“I’m in love with you.”
Those words punch at my gut, my mouth dropping open. “Kitten,” I grate out, feeling things inside me tear.
“I don’t expect those words to change anything, but I wanted you to know all the same.” She nips at her lips, her eyes finally meeting mine.
Our feelings change everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. “I love you, too.”
The color drains from her face before she crawls back into my lap, curling up into a tight ball.
The silence stretches out between us, the beat of her heart thumping against my chest.
Neither of us is talking, because once again, we’re working opposite ends of circumstances.
She finally stirs in my arms. “Did you make it to your bridal event?”
“My what?”
“Your event…the one you lied to me about and told me was work.”
My chin jerks back. Marrying Katarina is going to be a real lesson. Because there is little that gets by her and even less that she won’t directly call me out on. “I did not have a bridal event today. I have already chosen a bride.”
“Oh,” she whispers. I feel the shiver that moves through her body. “I’m very happy for you.”
“And I only lied to protect you.”
“I don’t want lies.”
“Noted. If it makes you feel any better, I wish I hadn’t kept the truth from you. You would have been in far less danger if I’d told you the truth.”
“What’s the truth?”
“I went to meet your father.”
She sits up then, slapping my arm, the uninjured one. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”
“Because you make a habit of rushing headlong into danger.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I’d tell you that’s my problem, but I do recall you bailing me out of a few recent debacles.”
That makes my lips curl up. How does she manage to so easily pull a smile from my lips? I relax back on the couch, closing my eyes. “What do you want me to do about Sver?”
“I’d rather hear about this bride you’ve chosen,” she responds, sounding…hurt.
I open my eyes, a small chuckle falling from my lips. “I’ve chosen you.”
Her head whips back her eyes going wide. “What?”
My brow furrows. “You were there when I told him to report you as my fiancée.”
Her eyes are wide as her lips form a small O. “I know, but I just assumed it was a cover. Not you’re actual intention.”
“You are going to be my wife.”
That pulls her lips into a frown. “Win, it is customary to ask, not just…proclaim.”
That makes a full-on bark of laughter escape my lips, which hurts like hell. When I manage to stop, I look at the stunning woman on my lap, who matches me. Challenges me in ways I’d never dreamed possible. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she answers simply, leaning forward to kiss my lips. She tastes as good as she feels and if we weren’t both nursing bullet wounds, I’d make love to her right now. She lifts her head. “And now to discuss Sver.”
