Page 232 of Lovers' Dance

“And I want you to be my wife,” I stated, but my voice ended on a questioning lilt. This couldn’t be happening…it was happening.

Matt’s grey eyes glistened. “I don’t want you to be my wife, poppet.”

Sorry, what? He didn’t want…what sort of—

“I need you to be my wife. There’s a difference,” he said huskily. “I need you in my life, every day of my life. I need you to be mine, completely.”

Matt eased my left hand free and was about to put that exquisite ring on my hand when I yanked it back.

“Bloody hell, poppet,” he exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“I haven’t said yes,” I replied with a pounding heart. Matt asked me to marry him. Well, I asked Matt to ask me to—who said what didn’t matter. Oh my God. Matt wanted to marry me.

Matt nabbed my hand and slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly. “I already know your answer,” he murmured. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s my answer.”

I blinked at him. At least I was too shocked from this startling turn of events to cry. “What?”

Matt raised my left hand to his lips and kissed my bejewelled finger. “You came after me. You left your family, and I’m sorry because I know it must hurt you, but you chose me, poppet. You’re here, not there. That’s all the answer I need. I’m going to kiss you now.”

And he did. It was the sweetest kiss I’d had from him to date.

“Is your day improving?” he asked moments later, while I tried to catch my breath.

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking at the glinting ring on my left hand. “I’m waiting for you to tell me the requirements that go with being your fiancée. This ring does have a return period, doesn’t it?” I was trying to be humorous, seeing as my world had crashed around me earlier and was now slowly being rebuilt. One massive red diamond at a time. Jesus. How much had it cost? And could I convince him to exchange it for something less expensive? But he’d said it was made for me, and it did look fantastic on my hand. It was the most bittersweet moment of my adult life. The man I love had asked me to marry him, and I had no family left to share the news with. At least none that were willing to speak to me. That bridge had been razed, the earth beneath it salted. There was no going back for me.

Matt, regarding me closely, must have seen the sadness in my eyes because he said, “I’ll always be here for you, poppet. Whatever the future holds for us, know that I’ll be right here”—he linked his hand with mine—“holding on to you. Reminding you that you are not alone.”

I looked at our entwined hands and nodded slowly. Who would have thought that night he’d saved me we would end up here?

“I was right about you,” I said with conviction, as Matt wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of his lap.

“In what sense?” he asked, beginning to kiss the side of my face.

“You are a crazy gazillionaire,” I explained. He had to be, that was the only logical reason behind him proposing.

Matt laughed, a deep masculine laugh that lightened my underlying sadness. “I’ve told you before, gazillionaire isn’t an actual word, poppet.”

Matt quietly finished getting dressed, conscious of the tiny snores coming from the bed. The covers were halfway off the bed, and the morning light streaming through the open drapes danced playfully over her sleeping form. His eyes rested on her hand, flung haphazardly over his pillow and in possession of the ring he had given her. Amusement curled his mouth up. She always did that. Whenever he left their bed, she would immediately roll into the spot he’d vacated. It was endearing. His amusement withered away as he remembered their conversation over dinner the night before. Her dismay that she bravely tried to hide even though her eyes flinched at every mention of her family. It had been a shock finding her here yesterday afternoon. It had taken everything inside him to fight the instinctive urge of wrapping his arms around her and wiping those tears away. He never liked seeing her cry.

But his pride had been dealt a hard blow. A cruel blow. Making him painfully aware of the place she held in his heart and the gut-wrenching emptiness of potentially losing her, even if it was only for a few hours. Matt never wanted to experience those feelings again. His eyes rested on the ring gracing her dainty hand and he smiled. It hadn’t gone exactly the way he planned, but his ring was on her finger and those were the results he’d prayed for. She was his. Like the male of any species, he felt satisfaction at laying claim to his female, marking her so others would know she was off limits. She was spoken for, she was his. The flawless red diamond she wore was a bold and suitable notification to all that she was his intended.

Matt made his way over to the bed and bent down, brushing her wild curls off her face to reveal the smoothness of her cheek.

“Poppet,” he murmured after pressing the lightest of kisses across her skin.

“Mmm.” She snuggled further into the pillows.

“I’m heading out for a bit,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Mhmm.”

“I’ll be a few hours,” he advised as he reached over to tug the covers over her nakedness lest she get chilled. “Ryan will be outside. If you need anything, let him know.”

One brown eye opened as she squinted at him and asked in a sleep-laced voice, “Is that one of the requirements, hon?”

“Pardon?”

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