fear of flying dispelled as his hands slipped beneath her buttocks to tilt her up to meet him. With a soft moan of anticipation, Sophie wrapped her legs around his waist, welcoming the firm thrust with which he initiated their lovemaking.
Withdrawing completely, Xavier laughed softly when she begged him to continue, raking his shoulders with greedy fingers.
‘You’re a hungry girl,’ he observed between kisses, pretending surprise.
‘Hungry? I’m starving!’ Sophie admitted, transferring her grip to his muscular buttocks. ‘Now stop mulling over what treatment to give me, Doctor, and just give me whatever you’ve got until I feel some improvement in my condition…’
EPILOGUE
XAVIER had been far too generous, Sophie thought, staring into the looking glass. A week long shopping trip to Barcelona had resulted in a room full of new clothes, as well as the most glorious and totally feminine wedding dress from one of Spain’s top designers. Cut low at the front, sleeveless and slim-fitting, it skimmed past her hips to flare out into a gauzy chiffon skirt, with a long train sewn with countless tiny crystals that twinkled in the light at her slightest move.
On her hair, grown a little longer now at Xavier’s insistence, she wore his family’s diamond tiara to anchor the filmy Swiss lace veil she treasured because it had been his mother’s, and on her engagement finger the fabulous emerald he had taken to one of Spain’s leading jewellery designers to have cut and polished for her.
‘You look beautiful, darling.’
‘Oh, Mum, I wish you could have been as happy as I am.’