Page 84 of Ice Cold Christmas
He stared into her eyes, and he lied, “Yes.” He choked down the lump in his throat. “I swear, you knew everything that mattered.”
Because the dark parts…they didn’t matter. Not any longer. His plans had changed. His life had changed. And maybe, just maybe, she would never, ever need to know the truth about him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You asked me to marry you.”
Victor’s broad back was to her as he poured the hot chocolate into a mug. A smiling Santa mug. Melody bet the mug didn’t belong to him. No way. The winking, smiling Santa was probably something else she’d brought to the house. Something he’d kept.
His broad back stiffened. “You were my fiancée.”
“I’m not talking about last year.” She stood in front of the large, marble island in the middle of the kitchen. “I’m talking about five minutes ago. Upstairs. In the bedroom.”
The hot chocolate had frothed, but he moved toward the refrigerator. Opened the door. Pulled out a can of whipped cream. “You always liked a little on top,” he said. “Told me it made the hot chocolate even better.” With a few twists of his hand, he sprayed the cream onto the hot chocolate. “There.” He even reached out and drizzled a few chocolate chips onto the top. “All done.” He brought the mug toward her.
She stared at it, and she wanted to cry. “Yes.”
“Uh, yes?”
Her gaze lifted to collide with his. “Yes, I will marry you. You asked me five minutes ago. Or maybe you told me. Hard to say for sure because the words didn’t really sound like a question.” They had not. And, now, he was just staring at her, with those sexy lips of his slightly parted as stubble covered his hard jaw. “Um, you know,” Melody prompted, “when you were offering to fly me to Paris or jet me off to some private island.” She reached for the mug. Her fingers slid over his. She could feel the heat of the hot chocolate, but, more, she could feel the warmth of his touch.
“Melody…” If possible, his jaw hardened even more. “Baby, you don’t remember?—”
“I scream for you when I have nightmares.” Not just nightmares. When she’d been terrified—both in that cold, snowy hell from her past and earlier, when they’d been near the police station and the attacker had come at her, she’d screamed for Victor. “I scream for you because I know you’ll help me. I may not remember our time together, but the more I am around you, the more I know how I feel.”
He backed away.
Slowly, deliberately, she raised the hot chocolate as she kept her gaze on him.
“Be careful,” he rasped. “You don’t want to get burned.”
She brought the hot chocolate to her lips. And, being careful, she just lightly licked the whipped cream. Then she blew down, cooling the hot chocolate before she took a sip.
Utter perfection. “You know what I like.”
“Melody.”
“I like the way you say my name. I like the way you look at me.”
“You told me that when you saw me at the estate, you were afraid.”
Another careful sip. Another lick of the whipped cream. Delicious. “I’m still afraid.”
“And yet, you say you’re going to marry me?”
Yes. “For a year, I felt like I was frozen on the inside. And with you, in such a short time, I’m coming alive again.” It was like waking up. Did that even make sense? “I’m afraid that I will lose you, I will lose the me that I’m finding, and I’ll go back to the ice.” Another sip. Then deliberately, she put down the mug of hot chocolate. “I don’t want to lose you. Not ever again. So, yes, I’ll marry you. As soon as possible. Because I may not know everything about my life before that snowy hell.” A mocking laugh escaped her. “Everything is certainly a stretch, huh?” Because she barely knew anything. The smile left her. “But I know I was desperate to get back home, and I think it was because I was desperate to get back to you.” She squared her shoulders. “I love you, Victor Alexander.”
His dark eyes burned with intensity, but his hands clenched. His body tensed.
“Um, I kind of thought you’d have more of a reaction.” Her own hands twisted in front of her. She’d hoped for the kind of reaction where he rushed to her, swept her into his arms, and kissed her as if his very life depended on the task.
“I’m trying not to jump you.”
Relief swept through her. Now, that was better. But… “Why are you doing that? I want you to jump me.”
He lunged forward. His mouth took hers. Warm. Hard. Possessive and strong. Devouring and delighting, and joy filled her. Real joy. The kind that she hadn’t felt since—well, she had no clue. But joy pumped in her blood as she wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her tightly against him. Then he lifted her up with that sexy strength of his that seemed so effortless, and Victor carried her. Not too far, though. Only a few steps.
He put her down on the kitchen table. A big, sturdy, white, farmhouse table. The bottom of her nightgown hiked up, barely skimming the tops of her thighs, and his finger slid under the material, working up higher and higher until he touched her sex.
