He retrieved her hand again and kissed her fingertips. “I'm serious, Faye. I've never felt like this in my life. And I knew it the minute we met in Guadalcanal. I just didn't know what to say to you there. For all I knew I'd be dead the next day. But I'm not, and I'm home, and you're the most incredible woman I've ever known….”
“How can you say a thing like that?” She looked upset and he wanted to hold her in his arms, but he didn't dare, not in the middle of the restaurant, with the photographers possibly lurking nearby, and everyone anxious to report what they'd seen. “You don't even know me, Ward. You saw me perform for two hours in Guadalcanal … we talked for half an hour afterwards … we've seen each other twice since you got back….” She wanted to discourage him now, before it was too late but she wasn't even sure why. It's just that it all seemed to be going so fast, and yet she had this incredible feeling about him, as though she could have walked off into the sunset with him that night, hand in hand, and everything would have been all right for the rest of their lives. But it didn't happen like that. Did it? It couldn't … or maybe it did … maybe that was “the real thing” that everyone talks about. “It's too soon, Ward.”
'Too soon for what?” He looked matter-of-fact. “Too soon to tell you I'm in love with you? Well, maybe it is. But the fact is, Faye, I am. I've been in love with you for years.”
“Then it's an illusion.”
“No, it's not. You are exactly who I sensed you were. You are smart and realistic and practical. You are modest and warm and funny and beautiful. You don't give a damn who the press agents say you are. As far as you're concerned, you like what you do, you work hard. You are the most decent woman I've ever met, and what's more you're good at what you do, because of all of the above … and if I don't drag you out of here and kiss you in the next five minutes, I'm going to go nuts, Faye Price, so just shut up, or I'll kiss you right here!”
Her eyes were worried, but she couldn't help smiling at him. “What if you figure out that you hate me in six months?”
“Why should I?”
“I probably have habits you'd detest. Ward, I'm telling you, you don't know who I am. And I don't know you.”
“Fine. Then we'll get to know each other.” But he had already tipped his hand to her and he didn't care. “But I'm going to glue myself to you and drive you nuts till you say yes.” He looked completely satisfied with what he had just said, and drained his glass of champagne with a contented look, and then set it down and looked at her. “All right with you?”
“Would it make a difference if I said no?”
“Not a bit.” It was the grin she had already come to love, the mischievous spark in the deep blue eyes. He was difficult to resist, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to. She just wanted them both to be sensible. She had had romances with other men before, though admittedly none were quite like him. But she didn't want to be one of those women the press wrote about constantly, in love with this one, engaged to that one, and in the end it all amounted to their being used up, like tired old Hollywood whores. She still cared about things like that, which was another thing he liked about her. In fact, he was convinced that he liked everything, and she suspected the same about him, but she wasn't about to give in, certainly not after three days.
“You're impossible.”
“I know.” He looked pleased with himself, and then suddenly concerned as he leaned toward her. “Does it bother you that I don't work?” Maybe that was it, the work ethic was bothering her.
“Not if you can afford not to, I suppose. But don't you get bored, Ward?” She was intrigued with what he did with his spare time. She worked so hard, and had for years, it was difficult to imagine just playing tennis and going out to lunch. It sounded deadly to her, but he certainly didn't seem unhappy with it.
