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“Yeah, but not the kind that light up the sky.”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her. Her lips are sweet. She tastes of the Christmas pudding and custard we had for dessert. I’ll never get tired of kissing this woman.
“Look at us, back where it all started.”
She rests her cheek against my chest. “At least you aren’t lying on the floor this time.”
“Always a bonus.” I chuckle. “You know, when I opened my eyes, you were like an angel hovering over me. There was a halo of light behind your head. I did actually wonder for a second whether I was dead.”
“Well, that made two of us. But I’m definitely no angel. When I realised you weren’t dead, I did want to kill you for giving me such a fright.”
“That’s what happens when you gate crash parties,” I tease. “You never know what you’ll find.”
“In my admittedly very limited experience, I’m pretty sure finding a body on the floor isn’t typical. Who naps on the floor!?”
“I was tired.”
She looks at the old bed, repaired and still standing neatly made up in the corner, then up at me with a wicked glint in her eyes.
“Are you tired now?” she asks, curling her fingers against my chest.
“EEEEEEEEEKKKKKK! Muuuuuuum, it is snowiiiiinnnng!”
Anna’s shriek as she tears past the pool house door, dragging a now-toddling Belle by the hand behind her, prompts me to lean over and turn the key in the lock. Their footsteps thunder close but pass by as they gallop towards the house to make sure the news has landed with their mother.
Sera buries more deeply into my arms. I kiss the top of her head.
“I’m very much looking forward to telling them.”
“About what?” she murmurs.
“About the special present Santa left them.”
She looks up at me, her eyes twinkling. “Their cousin? Don’t be blaming Santa for that. That poor guy had nothing to do with it. This is entirely your work, Alistair Whyte.”
“What can I say?” I say, placing my palms gently on her belly. “I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”
“Oh, you are indeed,” she says with a wry laugh. She places her hands over mine. “The best present ever,” she murmurs. “Our Christmas miracle.”
She looks up at me. I bend my head, brushing my lips against hers. She reaches up and winds her arms round my neck, pressing her body to mine.
“Feel free to keep giving,” she whispers, grazing her teeth against my earlobe.
“Yeesh, those hormones. Can’t keep up. Just as well I’ve been doing extra cardio.”
I sink to my knees. My thumbs ease the hemline of her t-shirt up over her tummy, exposing the gentle swell of her stomach to my hungry gaze. Her sweet skin is hot under my mouth, and she fists her hands into my hair as I rain kisses where her expanded waistline presses against the denim of her jeans.
“Don’t stop,” she groans as I pull back to admire her. She wants me. Even with my baby in her belly, she can’t get enough of me. Her need for me hits me straight in the groin. My cock twitches, but I fight to control my body’s all too willing response to her siren call.
She looks down at me in frustrated impatience. Her dark eyes meet mine, blazing with desire. My heart squeezes with the love I feel for this woman. I’m already the luckiest guy in the world to have her here, under my hands, waiting for my touch, giving herself to me mind, body, and soul.
Can I ask for more?
“What are you doing?” she grumbles.
I take a deep breath.
“Seraphina Jones. You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met. I have loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, when you appeared above me like a Christmas angel. You are bossy, caring, funny, clever, loving and kind. And strict. Which I love. I am yours, heart and soul. And it would make me the happiest man in the world to be able to call you my wife. Sera, will you marry me?”
