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“Are we looking at a house?” she asked as he helped her from the car.
“No. You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She picked up her saucy ballet flat with its colorful pink ribbon, giving the hem of her stretchy knit skirt a lift. The powder blue hugged her bump and hips before falling to her knees. A lacy white crop top with long sleeves and a scalloped hem covered her arms and upper torso.
Saint brought her into the foyer where a guard touched his hat in greeting. At the elevator, Saint tapped in a code.
“This is starting to feel like a secret location for spies or—Oh.”
The doors opened into a sparkling wonderland. A jewelry shop. A very, very exclusive one if the thick glass and security precautions and displayed tiaras were anything to go on.
A woman introduced herself as Ms. Smythe. She had long black hair, bright mauve lips and vintage-style sunglasses with yellow lenses that sat low on her nose.
“Ah. My earrings found their owner after all,” Ms. Smythe said with warm approval. “They suit you.”
“Oh. Thank you. I do love them,” Fliss said sincerely, touching one self-consciously.
“Please make yourself comfortable.” She waved at a love seat with a low table before it.
Fliss’s heart clenched as she saw the array of diamond rings in a specialized black tray waiting on the table.
“I’ve prepared a selection for you to peruse, but it’s only a starting point. I can also create a custom piece once I have a sense of your taste. Shall I fetch some nonalcoholic bubbly?”
“Yes.” Saint nodded at Ms. Smythe. “Give us a moment, if you don’t mind.”
He brought Fliss to the table. She could hardly breathe, realizing what this moment was. Her whole body grew hot, her cheeks stung and her eyes welled.
“I keep thinking,” Saint began gravely while circling his hand in her lower back.
She looked up at him, wanting to capture and memorize everything about his proposal. He was as handsome as ever, still looking freshly shaved and crisp from his morning shower. His suit was a lightweight sage green, his collar bone white, as was his tie. His mouth was twitching as though he wasn’t as steady on the inside as he looked on the outside, and his dark coffee eyes were so compelling she could have fallen into them.
“For the baby’s sake...” he continued in a voice that was growing husky.
For the baby’s sake.
She knew that wasn’t the best reason to marry, but it was a good one. She wanted more commitment between them. She already knew that she wanted to spend her life with him. She loved him.
Oh, God. She loved him.
Her insides felt as though they tilted and glinted, reflecting rainbows through her as she accepted all the lovely colors of love he provoked—the bright yellows and laughing greens, the passionate reds, the introspective blues and the endless fire of pure, white love.
“We should have more commitment between us. You’re shaking.” He reached for her hand. “I should have warned you this morning. Asked. I am asking,” he said wryly. “Will you marry me, Fliss?”
“Yes,” she whispered, blinking to clear her welling eyes, so suffused in the power of her love for him she could hardly speak.
He drew in a breath the way he did sometimes when she touched him intimately, as though the pleasure was more intense than he could bear. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, mouth hot and hungry but tender and sweet. Thorough and...loving?
As the fires of arousal began to catch in both of them, he drew back, rueful.
“Let’s pick a ring.”
She swiped under her eyes and drew a breath, trying to catch hold of herself. It wasn’t the engagement filling her with so much joy, though. It was this feeling. She was in love. She had found her person.
He is the one.
“They don’t have prices,” she whispered as she picked up one at random.
“This is not a place for bargain hunters,” Saint said drily. “I like this one.”
