She bumped her fist against his hard shoulder. “Now you’re being Grinchy.”
“Not at all.” He caught her hand and kissed the knuckles, his mouth open and lingering.
Heat spread through her, and she parted her lips. It didn’t matter how often he made love to her or how much time they spent together. She would never become immune to what he could do to her body.
“Let’s get married,” he murmured against her skin. “This Thanksgiving. Then we’ll have an excuse to skip that holiday.”
“Dane…” She sighed. “I…I’m not sure.”
He pressed her hand against his cheek. “But I am. I already told you nothing else matters but you.”
She wanted to say yes. Nothing meant more to her than being with him, but at the same time she had to be realistic.
“Do you have any idea how much I hate introducing you as my ‘girlfriend’?” he asked, rubbing his cheek against her hand. The stubble scratched her sensitive skin, sending needle-sharp prickling sensations up her arm.
“I like it, though. I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend.”
His gaze softened. “I know, but ‘girlfriend’ is such a tedious word. It’s like weak, lukewarm tea. It’s what people use to describe a girl a schoolboy briefly fancies when he’s too young to know any better. It’s what men use when they want to talk about women they’re with temporarily, without any thought about forever. ‘Fiancée’ is much more satisfying…‘wife’ even better.”
His words flowed over her like warm honey. How could anybody think ice water coursed in his veins? “It doesn’t matter what label you use,” she whispered as her hand tightened around his. “I’m going to be with you forever.”
* * *
Forever.
Dane looked into Sophia’s guileless eyes. She meant every word.
Still, a cold fear gnawed at him. He liked it better when he knew exactly where things lay in crystal clear terms. Intellectually, he knew the statistics on divorce. Marriage didn’t guarantee anything. Hell, he didn’t even need to look at the studies. His parents supplied all the example he needed—a lifetime of marriage with a glossy, socially acceptable veneer that covered the rotting foundation underneath.
But Dane wanted to put a ring on Sophia’s finger, so people would know she was his. She’d said she didn’t want to commit to anything because of the possibility that she had Huntington’s disease, but how could she not see that it didn’t change the way he felt about her? He’d rather have a single day by her side than an eternity alone.
“Dance with me,” she said suddenly.
An eyebrow raised, he put down his wine and stood. He extended a hand, and she placed hers in his large palm.
She fit perfectly against his taller, broader frame. Even though she was eating well now, she was still slight. It was the price she’d paid for her dream, a dream she never got to fulfill because of his youthful carelessness. The thought weighed on him, especially now.
She rested her head on his chest, right above the heart, as they swayed to the music. Her sweet scent and softness seeped into his senses until all he could feel was her—the love of his life.
Her lips curved slowly into a smile. “I love it when we’re like this together,” she murmured. “I can hear your heart beat, and mine seems to match your tempo.”
On their own volition, his hands tightened around her. “Don’t commit to anything for New Year’s Day.”
“What are you planning?”
“Something better than a family dinner…or even a Christmas wedding.”
She waited expectantly.
“Spending New Year’s in Bora Bora. I just bought an over-the-water bungalow. Thought it could be our happy place.”
She gasped. “Oh my goodness, Dane. That’s too extravagant.”
“For you, nothing is too extravagant.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“Which is what I look forward to all the time. All this”—he swept a hand across the penthouse—“would mean nothing if I didn’t have you to spoil.”
“Thank you.” She tightened her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.
His heart squeezed. She had no idea how far he would go for her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slim ring box. The Kiyoko Hamada boutique had had just the perfect item.
Subtle tension tightened Sophia, but he wasn’t relenting on this.
“Dane, I thought—”
He put a finger over her lips. “No thinking. You’re going to accept this ring.”
“But—”
He increased the pressure on her lips. “Shh. I’m not asking you to marry me.” He already had the ring he was going to propose with. This was different. “I’m asking you to at least wear my ring until we’re officially engaged.” He opened the lid.
Diamonds and sapphires encrusted a gorgeous, slim platinum band. The center diamond was pink and in the shape of a heart. The lights reflected off the precisely cut stones.
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered.
“It’s to let everyone know you’re mine…and to let you know you have my heart. Forever.”
“Dane…”
“I know why you want to wait, but bend a little. Let me know there’s a chance you’re going to say yes.”
She closed her eyes. “You know it’s me, not you.”
“Nothing’s going to make me change my mind. It’s you or no one.”
“I know.” She looked into his gaze. “That’s what scares me. You really deserve everything and the best.”
“I already have everything and the best. You should’ve run when I gave you the chance. Now it’s too late. I’m not letting you go.” He slid the ring onto her unresisting finger. The tightness in his chest eased somewhat as he lifted her hand to see how it looked. Of course it was gorgeous. Dane had good taste.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
His eyes on hers, he brushed his lips over her knuckles and the ring, then turned her hand to press a kiss in the center of her palm and shifted so it rested against his cheek. “Thank you for never giving up on me.” If he’d been her, he would’ve given up on himself a long time ago. He’d been a total jerk—a professional asshole, as his siblings liked to say.
Cradling her beloved face in his hands, he slanted his mouth over hers. She kissed him back, her lips eager. In moments like this, he could believe she was his forever.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Ceinlys sat with her phone pressed to her ear. Two fingers of the other hand were pressed against the opposite temple, where there was a pulsing knot. She finally understood why her sons drank so much.
Jane’s father, Wes, was sweet, although he’d been bombarding Ceinlys with more information than necessary about the budget, what he was considering doing, and what he wanted for his baby girl.
If he wanted the ceremony he was thinking about, he should’ve let Iain pay for the entire thing. Still. He was an in-law, and therefore important to Iain. She managed to relax her jaw enough to say, “It would be prudent to note that everything in L.A. is going to cost approximately three times as much as it would in Paris.”