Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cole hadn’t truly slept since Mila had left on Monday. Theoretically he should be wired, caught up in speculation about her reaction to his notebook.
Instead he flipped off the lights, shucked his clothes and climbed into bed. He’d done his best to fix the problems he’d created. The next move was hers.
He woke from the deepest sleep he’d had in ages. Gray light filtered in through the windows. Christmas morning. First time in years he hadn’t been hung over on this day.
Stretching, he turned over. And froze.
Mila, a very naked and delicious looking Mila, was in his bed. Smiling at him. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”
“This better not be a dream.”
“It’s not a dream.” She traced his lips with the tip of her finger. “I’ve been here all night.”
“All night? Does Claudie know you’re here?”
“I left her a note and came up around ten, thinking we could talk, and all the lights were off. I was afraid you might be sitting in the dark, worrying about us. Clearly that wasn’t the case.”
“I was worried about us. But I haven’t been sleeping much, and after I gave you that notebook I just sort of crashed.”
“I’m glad you got a good night’s sleep. So did I.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve been here all night. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because you needed the rest and because I love you.” She ran her finger over his eyebrows. “I love your bushy eyebrows and your long lashes and the slope of your nose and your amazingly soft beard. Most of all I love your mouth.”
“That all sounds like a good reason to make your presence known when you climbed into my bed last night.”
“Whose bed?”
“My….” He gazed at her. “Our bed?”
“It has a nice ring to it. And speaking of rings, I notice you’re not wearing one.”
“I never saw the point.” Then he clued in to where she was headed. “Neither are you.”
“Not yet.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“Mila Bridger, are you trying to get me to propose?”
“Would I do such a thing?”
“No, you would not, and that’s why I’m thinking this really is a dream. You’ve made it clear you don’t know me well enough. I haven’t told you all the details of my past. That notebook was my lame attempt to give you at least some background, but?—”
“Did you beat him up the next Christmas Eve?”
For a moment the old rage burned in his chest, hot and fierce. As he gazed at Mila, it slowly faded. “Yes, I did.”
“Good.”
“He never touched me again.”
She cupped his cheek. “I know you well enough, mi amor. I know you’re strong and brave and a survivor. I could search the world and never find someone I could love the way I love you.”
Damn, this was a dream, after all. Two days ago he wouldn’t have given himself a chance in hell. And now she was making him sound like a fudging hero.
“Your only flaw, mi amor, is that you’re a little slow on the uptake, so I’ll just do it myself. Cole Sterling, will you marry me?”
