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My mouth works, but no words come out, my chest feeling like it’s about to burst. The stark longing in his voice, the unconcealed vulnerability in his gaze—it undoes me completely, cutting through the tangle of conflicting emotions like scissors through a knot.
Marcus wants to marry me. He loves me. Really, truly loves me—so much so he jumped in front of a car to save me… and before that, crossed all sorts of lines to get us where we are. And in hindsight, what did I expect? Would a man as ruthless as this leave something as important as matters of the heart to chance? Did I honestly think he’d meekly hang back in the hopes that I’ll work through my insecurities before the end of the next decade?
No, that’s not how Marcus Carelli operates. He goes after what he wants, and the more he wants it, the harder he fights for it.
I was right to picture him as a modern-day pirate.
He is—and I’ve been his desired loot all along.
“Emma.” His eyes narrow, his grip on my hand tightening. “Kitten, say something.”
I force my paralyzed tongue into action. “What about your criteria? Don’t you want to marry some glamorous, sophisticated socialite? Someone who knows all about the latest fashions and politics and can—”
“No.” There’s utter certainty in his voice. “That’s what I thought I wanted, but I was wrong. There was only one criterion that ever truly mattered to me, only one thing I wanted my future wife to be.”
“And what’s that?”
“My family. Someone I can count on.” He pauses, then adds softly, “A woman unlike my mother.”
My heart squeezes to the size of a pinprick, my lungs stalling as tears prickle at the back of my throat again. Marcus hasn’t talked much about his childhood, only dropping hints here and there, but it doesn’t take much imagination to picture what it was like. His mother had been an alcoholic, he’d told me, a twenty-four-seven drunk. Of course he couldn’t count on her; whatever love she had for her son would’ve been swamped by her addiction to the bottle.
No wonder he’d embraced my grandparents so eagerly. Whereas I’ve always had their love to sustain me, he’s never had anything close to an actual family, to people he could rely on and trust.
Looking at him now, at this gorgeous, powerful man I’ve always viewed as being out of my league, I realize for the first time that I can be what he needs.
I can give him love and family… and the entirety of my heart.
He’s watching me keenly, waiting for my answer, so I drag in a breath and say, “You know I come with cats, right? It’s three of them now, but I may want to adopt more in the future. There are so many in shelters that could use a good home. And I may want to get a dog or two one day as well.”
His eyes flare with banked triumph, but his voice is even. “The more, the merrier. Fill the entire penthouse with pets if you want. Hell, I’ll buy you a bigger one—a mansion, a castle, an island… We’ll have an entire zoo if you’re so inclined.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I was half-joking about more pets, but I’m glad to hear he’s on board. “What about kids?” I ask. “I think I want three.”
“Done.” His gaze turns scorching hot. “Let’s start on the first one right away.”
“Wait,” I yelp as he pulls me to him, his strength undiminished by his injuries. “Marcus, wait, you’re hurt, and the doctors—they’ll be here at any moment. Also”—I brace my hand on his pillow, keeping our lips from joining—“I need to tell you something.”
He stills, wariness stealing into his eyes. “What is it?”
I push on the pillow, forcing him to let me sit up straight. Laying my palm on his knee, I say steadily, “I love you, Marcus. I have since before Florida. When you left me that Sunday, it felt like you ripped out a piece of my heart, and I’ve been afraid of getting hurt ever since. But I’m not anymore. I was going to tell you that when you came home after your presentation—and I’m so, so sorry you couldn’t give it because of me.”
An achingly tender smile blooms on his face. “Kitten, I—”
“No, wait, let me finish.” I take a breath. “I love you, Marcus, and I want to be with you—but I’m not okay with what you’ve done. If we’re to get married, I need you to promise that you’ll never again spy on me or manipulate my life in any way. Can you do that? Can you make me that promise?”
His eyes burn tiger bright. “Yes, my sweet. As long as you promise never to leave me—and marry me before the end of the year.”
