He stepped closer. “Can I kiss you?”
Relief threatened her knees. She gave him a bright smile, happy that their argument seemed consigned to the past. His hands drifted over her hair, now highlighted with golden streaks and about four inches shorter. The hairdresser had also layered it to give shape and take out some of the weight. He smiled and leaned closer to rub their noses together before taking her mouth in a slow and thorough kiss.
“We need to talk,” he said eventually. “But I don’t want to spoil the rest of our weekend by arguing. No,” he said when she started to speak. “Let me just say this, then we’ll get back to the enjoying part. I want to be more than friends with you. I understand I’ve hurt you, and I need to make up for that. Let me prove to you how good we are together.”
“I don’t understand.” His kiss—so full of sensual promise—had addled her brain, making it difficult for her to concentrate.
“I know, sweetheart. I want to be your husband, and I’m willing to wait until you’re sure of me.”
“But—”
He placed his hand over her mouth to halt her confused words. “I need a shower. I decided to head back here after the game. Do you fancy a walk along the waterfront? We could have a drink at one of The Viaduct bars.”
“That sounds nice,” Yvonne said.
“Great. I won’t be long.”
Yvonne stared at his back as he sauntered away, her brow knit in bewilderment. He wanted to marry her? She’d thought…
Heck. Friends, yes. Sexual benefits, yes. But marriage?
She’d gone into her first marriage with blinkers firmly intact. Sure, she’d experienced happiness during those years and she had her sons, but the way her marriage had ended still played with her confidence. She found herself stalking to the bathroom.
“You want to marry me?” she demanded, bursting into the steamy warmth.
“Yes,” he said over the sound of the water.
Yvonne sank down onto the edge of the bath, the chill of the porcelain beneath her bottom and the brief flash of discomfort in her butt cheeks driving her to her feet again.
“Not right now, but in the future. Once you’ve realized I’m serious about you, about us and the boys. And maybe we could add a little girl to our family.”
“Oh.” She found herself biting her bottom lip and stopped. He hadn’t mentioned love. She opened her mouth to ask and reconsidered. No. She agreed with him about one thing. She wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend, and if he said he didn’t believe in love or some other such male thing, she might hit him. Thatwouldspoil the weekend.
He turned off the water and opened the door to snag a towel. “You really do look beautiful. I like your hair very much.”
Yvonne hugged the sincerity of his compliment to her heart. “It’s been a long time since anyone told me that.”
“Really? I’ve slipped up then. Because not only are you beautiful, but you’re sexy as hell. I’ve half a mind to drag you to bed and show you exactly how I feel about you.”
The pleasure in her deepened and took on an edge of sexual excitement. “You’re pretty sexy yourself, Mr. Penrith.”
“So I’m on a promise for later tonight?” His wide grin threatened her knee stability and she reached out to hold onto the door.
“Count on it,” she said and sashayed back to her cup of peppermint tea.
