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‘What about this place? You wanted that?’
He nodded. ‘I did. But not any more. In fact, as of yesterday, I don’t even own it.’
Seeing the confusion and fear in her eyes, he shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. The new owner wants it left just as it is.’
‘How do you know?’ she said s
hakily. He smiled.
‘Because she told me she wouldn’t let me turn it into some “ghastly boutique hotel for loud, sweaty, tourists”!’ Flora gasped.
‘What have you done?’ she whispered.
‘I’ve signed this place over to you—’
‘But— Is that why you’re here?’ Her hands gripped the front of his shirt. He shook his head, his eyes suddenly too bright.
‘No. I came back to wait for you. And to do what I should have done when you told me you loved me.’
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small square box and, opening it, he held it out to her. It was a beautiful diamond ring, edged with sapphires.
‘I want you to be my wife, Flora. And I want this to be our home. Some of the time, anyway.’
Searching his face, Flora felt her heart contract. There was no anger or bitterness or doubt. He looked happy and utterly assured.
‘Will you marry me?’ he said softly, taking her hand in his.
She stared at the ring fiercely. For so long marriage had represented everything she feared most.
But now, looking into his unguarded face, she was no longer afraid to hope or to believe in love.
Smiling up at him, she nodded, and he slid the ring smoothly onto her finger. And then his mouth came down on hers and he kissed her with a passion that was hotter and fiercer than the Sardinian sun.
Finally, they broke apart. Looking up, she knew that the expression on his face exactly matched the way she was feeling and then, loosening his grip, he glanced down at her and frowned.
‘Is that my shirt?’
She shrugged ‘I might have found it in your wardrobe.’
She watched his eyes glitter with amusement, and something dark and warm that sent shivers of longing dancing down her spine.
‘I think the word you’re looking for, cara, is stole!’
Her insides quivered as with slow deliberation he slid his hand beneath the shirt.
‘I found it. So now it’s mine. Possession is nine-tenths of the law!’
Suddenly the intensity in his eyes matched the probing pressure of his touch.
‘I wouldn’t argue with that!’
She stared at him, her skin prickling. ‘You wouldn’t?’
He shook his head, his hand curling possessively around her hipbone. ‘No. You see, I found you in my garden. Which is now your garden. That means I’m yours. And you’re mine. All mine.’
‘What about the other tenth?’ she whispered.
He smiled that slow, sweet smile again and her pulse began to race as she felt the soft, probing progress of his fingers over her bare skin.
