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They leave, and Rowan works frantically in the kitchen. I close in behind her, lifting and twirling her to face me on the counter.
“You can’t pick me up! You’re injured,” she scolds.
We could go around and around about my condition for hours, and neither would agree. It’s time to move this shit along.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I brush my thumb along her cheek. “I’m not talking about this. You shot a man. You saw and heard some pretty gruesome events.”
Her face falls, and remorse fills her beautiful face. “I messed up.”
“How?”
“When we were here, Talon and that man were fighting. The gun flew, and I stared at it, not moving. If I’d have jumped into action, none of this would have happened.”
Her admission slices me like a fiery blade through my chest. “None of this is your fault. Wallace had a vendetta and was covering his ass. If anything, I didn’t protect you.”
Her eyes blaze brightly, her hand fisting my hair. “Don’t ever say that again. You’ve saved me three times. I’m not regretful about shooting that man. Because in that instant, when he was charging me, instincts kicked in. But when Kent held that gun to your throat, it was like a revelation hit. I knew I’d never recover if anything happened to you. You are my world.”
Fuck, the woman has my eyes stinging. “I’m not alright, Rowan.”
“You shouldn’t be. You’re hurt.”
“Those fuckers took something I’ve waited forever for.” I ease the ring out of my pocket and take her hand, sliding it on her finger. “You made me wait for it, and the only good thing that came out of that was being able to create this specifically for you.”
Her lips part, breath catching.
“Last night, I had a plan. They ruined it.”
“It’s not ruined.”
“Sitting on a kitchen counter, waiting on a debriefing with a house of cops and military intelligence isn’t romantic.”
She straightens, her eyes the baby blue hue that claimed my heart the day she was first attacked. “It’s the most romantic and beautiful thing that has ever happened to me.”
Her sincerity threatens to take me down. I swore I’d never give her the chance, but now the words come out before I can stop them. “Will you marry me, Rowan?”
Her smile is blinding and she bobs her head rapidly. “You know I will. The answer was always yes.”
I crash my mouth over hers, ignoring the singes of pain in my lips and jaw. She melts, twisting her tongue and stroking mine in rhythm. My dick hardens, pushing against the soft material of my pants and into the counter between us.
She whimpers down my throat, giving me deeper access. I take everything she’s giving, pouring it back.
The security system beeps, announcing a visitor, and I tear away, frustration racing through my bloodstream.
“Can’t I fuck my fiancée in peace?”
“Honey, we can’t have sex for a week.”
I squint at her, frustration ratcheting up. “Who said that?”
“Major told me you still may have internal injuries, and we had to wait.”
“He’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?” Major walks in the front, ushering Jewls in carefully.
