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"That you love me."
Was this some new form of emotional torture?
"You know I love you--"
His thumb settled over her lips once more. "Say it the way you said it last night."
"I love you, Nik." She couldn't hold it back. It was the truth. If he needed to hear it before he walked out of her life . . .
"I love you, Mikayla."
She couldn't have heard him right. It wasn't possible.
"What?" She couldn't breathe. Had she heard him right? Was she losing her mind?
"Mikayla Martin, I love you," he whispered as he took her hand and slid slowly, 222
with such male grace, into a perfect kneeling position.
She watched, entranced, uncertain, suddenly so filled with hope. . . .
"I called your father this morning." Nik took her hand. "And I asked his permission to marry the most perfect, the most beautiful fairy ever created." He slid a ring on her finger. "And now, I ask you, Mikayla. Will you marry me?" Diamonds and emeralds graced a small gold band. It was obviously a much-loved heirloom, old and created with an eye for beauty as well as wealth.
"Nik." She stared back at him, uncertain, terrified she was only dreaming.
"Marry me, Mikayla," he said softly. "Don't make me go out into the cold again. I don't think I could live like that after knowing your warmth."
"Yes." She wasn't hesitating. If it was a dream, if she was hallucinating, then she wanted it all. "Oh, God, yes."
The dream was real. The ring on her finger, the man who rose to pull her into his embrace, the kiss that touched her lips.
"Your parents are on their way over," he groaned against her lips. "Those damned brothers of yours. Something about celebrating."
She wasn't hallucinating.
"I love you, Nik," she whispered against his lips. "Always."
"Always, little fairy," he whispered back. "I'll love you forever." 223
EPILOGUE
One year later
The bride wore antique white, and if the smooth silk looked just a little full at the stomach, then no one mentioned it.
The groom wore black, his long blond hair tied back, his expression fierce as he watched his bride walk slowly up the aisle.
He could feel his hands trying not to shake.
If ever she had looked like a fairy, then it was now. Ethereal, petite, and delicate. A dream he had never allowed himself to have until she was forced into his life. Now, he would die for her. He would kill to keep her.
Her and the child she carried within her.
Their child.
Nik couldn't believe he had the courage, but his Mikayla was courage itself. Determination.
Strength.
