Page 41 of The First Deal

“I’m public with you. You’re the one that I want.” He dipped his head, his lips almost touching mine. “Cariño,” he purred, “I promise you: I have not touched her since that one afternoon before Rome. I have not thought about her in that way, I have not been tempted, or for a single second considered a life with her since I accepted that you were what I truly wanted. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t wonder if I was destined to end up with her before you broke down my walls, but—”

“She brought up the deal.”

He groaned. “That deal was stupid. I’m a man of my word, but in this situation, I will take it all back, turn on my own morals, cut off my oldest friend, and follow the woman I love.”

“You what?”

“I love,” he repeated, his breath warm against my lips.

And then he was dropping to the floor, his knee cracking as he went down. The bag from the table was in his hand, and he was pulling out a small, velvet box.

I took a step back, but he caught my thigh with his free hand, holding me in place.

“Hannah,” he croaked.

“No,” I said, eyes wide and wild. “Nope. You’re not doing—”

“Woman, be quiet.” He cut me off, grinning wide as he opened the box and revealed a stunning teardrop diamond, set in a white gold, diamond-encrusted band. “Cariño, you are the one for me, you accepted me and my life for what it is. You opened me up when no one could. Will you marry me?”

“No, I bloody won’t,” I exclaimed, shaking my head, trying to make the huge ring disappear from my sight. “This is madness. It’s too soon. We’ve only just decided to be exclusive,public. Fucking hell, Rex. You can’t be serious about this? I’m wearing overalls, I’m a sweaty mess, and were standing in a bar. The bar where I work.”

He snorted, not put off at all by my refusal, then got to his feet, the ring box still open in his hand.

He ran his free hand over the table. “I wouldn’t do this anywhere else. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. And no, it’s not too soon, it’s just right.”

“How can you say that?” I managed a step back.

“Because I know what I want. I know that it’s you.” His gaze locked on mine; eyes so filled with warmth.

“Why here?” It was all I could say. He was so determined.

Shane laughed, still running his hand over the table. “This is the place we first met. This is the table I was sitting at when you walked into my life. Do you recall what you said to me?”

“Nope.” A lie, of course, I remembered. A cheesy line that I had never used before. My shamefully awful attempt at flirting.

“Liar.” He could see straight through me.

“Fine. I asked you what your poison was,” I admitted, putting my hand on my hip. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

He grinned like I was missing something. “Ask me again.”

Rolling my eyes now, I went along with whatever he was trying to do. “What’s your poison?”

“You.”

Jesus-fucking-Christ.

I melted. My heart stuttered. My knees buckled, and I grabbed the table for support.

“You,” he said again—low, growly.

“You.” Once more, but this time needy. This time his gaze softened, brows arched. “It’s you. You are my poison, Cariño. And don’t ever want to find the antidote.”

I looked at the ring, then his face. I mulled over his words; the proposal speech, followed by the mirror of our first interaction.

It was madness, I stood by that. But perhaps if I was his poison, he was mine, and perhaps a side effect of what we had was madness.

“I still think this is crazy,” I whispered.

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