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A lava-flow of emotion pushed past the hard pylons she’d erected to protect herself and she laid her hand against his chest.

Serge gazed down at her hand, acknowledging the familiar gesture.

‘Please don’t be just saying that,’ she said.

His eyes met hers, and she was stunned by the look of blatant hope in his. He wasn’t holding anything back from her any more.

‘Be with me, Clementine. Love me. Be mine.’

All the breath seemed to have left her body. It would be so easy to just give in. But she wasn’t a little girl any more, hoping others would give her what she needed. She knew now she had to ask for it.

‘I want to know first what it would be like, being yours?’ she said softly, her voice growing more sure. ‘Because I value my independence, Serge.’

She gave him a little smile, and his eyes lit with such a fierce light it felt slightly overwhelming.

‘I will tell you what I want,’ he said, his accent thickening the words. ‘I want to live with you and work beside you and fill our house with friends and family and have babies with you. I want it all. But I don’t know how much you want, Clementine.’

She swallowed. ‘You told me once you didn’t want children.’

‘Clementine, I’ve said a lot of things I wish you’d never heard. When my father died he left behind chaos in his wake. I vowed I’d never do that. But I’d been living a half-life until I met you. I want to live fully, in the moment, and I want children with you and I want to grow old with you.’

‘I took a chance, hopping in that limo with you all those weeks ago,’ she said shyly. ‘I can’t see why I shouldn’t take another chance now.’

‘Forget the limo. You came across the world with a man you hardly knew.’ Serge’s fingers tightened around hers as he meshed their hands together. ‘But, kisa, you must never, never do that again. Have you any idea how dangerous it is?’

She looked at their joined hands, wondering how that had happened.

‘You’ve never felt dangerous to me. I always feel safe with you, Serge.’

‘I want you to feel safe. I want to look after you, Clementine. I don’t want you out in the world on your own. It takes years off me just thinking about it.’

‘Then don’t think about it, Slugger.’

She drifted up against him with a little smile he recognised. He kissed her softly, tenderly, with growing depth.

She wound her arms around his neck, forged that deep physical connection she had had with him from the beginning simply through the press of her body to his. But now she knew what had been there all along—the emotional link that had been forged between them, highlighted yesterday when he had moved over her on the bed and showed her he loved her because he hadn’t had the words for how deeply he felt.

Now she understood. Serge didn’t always have the words, but he had been showing her all along.

He looked into her eyes.

‘Will you be my wife, Clementine Chevalier?’

A whole host of feelings cascaded through her, but the predominant one was certainty.

‘Yes, of course I will. Was there ever any doubt?’

Serge began to chuckle, his chest vibrating with sound.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh, my elusive Clementine—was there ever any doubt? But I have you at last.’

‘You always had me, Serge. You just had to ask.’

‘I’m asking, moya lyubov.’

My love.

Clementine’s heart caught on that sentiment. Happy tears sprinkled her eyes and Serge took her in his arms and kissed her.

‘Come on, Boots,’ he said with deep satisfaction, ‘let’s find a hotel. I want to be alone with you.’

* * * * *

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