Page 39 of Resurrection
Imogen did too. As he had said, life had thrown a lot at her lately, but this—what was happening with him—definitely felt right.
“Agreed. We’re totally on the same page,” she said with a smile. “And speaking of where we’re heading … do you have any idea where this ship is going?”
Nic shook his head with a smile. “I gotta be totally honest; once he told me Havit was on board, I quit caring.”
Laughter burst from Imogen’s lips. “I get it now.”
The man in question came bustling toward them with two small dishes.
“Poached pears with homemade crème caramel and a touch of cinnamon.”
He slid one small bowl onto the table in front of each of them. “Bon appétit, mes amis.”
“Oh my goodness. This looks amazing.”
“Just wait until supper, mademoiselle. I willreallyhave time to prepare a feast for you and Mr. Niquaise.”
Imogen took one bite and moaned. She decided she didn’t care where they were headed anymore either.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nic had waited a long, long time for this. For years, he’d settled for casual, not willing to get deeply involved with any woman he knew wasn’t going to be for him over the long haul. But with Imogen, everything felt different. She felt different. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been looking for a man, nor was she the type to even consider hollering at him. Or maybe Leo was right, and there was something about that Irish blood and the New Orleans weather. Whatever it was, he was totally taken by her.
Whether they were eating beignets in his breakfast room or poached pears on the deck of the best non-kidnapping ship on the Mississippi, Nic just loved being with her. She hadn’t panicked. She’d immediately begun problem-solving. She hadn’t frozen when it came time to leap. She’d held his hand and jumped.
She appreciated his all-time favorite chef, which meant she had phenomenal taste. And even more importantly, she was kind and polite to everyone, whether it was a valet, a restaurant host, a server, the man who hadn’t really kidnapped her sister, or Havit. All of those things and every other reason he’d already mentally listed in the past twenty-four or so hours blended together into a tapestry that spelledkeeperfor him.
So what if she lived on Grand Island? He only had to be in NOLA two days per week. He could paint anywhere the light was good. And a change of pace never hurt anyone. However it worked out, it would work out.
But for now, as he pulled out her chair so she could rise from the table, a walk on the deck was exactly what he wanted to do with her.
In her green-and-white checked dress, all she needed was a parasol to look like she’d come from a different era. He committed her image to memory as she stared out over the side of the ship, watching the levee and everything beyond it pass by.
“I’ve never gone by river to the Gulf before. Have you?”
“Not even once,” he replied.
“I’ve driven to the island so many times, but this is a totally different experience.”
“You look beautiful,” he replied. “Like a portrait I’d love to paint.”
She turned, and the light breeze fluttered her flame-colored ponytail across her shoulder. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“It’s not a line. I almost never paint real people.”
“Really?”
“I tattoo them. Turn them into art instead. Plus, two days per week tops off my peopling meter most of the time.”
“You are the most interesting person I think I’ve ever met.”
“Good. That means you’ll stick around and be less likely to get bored.”
“Bored? What’s that?” Imogen laughed. “I never get bored. Life has way too much to offer to be bored.”
And that was it. That was the moment Nic fell in love.
“I’ve never heard anyone else say that but me,” he said quietly as she turned to look at him as the coastline slid by.
