LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

of the old Victorian. She stepped out onto the balcony to see the row of Painted Ladies, the nickname given to Victorian houses adorned with several shades of coordinating paint, across the street. Many of the houses were in various stages of renovation.

      She could smell a hint of the ocean as the breeze picked up. Turning back into the apartment, her gaze moved slowly over the table she’d set so meticulously.

      There were two plates with chocolate éclairs on them, the dessert she and Alex had shared on their first date. A bottle of premium champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the same brand Alex had purchased the day of their engagement. A dried arrangement of white gardenias and stephanotis in the center of the table—her wedding bouquet.

      A ripple of apprehension fluttered through her. This was a big step in her life. Paige had spent the past year preparing herself for this moment. Telling herself that it was time to move on. But was she really ready to forget about Alex—forever?

      Yes.

      She took a determined step toward the table and picked up the folded sheet of paper lying there. Alex’s marriage proposal—sent via e-mail over a year ago. Paige had been stunned when she’d opened it. Hadn’t really believed it until she’d printed it out in black and white. Now her gaze flew over the words she’d memorized long ago. Words that were imprinted on her heart.

      Paige,

      We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Say you’ll marry me and be mine forever.

      Alex

      She took a deep breath, then held the paper over the candle, letting the flame lick at the edges until it caught. The corner of the paper turned black and began curling toward her palm. She dropped it in a crystal bowl and watched it burn until it was nothing but ashes.

      Then she picked up the imported champagne bottle and poured both flutes full of the sparkling wine. “Here’s to you, Alex Mack.” She raised one glass high in the air. “May you rot in hell.”

      Paige caught her reflection in the antique wall mirror, still surprised by the woman she saw there. Her thick brown hair was now short and sassy, tapered at her neck and streaked with auburn highlights.

      She’d gone on a shopping spree, too, buying outfits like the slinky halter top and matching red leather pants she’d worn here tonight. No more shapeless linen shifts and boring pantsuits for the new Paige Hanover.

      It was time for a fresh start, symbolized by the anemone tattoo on her ankle. In the language of flowers, anemones stood for anticipation. Paige had grown up with flowers, working in her paternal grandfather’s flower shop, Bay Bouquets, then inheriting it from him after his death five years ago.

      Now she designed custom floral arrangements for the homes and businesses of some of the wealthiest citizens of San Francisco. Her mother ran the front of the store and her stepfather had made all the deliveries until his sudden disappearance eighteen months ago.

      Bay Bouquets was definitely a family affair, but maybe it was time to expand. Once she put Alex behind her, she could concentrate fully on her business. Maybe even look into starting a franchise.

      But first things first.

      Paige walked over to the stereo and ejected the Sinatra CD, then stepped out onto the balcony. Lights shone in the houses around her and she knew families were sitting down to dinner together. Couples were telling each other about their day. She’d dreamed of doing the same with Alex in this very apartment.

      A dream that had been hard to let go—until tonight.

      Holding the CD in her hand like a Frisbee, she flipped her wrist and sent it spinning into the night. “Goodbye, Frank.”

      Then her hand went to the engagement ring she kept on a chain around her neck. She’d worn it next to her heart for the past year. An exquisite half-carat diamond that had been a symbol of Alex’s commitment—until her handsome fiancé had disappeared without any explanation.

      Her throat tightened, remembering the thrill that had soared through her when Alex had pulled the ring from his shirt pocket and presented it to her. The shy, almost embarrassed way he’d slipped it on her finger.

      Paige had kissed him then, so full of passion for him that it had scorched her down to her very soul. Alex had lost all of his shyness, pulling her tightly against him and ravishing her lips with his mouth. She breathed a deep, wistful sigh, remembering the moment and the desire she could have sworn she’d seen in his eyes.

      Paige had believed that they would finally consummate their relationship that night…but had only been disappointed once again.

      Alex had wanted to wait until their wedding night. Had murmured something about wanting to make it special between them. She’d actually thought it rather sweet at the time—as well as a little frustrating.

      Now she knew it had been a sign.

      A bad sign. Alex hadn’t wanted her after all. Something…something about her had made him change his mind. He hadn’t even bothered to explain the reason in the note he’d left, which had contained only two words: Sorry, Alex. She’d spent months going over every moment they’d spent together, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong.

      After months of torturous soul-searching and endless phone conversations with her friends analyzing every angle of the relationship, Paige had finally figured it out. She’d fallen in love with a jerk.

      A handsome, sexy, charming jerk, but a jerk all the same. Paige blamed herself for indulging in a whirlwind romance. For agreeing to marry a man she’d known for barely a month. For letting him break her heart.

      She blamed Alex for everything else. The cowardly way he ran off before the wedding. All the silly UFO hype that had followed. But most of all, she blamed him for the way he’d made her doubt herself.

      So it was time to put him in the past once and for all. After tonight she’d never think about or cry over Alex again. Maybe her mother would even follow her example, though Paige didn’t hold out much hope.

      Margo Weaver didn’t handle loss well. She’d had a mental breakdown twelve years ago when Paige’s father had been killed in a car accident, refusing to accept his death. Just like she was refusing to accept the fact that her second husband wasn’t coming back. Margo was certain Stanley would return to her some day—as soon as the aliens let him go.

      Paige didn’t want to end up like her mother—clinging to a crazy fantasy instead of accepting reality. Carefully pulling the chain over her head, she undid the clasp and the diamond ring fell into her palm. The platinum band glistened in the waning sunlight. She closed her fist around it, then hurled it over the balcony. “Goodbye, Alex.”

      She leaned over the railing to watch the ring fly through the air. It bounced down the sidewalk several feet before she finally lost sight of it.

      Gone forever. Just like Alex.

      A perfect ending to what she’d once believed was a perfect love.

      Paige straightened and turned, her heart lighter than it had been for a long time. She walked over to the table, blew out the candles, then dumped the éclairs into the trash. She intended to leave all the rest behind—the dishes, the candlesticks, the champagne. A thank-you to Franco for lending her the skirt for the evening. She had no reason to ever return to this apartment.

      Paige opened the door, ready to step into her new life.

      And saw Alex Mack standing on the other side.

      She grabbed the doorjamb to keep from falling over, his sexy smile still able to make her heart bounce in her chest.

      Then he said, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

      2

      ALEX KNEW he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. His communication skills had obviously suffered from lack

Скачать книгу