Oliver did manage to sleep, eventually. He knew that he must need the rest, even if his body and mind were still running wild on adrenaline from…well, everything that had happened the night before. After tossing and turning through the small hours, he woke with the first rays of the sunlight, and lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. Then he abruptly got out of bed, and rang for Drake. He felt strangely full of energy; not unlike the way he usually felt when closing in on a new deal or a merger.
"Good morning, sir. Will you take breakfast in your room, or…?"
"Just coffee for now, Drake. I'll take a proper breakfast downstairs, later, when Annie and Miss Farrell have risen for the day. At the dining table, all three of us."
"Very good, sir."
"And Drake? Fetch me the telephone book, and my diary. I want to make some calls."
A few hours later, what remained of the coffee had gone cold. Oliver had done everything he needed to, and found himself checking his watch and the clock at more and more frequent intervals. Surely it wasn't too early to check on Grace and Annie now… He knew they'd want to sleep in, but the sun was well up. And he'd waited so long already.
He felt oddly nervous as he entered the wing that held the guest rooms. As though he was trespassing. It was a relief when he got to Annie's room to find that her door was open – and the girl herself was sitting up in bed. When she noticed him hovering on the threshold, she beamed.
"Good morning, Mr. Warbucks."
"Good morning, Annie. I hope you don't mind me barging in like this. I see you're not up yet. I just wanted to find out how you were, and whether you slept well last night."
"Pretty well. I did wake up once, and felt a bit…worried…but Miss Farrell was right there."
The little girl's eyes lit up brighter as she patted the space next to her in the double bed.
"After that, Miss Farrell ended up sleeping here, next to me and Sandy. I told him not to snore."
"I should hope so!" Oliver chuckled, to hide the swell of tender feelings washing over him.
"And, err…where is Miss Farrell, at the moment?"
"She's just brushing her hair," Annie explained, nodding towards the ensuite bathroom. "She said we could go down for breakfast once she looks presentable."
"Ah. Well, when she comes out, tell her-"
"Tell me what?"
Oliver felt that leaping sensation in his stomach as Grace appeared in the ensuite doorway. (Was this going to happen every time he laid eyes on her? How was a man supposed to get anything done?) She was smiling, and the air between them felt full of a new, electric awareness. The shared secret of what had happened between them the night before.
With regards to her appearance, if she'd been aiming only for 'presentable' then she'd well overshot her target. Several other, more poetic words came to mind. But Oliver knew he shouldn't stare for too long, not least before they'd explained anything to Annie.
"Oh…good morning, Grace. I was just about to tell Annie that, whenever you're both ready, breakfast is being kept warm downstairs. I thought we could all eat together, if you'll join me. Apparently Mrs. Pugh has pulled out all the stops and made pancakes."
Annie beamed, and Grace chuckled warmly at the child's clear enthusiasm.
"Once Annie's dressed, we'll be right down."
They all sat together down one end of the grand dining table, the rest of its vast space ignored. Oliver was watching Annie closely. He was glad to see that she still had an appetite, digging into her pancakes with zeal. But he noticed the way, between mouthfuls, she would look over at Grace, and then at himself, and then smile down at her breakfast. That made Oliver think he was right to have made the phone calls he had done that morning.
"Now, Annie…" he began, setting down his fork. "I want to run something by you. Last night was frightening for all of us, and we are very, very glad to have you back. I don't know how you feel…but I think I could use some time to recover from everything that's happened in the past few days. To that end, I've cleared our schedules for the next week."
Grace didn't quite manage to stifle her gasp. When Oliver turned to her, she looked absolutely astonished.
"Yes, yours too, Miss Farrell," he nodded, smiling at her incredulity. "I've arranged that all my business interests be taken care of, for this week. Not quite as well as you and I would've done, I must admit… But for these few days, I think there are more important things."
Grace and Annie, who had both been staring at him, now stared at each other.
"Mr. Warbucks," said Annie carefully, "are you feeling okay? You're not ill, or anything?"
He laughed, and that seemed only to surprise them even more.
