Page 138 of The Proposal

“What?”

“I agreed to marry you in exchange for his help.”

“You gave up your freedom to save your nephew?”

“Yes. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my family.”

“But you just admitted he’s not even a blood relative.”

“My brother claims him as his, and that’s good enough for me. Nobody in myFamigliais a blood relative, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t lay down my life for them. Lucia and I don’t share the same DNA, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t risk everything for her, either.”

“You would risk it all for my sister?”

“Yes, because she means everything to you,Bellezza.”

“Oh, Dante,” she whispers as her eyes well with tears.

I gently swipe the pad of my thumb across her cheek when one escapes. For some reason, her tears wreck me. I hate seeing her upset. “I’ll always protect the ones I love. That includes you, Arabella. You and our child are at the very top of my list.”

She shakes her head as more tears gather in her eyes. “I know you didn’t want to marry me in the beginning, and I hate that even more now that I know why you did it.”

“To be fair, you didn’t want to marry me either,” I reply, my voice low but firm. “What I did was not a sacrifice. It was a choice. A choice I made, and one I’d make again, a thousand times over. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,amore mio,don’t ever forget that.”

She slides her arms around my neck, tugging my lips down to hers. I can taste the saltiness of her tears as I deepen the kiss and groan into her mouth.

We are both panting by the time I draw back. “I have one more thing to say,” I growl.

“And that is?”

“If you ever mention a divorce again, we’re going to have a problem. I married you for life,Angelo.In sickness and health, for better or for worse,capire(Understand).”

“Capisco(I understand).”

“Good, now that we’ve got that settled,” I say as I reach behind me to grab a pillow, “it’s time for makeup sex.”

“I wouldn’t consider our discussion a fight.”

“We’re having makeup sex, Arabella,” I grumble.

A smile curves her lips as she raises her head off the pillow to peck my lips.

I throw back the covers and push up onto my knees. I offer her my hand and pull her up into a sitting position.

“Lift up,” I command as I reach for the hem of her nightgown.

Once I’ve tugged it over her head, she rolls onto her side and manoeuvres onto all fours. I recently banned her from wearing underwear to bed.

After carefully placing the pillow underneath her stomach for support, I move into position.

Her stomach has now become too big for me to be on top, and I worry that I’m too deep if it’s the other way around.

I hate that I’m not able to gaze into her pretty emerald eyes as I fuck her, but if this is the only way I can have my wife until our child is born, then I’m taking it. This position also means I can remain in control.

Arabella’s libido has been through the roof during her pregnancy. She’s always begging me to take her deeper, fuck her harder, but Chloe’s premature labour has remained forefront in my mind. As much as I want to give my wife everything she asks for, her and the baby’s safety will always be paramount.

I slip my hand between her legs as I lean forward to rest my torso against her back. I place a chaste kiss on her tattoo as my fingers glide through her slick heat.

Arabella kisses my tattoo—the one that bears her name—every single day. I know hers is a memorial to her mother, but I love it simply because it’s a carbon copy of mine.

---