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I don’t deserve the wine. Someone else should have it. Someone worthy of a fairy tale wine castle. I’m the troll who waits by the gate to holler at passersby and tip over wagons.Argh.
My clothes are completely ruined, but Roger assured me there’s a closet full of options ready and waiting, plus a shopping trip in our future. He’s given me so much, and I’ve given him a cellar full of broken bottles in return.
I scrub hard, trying to wash the foolishness away, but to no avail. My embarrassment knows no bounds. Sure, he didn’t seem to mind, and even went so far as to laugh with me, but that can’t possibly be true.
I emerge from the shower feeling worse than before, which is a feat considering any shower usually makes me deliriously happy, and horny, thinking of my time with Roger. Grabbing a silk, black robe Roger laid out for me, I open the door, ready to apologize.
“Roger, I wanted to —” I stop dead in my tracks. Roger is kneeling in front of me. At first, I think something must be terribly wrong, maybe he hurt his foot on the broken glass or something. But then, I see what he’s holding.
“Natalie,” Roger asks, his blue eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen them. “My amazing, wine-smashing, hotel-chasing, powerful, brilliant, sexy woman, will you marry me?” I stand there for a moment with my mouth open.
“You mean me?” I squeak and point to my chest. Roger laughs and opens the ring box.Holy shit.The ring is gorgeous, dazzling andhuge.
“Yes, Natalie, you. I want you.” Roger looks at me expectantly and proffers the ring box. His face starts to turn as he stares at me. “Natalie…?”
“Oh God, YES!” I finally shout and Roger’s worry fades to relief. I rush closer to him and help him slip the ring on my finger.A perfect fit.I have no idea how he knew my ring size, but that’s a question for another time.
For now, I want to devour him, to hold him so close even an entire destroyed wine room can’t stand in the way of how much we love each other. The tears start to fall, and even Roger’s eyes are brimming.
I throw myself into his arms and he holds me, swaying as I listen to his heartbeat. “Thank you,” I whisper and look at my ring. Dear God, it’s gorgeous.
“Now, how about we celebrate with a little wine, huh? Well, the only wine…” I groan and Roger laughs, taking my hand to lead me to the kitchen. He has the wine and glasses set up, a dozen roses and even candles.
Goddamn, when did he set this up? How long was my shower anyway? I’m on the verge of tears again when Roger kisses me, our lips caressing each other’s hungrily. I’ve never been happier in my life, than right here, right now, with this man at my lips.
“Mmm, is it just me or does kissing my fiancée taste even better than kissing my scandalous tabloid lover?” Roger jokes as he kisses my nose. I take my wine glass and hold it to him. He smiles and grabs his.
“Now what do we toast to?” he asks and I think back on all the times we’ve done so before. That horrible day when he took me to lunch, our first night, in my penthouse and his.
“Actually…” he says, as he takes a step closer to me, “I’ve got one, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I laugh and prepare my glass.
Roger slides his hand up my waist, feeling the silk robe against my curves. “To the future Mrs. Zane, and the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived.”
I laugh and smile at him clinking my glass against his.
“Perfect.” We both take a drink and relish how wonderful it tastes. But, to be honest, I can hardly think about floral notes at a time like this. I set my glass, giving him a meaningful stare.
I step back from him and untie my robe, letting it slip off my shoulders to the floor. Hmm. We’ve never fucked in the kitchen before, have we?