"I'm quite well, thank you Annie. So, are we all in agreement? For the next week, you'll have Miss Farrell and I at your disposal. If there's anything you'd like for us to do together – a tennis match, a picnic – you only need ask. My only stipulation is that all these activities take place at home. I don't want us to go out until we're better rested. Does that sound amenable?"
Annie's mouth hung agape, and Oliver could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
"I don't know what 'amenable' means, but…oh boy, I'm gonna have to make a list of all the things I want us to do! Do you think Mrs. Greer would lend me a pencil?"
The girl took one last bite of pancake, and then set off at a run.
In the sudden silence, Grace was still staring at him like he was some kind of miracle. Oliver avoided meeting her eyes for a few seconds, studiously cutting up his remaining bacon.
"I made several phone calls this morning," he began to explain. "Among them, to a colleague of my own personal doctor. This man I spoke with is a pediatric…well, a children's doctor of some kind, and he's well-acquainted with how shock and traumatic events manifest in children of Annie's age. I sought his advice. He said that Annie will probably want to remain close to us for a while – that having us nearby will reassure her. As the days pass, we can build up her confidence, and slowly acclimatize her to doing things by herself, or with other trusted adults. Punjab, for example. But the doctor agreed with me that taking this time together would help Annie feel safe, and be able to trust that we are there for her."
He finally looked up. Grace's eyes were shining.
"Does that seem sensible to you?" he asked, starting to feel self-conscious beneath her gaze.
"That seems like very sound thinking," the woman nodded, her voice thick with poorly-concealed emotion. "And very…sweet. I mean, thoughtful. Considerate."
Oliver's lips twitched in amusement as she tried to backtrack on her word choice. True, if anyone else had called him 'sweet', he would definitely have objections. But Grace…
"How have you had time to do all this, before breakfast?" she asked.
"Well, I woke quite early. I struggled to sleep last night, for some reason. Can't think why…"
She caught the meaningful glimmer in his eye, and there was that smile he loved, radiant and sweetly flustered. God, she was pretty.
"If you're finished with breakfast, would you walk with me, Grace?"
They stepped out onto the terrace, walking side by side towards the paths of the garden. After waiting to speak with her for hours, Oliver was eager to get her up to speed with the plans he'd put in place.
"I have the adoption papers ready, of course. But I want to wait for the right moment. We need to do this at Annie's pace…"
Thinking about pace, as he talked it struck Oliver that he had inadvertently fallen into old habits. Here he was, walking along and extemporizing on whatever idea was in his head, while Grace followed along. In the past, that had been a winning formula…but it wasn't what he intended, going forward. Perhaps the best way out was to lean into humor, and make fun of himself a little.
"So, that's item one on the agenda," he continued, playing up his 'brash businessman' voice, "adopting Annie. Now, item two on the agenda…us."
He stopped walking suddenly, and turned to face her. Grace stopped short, a laughing smile suddenly breaking over her face.
"I was hoping we might get to that…" she said, shyly. Oliver took her hands, and pulled her down to sit on a nearby bench surrounded by hedges.
They were both smiling rather foolishly as they took a seat. It was a small bench, which necessitated them sitting quite close together – a fact that Oliver was quietly very pleased with. Still holding both of Grace's hands, he addressed her.
"First of all, I want to say that what happened last night – the end of last night – made me…extremely happy. And Grace, I need you to know that I'm very serious about this. About us. I think you know I'm not the sort of man who takes anything lightly…and, well, that extends to matters of the heart."
He hoped that his sincerity was coming across. He wasn't used to making these sorts of declarations, and it occurred to him that he might be sounding old-fashioned. Who knew what a man Grace's own age would say? However, if Grace's starry eyes were anything to go by, he was apparently making a reasonable job of it.
"You've probably also guessed that it wasn't entirely for Annie's benefit that I cleared our schedules. I also wanted the chance to spend time with you."
Her smile only brightened at that bit of honesty. Grace was not an inarticulate woman, but it seemed right now that she really couldn't think of what to say.
"I think it'll be good for us to have this time at the house. At the end of this week, when we really put the wheels in motion in terms of adopting Annie, I would also hope to make…our new situation public. If you haven't gone off me by that time, of course."
