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He kisses me hard at my confession. I gasp as our lips burn into each other, making deep impressions.
He steps back with a growl.
“Wait,” he says panting. “I need to say something else.”
I paw at my cheeks, my heart singing, my womb telling me this is it, this is it.
“Ruby, before I met you, I was broken. I didn’t even know I was broken. But I’ve never felt anything as deeply as my love for you. Not even close. I stopped believing I could, but then you came into my life… my angel, my princess. You came into my life and you changed everything. I love you. And I’ll never stop loving you, every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I love you too.” I’m unable to hold back the tears. They flow down my cheeks. “So much.”
“That’s why I need to make you mine. Truly mine.”
He falls to one knee and I completely freak out, waving my hands around without even knowing why.
So much happiness is moving through me I feel like I could pop like an overfilled balloon.
“Ruby McCarthy…” He reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a ring box, opening it to show a glittering diamond set within a white-gold band, big enough to make a statement and yet still remain elegant. “Will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I cry, hardly able to hold back my answer until he’s finished the question. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He takes my hand and slides the ring onto my finger, then leaps to his feet and pulls me into his arms.
We collapse against each other, kissing hungrily, desperately, clawing onto each other the same way we will for the rest of our lives.
We bond, we fuse, we become one.
“I love you so much,” I gasp between kisses.
“Always,” he breathes.
Epilogue
Rider
I sit on the balcony, looking down at the table where I’ve laid out the dining options for the wedding. When I proposed to my queen three weeks ago, I had no idea how involving wedding planning could actually be.
Not that I’m complaining.
Watching my woman light up with joy at every new stage of the process has ignited the same happiness in me, flowing through me like a balm, letting me know that I can finally drop the gruffness with which I’ve shielded myself and just be.
I smile as I look over the bewildering number of options.
I really need my fiancé out here to help with this.
It’s Sunday morning and we’ve started a tradition of eating breakfast together as we discuss wedding matters, but this morning she said she needed to run an errand and left the house quickly.
I’ve hired a top security firm to keep watch over her when I’m not with her – with her consent, of course – just until everything is done and dusted properly.
I’m not worried about her safety.
But even so, worry does flutter through me.
She had an anxious twist to her lips as she left, an unreadable shimmer in her eyes. It was new, different from the happiness that has taken possession of her every second of every day since we put the madness of the mob and the Cartel behind us.
I rise when I hear the front door open, moving through our apartment.
My body stirs as I gaze at her, my need not lessened even slightly. Every time I look at her I have to fight a battle not to pounce at her, tackle her, claim her right then, wherever the hell we are.
My cock aches as I drink in the sight of her wide hips trapped in tight-fitting jeans, her breasts round and tempting in her T-shirt, the strap of her bra teasing me through the fabric.
But then my gaze moves to her face and something shifts in me.
Her lips are twisted into something like a frown. I find it difficult to read.
“Princess?” I say, striding over to her.
I loop my arms around and pull her close to me, where she belongs.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, and yet there’s a shiver in her voice.
“Did you finish your mystery errand?” I ask.
She bites her lip, tempting me to fall into her, but despite the thrumming tension moving through me I somehow hold myself back.
“Yes. And… Oh, God, it’s so much to take in. It’s such a shock. I did three, all different brands, just to be sure.”
My heart starts to thunder in my chest, fresh waves of contentment pounding through me.
I want to roar out what I think it is.
But there’s no way I’d steal this moment from her.
“Ruby…”
She nods, as though she can sense the question nestled within the word. “I’m pregnant, Rider. I’m freaking pregnant.”
I let out a cheer of pure happiness, picking her up and spinning her around, trying to kiss her at the same time which proves too clumsy. I put her down and kiss her, growling through the hot mashing of our lips.
