Page 113 of Dearest Protector

But this was no joke.

He was real.

He was here with me.

And most importantly, he was mine.

“I want to make you happy, Ben,” I murmured.

“Sweetheart, all you have to do is stay with me to accomplish that,” he said, amused.

I swatted him on the shoulder playfully. “I mean it. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve taken care of me. Now I want to take care of you.”

“I think you just did,” he teased.

I raised my head to look at him and saw nothing but contentment and love in his gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Thank you for loving me,” I said, my emotions raw. “And thank you for believing in me when I didn’t have faith in myself. You changed my entire life. Now I have more than one passion, and I don’t regret the fact that I can’t dance anymore. Well, not professionally anyway.”

I’d always feel the music, and that irresistible pull to move to that beat, but dancing with Ben as my partner was more satisfying than performing on stage.

Since all of the pieces had fallen together for me, I knew in my heart that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I was driven to create my artwork, and that compulsion was even stronger than dancing for me now.

He grinned. “I hope I’m listed as one of those passions.”

I stretched up and gave him a tender kiss before I said, “You’re not just my passion, Ben. You’re my everything.”

He was my soul and my heart.

“You’re my everything, too, Ariel,” he said like it was a pledge to me. “You always will be.”

I sighed.

Ben was a guy I’d never expected, but I knew he was the gift I’d cherish for the rest of my life.

Chapter 30

Ben

“Where exactly did you say we were going?” Ariel asked as she smiled at me from the seat next to mine.

She knew damn well that I’d never mentioned where we were going.

It was a surprise, but I was starting to rethink that idea right now.

What if this wasn’t what she wanted?

What if it wasn’t such a great surprise?

What if she was actually crushed by this particular trip?

Maybe I should have asked her first.

It wasn’t the first time she’d flown on my private jet in the last month, but it was the first time I was second-guessing our destination.

“Are we going back to your private island resort in the Bahamas again?” she questioned, her tone hopeful. “That place was amazing. I still can’t believe you’d never been there before. Who owns a private island in paradise and never goes there?”

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