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It was, I realized, rather the perfect metaphor for everything else in our lives.
"The integration will take six months," Lili continued, consulting her notes with the sort of focused competence that had first caught my attention during that disastrous charity auction. "We'll start with shared client consultations, then move to cross-platform marketing strategies."
Sir Malcolm's expression remained sour. "One does wonder about the delicate nature of mixing personal and professional relationships. The optics, you understand."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. I leaned back in my chair, employing the sort of predatory stillness that had made opposing counsel question their career choices.
"Malcolm," I said, my voice achieving that particular quality of silk-wrapped steel that had served me so well over the years, "are you suggesting that my personal relationship with Miss Anderton might compromise my professional judgment?"
"I merely observe that mixing business with pleasure has historically proven problematic."
"Has it indeed?" I allowed the question to hang in the air like smoke. "How fascinating. Because I seem to recall that this firm's most lucrative partnerships have often involved rather close personal relationships. The Ashworth account, for instance. Weren't you best man at Charles Ashworth's wedding?"
Malcolm's face flushed an unfortunate shade of crimson. "That's entirely different—"
"Is it?" I interrupted, my tone remaining perfectly conversational. "Or is it merely that you find some relationships more palatable than others?"
"Edward," James murmured, a warning in his voice.
But I was far from finished. "Let me be absolutely clear, Malcolm. Miss Anderton's qualifications are impeccable, her business acumen is exemplary, and her contribution to this firm's future success will be substantial. If you have concerns about the partnership, I suggest you address them through proper channels. If, however, your concerns are of a more personal nature, I would recommend you keep them to yourself."
The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a blade.
Malcolm's jaw worked soundlessly for several seconds before he managed to regain his composure. "Of course," he said stiffly. "The firm's interests are paramount."
"Indeed they are," I agreed, my smile sharp enough to draw blood. "I'm so pleased we understand each other."
Three hours later, the adrenaline from the morning's corporate warfare had faded, leaving me oddly restless. The afternoon sun streaming through my office windows should have been soothing, but when Lili knocked on the door, her expression both nervous and excited in a way that made my pulse quicken, I knew something significant was about to shift.
We'd been back in London for two weeks, settling into a routine that felt remarkably natural—shared mornings over coffee and newspapers, evenings discussing merger strategies, nights that reminded me why I'd fallen so completely under her spell.
"Come in, darling," I called, not looking up from the contracts I was reviewing. "How did the Jackson's Garden Centers meeting go?"
"Edward," she said, her voice carrying an odd quality that made me glance up immediately. "We need to talk."
The phrase that had struck fear into the hearts of men throughout history.
I set down my pen with deliberate care, giving her my complete attention.
"That sounds ominous," I observed, attempting levity while my mind raced through possibilities.
Had she changed her mind about the merger? About coming back to London? About us?
She closed the door behind her and crossed to my desk, perching on the edge of the chair across from me. Her usual confidence was replaced by something fragile and uncertain. Her hands twisted together in her lap, and I noticed she was wearing the small silver bracelet her Mother had given her—something she only did when she was genuinely nervous.
"It's not ominous. At least, I don't think it is. But it's... significant."
"Lili," I said gently, rising from my chair. "Whatever it is, simply tell me."
She took a deep breath, her hands twisting together in front of her. "I did a home test this morning."
The words hung in the air for a moment before their significance crashed over me like a wave. My heart began hammering against my ribs with such force I was certain she could hear it.
"A home test," I repeated slowly, hardly daring to hope. "Are you saying...?"
"Pregnant," she confirmed, and suddenly her nervous smile transformed into something radiant. "At least, that's what three different tests told me this morning. I bought every brand they had at Boots, just to be sure."
The breath left my lungs in a rush. I crossed the room in two strides, sweeping her into my arms and spinning her around until she was laughing and protesting that I was making her dizzy.