Page 34 of Her Sort of Scoundrel
“Did any of what I said make sense?”
He stroked a hand down her back, his green gaze bright and intense.
“I understood the bit about independence, but I’m a little confused about our houses,” he said softly. “Though I do like what you said about evenings.”
Fiona laughed and twined her arms around his neck. “Well, all of this is assuming that you do want to marry me.”
His hand at her lower back flexed, gripping her gown. His other clutched hard at her hip. She felt the tension take over his body, saw the shock on his handsome face.
Good heavens, she couldn’t have gotten this wrong.
“Dash?”
“You…said you did not wish to marry ever again.” He slackened his hold and took a step back so that he could look into her eyes. “You swore you’d never take a husband.”
“I thought you’d be pleased that I’d reconsidered.”
“Pleased?” He scoffed and broke into a breath-stealing smile. “My body feels ready to ascend to the heavens.”
“Don’t ascend yet,” Fiona demanded. “First, you must tell me if you agree to what I said.”
“I agree.”
“That was much too quick.”
He laughed, that low delicious rumble that she loved. “Feel my heart.” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I don’t think I could do anything slowly right now.”
She felt the fierce, erratic thud against her palm and a terrifying memory flashed through her mind. Leopold clutching at his chest.
Fiona reached down for Dash’s hand and pulled him toward the bench where she’d been sitting. She released him only long enough to arrange the blanket she’d been sitting on.
“Sit there,” she told him.
He obeyed instantly, and then reached for her.
“Wait,” she told him, drawing close to stand between his spread legs, her hands on his shoulders. “You should take a few deep breaths. Try to get your heart under control.”
“My heart is happily bursting, Fiona, because, if I understand correctly, you want to be my wife.”
Fiona stroked a thick wave of dark brown hair off his forehead and smiled down at him. “Only if that’s what you want too.”
He immediately stood, wrapping an arm around her, and spinning them around. Then he released her and got down on one knee.
Now it washerheart that danced a wild jig behind her ribs.
“Just so we’re clear,” he said in a husky tone that caused her toes to curl in her boots.
“Dash,” she breathed.
She’d told herself she’d never find herself here again. Never allow any man to think shemightwant him to get down on one knee. In imagining her future, she’d seen only freedom. Autonomy. Solitude.
But she hadn’t imagined Dash in her life again. And she hadn’t ever let herself hope for the kind of future they could have together.
“Marry me, Fiona. You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever known, the most beautiful and clever and kind.” He took a breath, then swallowed hard. “You’ve been my dearest friend, and when I think on the future, I can only imagine it with you.”
And that was the crux of it for Fiona too. She still wanted the autonomy to make her own choices, but she believed Dash was the one man who’d allow it and still love her—with all her flaws and foibles. He would support her, not try to control or silence her.
“Yes,” she said without a single doubt. “Yes!”
