Page 72 of The Proposal

When he gives me a cheeky wink, my eyes widen, which makes him chuckle. I know exactly what he’s referring to—me losing my virginity—and I can’t believe he said that out loud … in front of an audience.

I’m getting a smaller version of his tattoo on his left pectoral, but mine will be on my shoulder blade.Praying hands holding rosary beads.Like his, it will also be a tribute to my mother.

I’m not sure what kind of tattoo Dante is getting, but I’m sure I’ll love it. His ink is sexy.

By the time we arrive back home, the skin on my back is on fire. It feels stripped raw, but it turned out so good. I love it.

I still don’t know what Dante had done. His tattoo was finished before mine, and he kept his back to me while putting on his shirt. He then sat on a chair beside me and held my hand for the duration of my time. He leaned in to kiss my shoulder every time I flinched, which was sweet.

I pull my phone out of my bag and open the camera app. “Can you take a photo of my tattoo? I want to send it to my sister.”

“Sure, turn around.”

Dante gently slides the strap of my dress off my shoulder and brushes my hair to one side. When he’s done, he leans in and places a soft kiss right beside my tattoo. I love his sweet side; it’s a side I feel he reserves just for me.

I turn to face him and take the phone out of his hand. “Thank you. Are you going to show me yours?”

He casually lifts one shoulder. “Sure, if you want to see it.”

“Of course I do.”

He slides out of his suit jacket, drapes it over the back of the bar stool, and begins undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. When he draws the shirt open, I gasp. I was not expecting to see my name.

Arabella is styled in a large, bold font that spans the width of his upper chest, almost stretching from one shoulder to the next. The letters are thick, with strong black outlines, and the interior is filled with finer detail. The contrast between the bold lettering of my name and the softer, more detailed scrolls underneath balances the tattoo beautifully.

“You got my name permanently inked on you?” I ask, a combination of shock and awe lining my voice.

“Bellezza,” he answers, stepping in and sliding his arms around my waist. “Don’t sound so surprised. You’re my wife …my woman. It’s only logical I’d get your name inked on me.”

“It’s just …”

“This tattoo isn’t just ink; it’s my commitment to you. Iknow we didn’t have a conventional start, but I feel like we are getting there. My past might make you question things, but what we are building here is real … you’re the only one I want.”

“Oh, Dante,” I say, leaning in to place a soft kiss over my name. “I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Can I take a photo to send to Lucia?”

“Of course, and I’m glad you love it,” he replies as I hold up my phone and snap a picture. “I hope one day you can love the man too.”

This man.

My eyes flicker up to his face, locking with his. If things continue the way they are, I have no doubt that will happen. There are definitely feelings coming into play, and I like this softer version of him. The way he protects and cares for me. He’s nothing like the man I once perceived him to be.

“Thank you for coming with me to the airport this morning, for the distraction, the shots, the orgasms, and the tattoo.”

This has a smile curving his lips. “You’re welcome.”

When he heads into his office to make some calls, I text my sister.

Me: I know you’ll still be in the air, but I wanted to show you what I got after you left.

I attach the image of my tattoo first and press send.

Me: Look at the one Dante got … swoon.

When I pull up the image I took of his, tears burn the back of my eyes as I stare down at it. My fingertip glides over the letters of my name, and I’m suddenly hit with a realisation.

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