He made that last aside with a self-deprecating chuckle. Grace gave him a look.
"As if there's any chance of that…"
What he didn't say aloud was that his decision to spend the week at home had been a carefully-weighed one. There was Annie to think of, of course. But another reason was this. There were things people tended to say about businessmen and their secretaries…insinuations that were made, none of them pleasant. And he simply would not have that kind of thing said about Grace. But he knew he didn't have a hope in Hades of appearing with her in public, now, without his feelings being totally obvious.
He had considered proposing to her that very morning. He certainly had no doubts about the depth of his own feelings. And with a ring on her finger, the gossip mills couldn't accuse her of being anything less than respectable. But it was probably too soon. Grace deserved to be romanced, and to have some time in which to make up her mind. If it felt right, he would propose before the week was up. And then, they could sign Annie's adoption papers as a couple. He wanted Grace's name next to his.
To cover this brief reverie, Oliver lifted Grace's hand to his lips.
"One thought: how do you want to let…our situation…come to the attention of the staff?"
It was Grace's turn to look self-deprecating.
"If the rest of the staff have been paying even the slightest bit of attention, I'd say they won't be very surprised. They probably already know how I feel about you."
Pleased, Oliver raised a teasing eyebrow. "And how do you feel about me, Miss Farrell?"
Grace laughed, and lowered her eyes demurely.
"Oliver! I should have thought it was embarrassingly obvious."
She was smiling down at her lap the same way she had that first day in the garden. Oliver found it just as charming now as he had then.
While he was drinking in the sight of her, a memory popped into his head. He wondered for a second whether he really should divulge what he was about to, but he couldn't resist.
"Annie did once casually observe that you 'think I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread'..."
Grace's mouth fell open. She stared for a few seconds, and then she covered her face with her hands, laughing in spite of herself. And in a move that delighted Oliver, she leaned closer and buried her blushing face in his chest.
"Oh, dear… she's a very observant child," Grace said weakly, still laughing at herself as she raised her face. But, Oliver noticed, she didn't move away. He reached out and tucked two fingers under her chin, keeping her face tilted upwards so that she would have to meet his eyes. They were deliciously close.
"And I was an unobservant fool, not to see what was right in front of me. I hope you'll let me make it up to you."
"What did you have in mind?"
She asked that in a soft voice, slightly coy, looking up at him through her lashes. Oliver's mouth felt dry all of a sudden.
Oliver Warbucks was, in fact, quite used to women flirting with him. For a billionaire, it was something of an occupational hazard. What he wasn't used to was being flirted with by someone he was already crazy about. Someone he knew, and respected, and counted as a friend as well as a lover. The effect was potent in the extreme.
"Uhm…" he stammered, his mind flatly refusing to produce a coherent response. "I…I'll have to get back to you on that. When I can remember how to form a sentence."
Grace's answering laugh was breathy, and her eyes were caught on his mouth. It was the most natural thing in the world to move forward and close the distance between them.
Last night their kisses had been urgent, searching, full of emotion. That had been one kind of bliss – and today was another. This morning, their kisses were lazy and sweet, with an undertow of desire that Oliver could feel slowly pulling him in. Grace's perfume teased at his senses, and the idea that she might possibly have selected it with him in mind was just as dizzying as the sweet softness of her lips. After another few seconds of indulgence, he broke the kiss, and looked at Grace dazedly. Oh, he was never, ever going to get sick of making her blush.
"What about Annie?" she asked. "When will we tell her about…us?"
She put a joyful little inflection on that word, and Oliver grinned.
"I'll leave that up to you. Personally, I'd be tempted to wait for her to notice. She'll figure it out. She's a smart girl."
"She certainly seems to have me figured out! Alright, I'll pick a moment, and tell her. Probably when she asks me why I've been smiling like a lunatic."
Oliver laughed. He knew what she meant. He hadn't smiled this much in years. Possibly ever.
"Speaking of Annie, shall we go and find her? I do have some slight trepidation about the kind of things she might be putting on that list…"
"This was your idea, Oliver," Grace reminded him, beaming. "Let's go."