Geno shook his head, and the door was closed immediately. He leaned forward and knocked on the privacy window. At once it came down and their driver turned her head. “Alice, would you mind stepping out of the car and giving us complete privacy?”
“Of course, Mr. Ferraro.” Alice immediately vacated the vehicle, leaving them alone.
“The ring isn’t a prop to me,la mia danzatrice ombra.”
Now she was so nervous her mouth was dry, and her chest hurt. She wanted to disappear into the shadows and never emerge.
“Everyone’s waiting, Geno. We should do this another time.” Her voice was shaky, not at all like her usual confident self.
“Amaranthe. They can wait forever. We can turn around and go home if you prefer. This isn’t about them. It’s about us.”
There was that gentle voice again. This time he caught her chin and tilted her face up toward his. He waited until her eyes met his. The impact was both breathtaking and intense when he was wholly focused on her.
She swallowed the terror rising up to overwhelm her. She didn’t know how to do personal. “This is about baiting a trap for those who are killing shadow riders.”
The pad of his thumb swept over her lower lip, and he shook his head, still looking into her eyes. “This isn’t about that for me. This is about us. You and me. Our engagement. I meant my proposal. I want you to marry me. I wantyou, Amara. I think we’re good together. I believe we fit. I hope you want me just as much.”
She did want him. She just didn’t know what to do with him. She had nice clothes; she didn’t have his kind of nice clothes until he had bought them for her. She didn’t have his kind of jewelry until he had provided several pieces for her. She didn’t want to be in a relationship where she couldn’t be a full partner. What did she bring to the table for Geno?
She didn’t run in his circles. Yes, she danced in theballet, but she moved around too much to ever play for a big company. She received amazing reviews, but was never going to have that career, not when she was a shadow rider first—and she meant what she told Geno: she would always be a shadow rider first.
She didn’t realize she was shaking her head until he framed her face with his large hands, stilling the movement.
“Baby, please just listen to me,” Geno continued. “Hear me out. I don’t want this just to be a role for you to play. I want you to feel comfortable as my fiancée. You were born to be with me. I was born to be your man. I’ve always known things. This is the strongest intuitive reaction I’ve ever had. Just tell me what you need to make you know it, too.”
Amaranthe had expected him to be far older. She’d thought Stefano would be older as well. Having to be responsible for the riders and the territories from such a young age had made them both seem older, but they weren’t. Physical age didn’t matter. Geno was an old soul. It was there in his eyes, and she felt it when he weighed his answers before he spoke. He didn’t think the way a young person would. He wasn’t selfish in his thinking.
“You didn’t ask me to marry you, Geno. Not really. I couldn’t tell if you really wanted to marry me for me or to ensure the shadow-riding line. Or just to play this role so we could catch these murderers.”
“It wasn’t to play a role, and if we never have children, Amara, I’ll be fine with that. I want you for yourself.”
He sounded truthful. His voice was quiet but determined. His gaze didn’t waver from hers. He could mesmerize her with those dark blue eyes.
“Do you want children?”
“With you?” He nodded. “I’m all about family. My brothers, my cousins. Mostly, now, I’m all about you. If you don’t want to meet with everyone here now, we’ll wait until you’re ready. Amaranthe, this is for us. Our beginning. It isn’t just a sham to catch murderers. We’ll do that as well, but our beginning doesn’t have to be that.”
It felt as if her heart somersaulted. She reached up to frame his jaw with her hand. Who knew a man as dangerous and lethal as Geno Ferraro could be so intuitive? So caring?
“I want children,” she admitted. “I want you to ask me properly, and I want you to be very sure. I don’t want to marry someone who won’t love me. All my life I’ve been alone, Geno. I never thought I’d be with someone, but when I considered it, I knew it would have to be with someone who would love me for me. They had to see me, flaws and all. I don’t want you to think I’m ever going to be someone who sits on the sidelines, because I won’t be.”
“I see who you are very clearly, Amaranthe,” Geno said. “I’m looking right into your heart, and I see what I want. I hope you’re doing the same. I don’t think this car is the place to ask you to marry me properly, but if you want me to be on my knee, I’ll do it when I find the right opportunity. You have my word.”
The tension in her eased. Geno wasn’t playing a role. He meant when he said. He’d reassured her dozens of times, it seemed. She was the one without the confidence. She found herself searching his dark eyes. Ferraro eyes. They were dark, but not brown. Not black. They were actually blue, but so dark blue they looked black at times. He was a beautiful man, and he took her breath away.
She was never going to fit into his world. Never. But she would fit with him when they were alone. And as a rider, there were few her equal. She took a deep breath. Let it out. On sheer bravado, she made the commitment.
“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
She nodded, never looking away from his dark gaze. She did love his eyes. “I’m very sure. I’m not going to doubt us again.”
His smile was slow in climbing to his eyes, but when it reached them, it lit up the deep blue until her stomach began to perform loops and somersaults.
“You’re lethal to women, Geno.”
“Just to you, I promise.”
