Page 163 of The Price of Scandal
“You were expecting my proposal?” he asked, eyebrows winging up in innocence.
“I woke up two months ago with you measuring my ring finger.”
“Read the agreement, Emily,” he insisted.
“You better have something pretty great up that tailored sleeve of yours,” I teased. “Or else I’m going to tell everyone that you’re only human after all.”
Helpfully, he shoved the papers upward until they were an inch from my nose. “Read, please.”
I cleared my throat, choosing a section at random.
“Both parties agree that marital disputes will be settled in the ring,” I read with a laugh. “The ring?”
“No hitting below the belt, love.” His eyes weren’t just warm, they were scorching. “Keep going.”
With a slightly shakier voice, I pressed on. “Both parties agree to do everything in their power to love, honor, and support the other including but not limited to date nights, enjoying occasional meals during which no work is discussed by either party, counseling or mediation if needed if conflicts aren’t settled in the ring.”
“Derek promises to keep annoying business and social functions to a minimum for Emily.”
“Emily promises to always let Derek cut her hair.”
“Derek promises to fill Emily’s dining room table on holidays,” I read, my voice breaking. I loved this man beyond words.
He took the papers from me. “Emily promises to always tell Derek when she’s stressed and what she needs from him,” he read, with one hand stroking my back.
I blinked back tears.
“Both parties agree to do whatever it takes to stay together and to fulfill each other’s dreams,” he said, his voice raspy now.
“This will never hold up in court,” I said on a choked laugh.
“It’s not for court. It’s for a much stricter judge,” Derek said, drawing me into his arms. “Us.”
“I love you, Derek,” I whispered.
“And I love you, Emily. You continue to dazzle me every day. Now, would you like to see your signing bonus?”
He plucked the box from the table.
“Wait,” I said. “I have a signing bonus of my own.”
“What’s that, love?”
“How do you feel about being a father?”
“I’ll be thoroughly excited when the time comes,” he promised. “I want a family with you, Emily. I want to raise a new generation of pick-pocketing scientists.”
“Good, because we’re going to get our first crack at parenthood in about thirty-six weeks.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“That’s what I was doing in here today,” I said, gesturing toward the microscope.
His brow furrowed. “Good God. You didn’t make us some sort of test tube clone baby, did you?”
I laughed. “Don’t be an incredibly handsome idiot. I just ran the blood test myself.”
