“And if he is feeling better?” a female voice asked.

“Then we shall all be delighted,” Nicholas replied.

Georgie smiled. She could so easily picture his face, warm and reassuring. He really was an excellent doctor.

An excellent man.

The front door shut, and she heard Nicholas turn the lock. They lived upstairs, their rooms accessible by a stairway in the back.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked when he appeared in the doorway.

“You.”

“Me? Good thoughts, I hope.”

“I am smiling.”

“So you are. Forgive me for not making the connection.”

Georgie crossed the small room and stood on her toes so that she could give him a kiss. “I was just thinking,” she said, “that this was where I am meant to be. And you”—she kissed him again, on the other cheek—“are who I am meant to be with.”

“I could have told you that,” he murmured. He leaned down.

And this time, he kissed her.