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She turned around in his arms. Wrapping them around his neck and giving him the pout he loved. “Baby, please watch the swears around my mom.”
His lips pressed together. “I thought you liked me being who I am.”
“I do. I love it. Love you.”
“I love you too.” He was so quick to say it that she almost lost her train of thought. And it was more than the way he said it. The depth of feeling in his eyes always made her heart stutter. No one had ever loved her more. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t clean up his act, just a bit.
“Please, baby. For me.”
He arched his brow. “What will you give me if I do?”
She leaned forward, the side of her face resting against the soft shadow stubble of his, as she whispered in his ear. Giving him the sexy purr he loved, almost as much as he loved their sexy games. “Anything you want. Tell me, Hannibal Arroyo,” She licked his ear, and he groaned. “Tell me, what do you want?”
“This, only this.” He leaned down to claim her lips, but his hands fumbled with something. Distracting her until she pulled back.
Her words bubbling into laughter until she saw… “What are you…”
His eyes caught hers when they leaped to his. The sudden widening did nothing to stop the gloss sheening them. “Hannibal?”
“Marry me, Angel. Marry me and give me all of you for the rest of our lives. That’s all I want. All I’ll ever want.”
She gulped down the most enormous lump her throat had ever swallowed. It stopped all words from escaping and trapped the emotion swelling in her chest.
He tilted his head at her silence, and his brows drew together. “Am I doing it wrong? I know I should get down on one knee or something, but….”
“Yes,” she slammed her fist against his chest because all the emotion had to go somewhere. “Yes, dammit, yes.” She repeated because, dammit, now she couldn’t stop saying it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He shut the ‘yes’ stream down with another scorching, passionate kiss. The kiss ruffled her elegant French chignon,Christmas hair. But who cared? Not her. Not when her life just kept getting better and better.
“She said yes.” He shouted down the hallway.
“About damn time.” Goodness, was that her mother’s voice? And had she cursed? They both looked at each other and took a collective deep inhale that they exhaled into laughter.
“About damn time,” Hannibal repeated. About. Damn. Time.
