He found her on the porch, chatting with the men from creative, smoking a cigar. There she was with a tuxedo jacket wrapped around her shoulders, laughing along with the men as she delivered the punch line of an off color joke. The collective roar of laughter made him lean against the jamb of the french door so that he could study her more closely. The men were so entranced by her humor and personality, no one saw him there watching as the queen held court.
She looked beautiful tonight in a black dress that walked the line between casual and dressy. It was perfectly fit to the curves of her body; tasteful in it's cut, but a little sexy. The exact dress had inspired naughty thoughts in him and most of the men in the room tonight. When she'd met him in the lobby, his heart had begun to race. He didn't know how she had done it, but in the four days he had known her, he hadn't wanted to be away from her. He had even made up the lame excuse about wanting to borrow her book so that he could finish it. He had been mildly interested in finding out the ending of the book, but he had wanted to talk to her more, and the thought of her getting off that plane and him not being able to find her again scared him more than a little. He had been happy when she clamored up the tiny aisle of the plane and stopped right in front of him.
"I'm right here," she pointed to the seat next to him and he had to remember to play it cool when he stepped out of her way. When he reached up to take the luggage out of her hand she protested a little, but let him put the small royal purple suitcase in the over head compartment. When she brushed past him, the faint but spicy smell of her peaked his interest. She didn't wear a floral or fruity scent like most women he knew did. This was better. Kind of a peppery smell that he got lost in. He was so lost, in fact, that he forgot he was standing in the aisle until a little old Dutch woman cleared her throat. Blushing, he sat down, and was hyper-aware of the cute cinnamon colored woman next to him. He had felt a spark of attraction when her hand brushed his when she reached for the seatbelt, he heard every clearing of her throat, and blessed her when she sneezed daintily. Her dark brown almond shaped eyes gave her a look that he could only describe as exotic. When they had gotten off the plane, he had followed her to Customs and then they sought out the right train together. It had been nice to have her to talk to in the dark of the early morning. It was foggy and a bit chilly when they had finally stepped out of the train station an into the streets, and he had been amused when she said that Amsterdam felt like vampires should live there. He had often thought the same thing when he had come with work, but had never had anyone to voice it to.
It had been a coincidence when he found out they were at the hotel, but he would have walked to the ends of the earth with her.
She had been there when he had found the place to live, she had been there when they had been to the Rijkesmuseum and she had been there when they went to Bijenkorpf and had laughed together about the giant Swart Pieters that climbed the ropes. He couldn't imagine a life without her, and the thought of letting her go back was causing heart palpations.
The only thing she hadn't been there for was when he had bought her ring. A giant cushion cut diamond that he had hoped she would like. He had never asked what she might want, but he was hoping that the ring would be enough to get her to stay.
Simon hadn't meant to tell her he loved her in so off hand a way, but he had meant it when the words escaped his mouth. Paul had looked at him with a kind of knowing, he let a rare grin pass his lips, and Simon smiled back.
"Will she be here with you?" Paul Westerink was a lot of things, but first and foremost he was a romantic.
"She's supposed to leave soon." Simon frowned and he felt his face fall.
"Might I suggest that you do something drastic? Something that might make her realize the depth of feeling for her?"
"Like a ring?" Simon felt stupid, but it wasn't everyday that you fell in love with someone at first sight.
"Like a ring." Paul confirmed. It only took a minute for the thought to lodge it's self in Simon's mind, and he liked it. He wondered what kind of ring she might want, and he wondered how he was going to propose to her. Then he thought of how absurd it might seem to her. They had only known one another for four days, and it might scare her. He planted his face in his palm, and then rubbed his hand up and through his hair in frustration.
"If I may," Paul reached into one of the drawers on his side of the desk, and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Simon, who accepted it with a puzzled look on his face. "This is a friend, Willem. He is a jeweler who will be more than happy to help you. Might I suggest a nice cushion cut solitaire?" Paul was a bit more verbose than usual, and Simon was grateful for it. He had only ever asked asked a woman to marry him once before and it have ended in disaster just days before they were to say their I Do's. Simon had spent the majority of the rest of the vacation that was supposed to be a destination wedding and honeymoon holed up in his room drinking until he passed out. Just the thought of asking Sam was daunting, but he was nervous not because he wasn't sure of how he felt, but because he wasn't sure she would say yes. His liver and his heart couldn't take that kind of rejection again.
"A cushion cut? I don't even know what that means," Simon rubbed at his temples. Paul's kind blue eyes twinkled.
"When we finish this paper work for the apartment, you can go there. I will phone Willem and inform him that you are on your way. You will be in good hands, Mr. Fischer. I can promise you that."
***
"Do you have to leave?" Cooper, one of the men was staring up at Samantha with more than a little lust in his gaze. Simon watched as she grabbed his chin giving it a playful squeeze. It amused him that he felt a pang of jealousy. He didn't want her touching anyone but him.
