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She was so tense, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d shattered into tiny pieces as she waited for him to speak. No answer to a question had ever mattered more.
“No, don’t touch me,” she insisted when he reached out. She wouldn’t be able to think straight if he did. Backing away, she succeeded only in stumbling over the end of her sofa bed, forcing Alexei to perform a flying tackle to save her. To his credit, once he’d steadied her, he dropped his hands to his side and let her go.
“I would have thought my reasons for being here are obvious?”
“To you, maybe—” Emotion threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t fold now. Lifting her chin, she gave it to him straight. “You can’t just walk back into my life as if nothing’s happened. I can’t do this again—”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “You’ve never been a quitter.”
“But I shouldn’t have to fight so hard, and, frankly, I don’t want to.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve been a bastard. But with your help, I intend to change.”
Taking the single step necessary, he pulled her into his arms. “You have to do this again—we have to do this again, and we have to get it right this time. Give us a chance, Amber. I know I messed up, and I get that there aren’t any guarantees, but without you, my life is meaningless. I couldn’t even last a day without you.”
“Is this your pride talking? I left you, so now you have to be the one to walk away?”
“You’re so wrong,” he insisted. “This isn’t a polo match. This is forever.”
Forever?
Did he have to raise a brow, slant those lips, and let the smile in his eyes do the talking for him?
“You’ve got as little reason to trust as I have,” Alexei told her, “but in the end, we both want the same thing, which
is to trust and be trusted; to love and be loved. You have to take the same first step I do, if you want that.”
She wanted to believe him. “What do you want me to say?”
“That you love me would be a start. Then move on to Happy New Year, followed swiftly by Happy Christmas, because tomorrow is another Christmas Day.”
“The seventh of January,” she whispered.
“I love you, Amber. You tore my heart out of my chest and took it with you. I had to come here to get it back.”
“You love me?” she repeated, staring into Alexei’s eyes.
“Forever—if that’s long enough for you? And I know you don’t want to live on a boat. I get that.”
“It’s very nice for a holiday,” she said politely.
Alexei laughed out loud, and it was the most glorious sound she’d ever heard. “Very nice,” he agreed, his steel-gray eyes dancing with warmth and laughter. “But now—” He looked around. “I can see you’re a homemaker, and I’m doubly determined to win your heart by showing you all the raw material I can give you to work on.”
“Your houses.”
“My houses,” he confirmed.
She couldn’t pretend her heart didn’t rush with excitement at that thought. “A homemaker?” She glanced around. She supposed it was true. Her bed-sit was tiny and modest, but it was warm and comfy and safe, and full of all the things she loved, but for Alexei to see that meant a lot.
“Could you do the same for me?” he asked.
“If you want to build a home like this, you’ll have to share the work, but I can tell you what to do—”
“That sounds about right,” he agreed, grabbing her close. “So, what’s your answer?”
“What’s the question?”
“Provocative woman! Will you marry me, Amber Smith?”
