Sofia rode out to meet him, by which time he’d lit a fire and their meal was cooking, though the most important ingredient had just arrived.
‘Cesar!’ she exclaimed as she dismounted. ‘What have you done?’
‘Brought an easel and paints along to join us. I thought you might be missing your painting, and there’s nothing more beautiful than sunset at the river. I thought you could sketch an outline, and maybe finish the painting before you leave for Isla Ardente. That way you can hang the painting anywhere you choose—here, or in my house on the island.’
‘You mean you’d seriously hang my painting in your ranch house?’
His lips pressed down as he pretended to consider this. ‘If it’s any good.’ And when she cuffed him, he added, ‘It could be your ranch house if you agree to become my wife.’ She stared at the easel and paints, and then at him. ‘Do I get a second chance to make this right?’
‘Nothing could make me happier...’ she breathed, eyes wide, lips parted seductively ‘...than a reunion with my easel and paints.’
A laugh cracked out of him. ‘Touché!’
‘But seriously,’ she added, ‘this really does make me happy. Thank you.’
She looked beautiful. Her hair was loose, wild and tangled after her ride, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She’d dressed for a picnic in casual clothes—a cotton shirt in a faded check print tucked into a pair of clean jeans.
‘You didn’t need to do all this. You still don’t,’ she said. ‘Putting things back to normal with my brothers is more than enough for me. I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done.’
‘I don’t want your thanks any more than you want lavish gifts. All I want is your hand in marriage, for no better reason than I love you.’
‘Nicely put,’ she teased, but the smile on her face was one of pure happiness. And then she dropped a bombshell. ‘Though we don’t have to get married. You do know that, don’t you?’
His gut clenched. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that you silenced the gossips when you exposed Howard Blake and his accomplice Dom. Your country applauds you, your mother has never doubted you, and I... I only want you to be happy.’
‘Without you?’ He frowned. No. No. No. This was supposed to be perfect. An evening together in a glorious setting, away from all distractions was their chance to put the past behind them, to discard it like an old notebook crammed full of notes that were meaningless now so they could start again on a clean sheet.
‘We do have to get married,’ he argued quietly, feeling as if his entire existence depended on his next few words. ‘I can’t live without you. I don’t want to try.’
‘You mean it, don’t you?’ she asked him softly.
‘Every word,’ he stated firmly. ‘If you can see this as base camp, we’ll start our journey here. I can’t promise there won’t be difficulties along the way but we’ll get through them. Are you up for starting tonight? See where it takes us?’
Sofia didn’t speak for the longest few seconds of his life, during which the road ahead of him loomed bleakly at the prospect that she might say no.
‘I’d be honoured to accept your proposal, on the understanding that this is a true partnership.’
‘Of equals,’ he confirmed.
‘In that case...’
‘Kiss me?’ he suggested.
‘What’s keeping you?’
The meal was singed to a cinder by the time he had answered that question. Fortunately, his chefs had left him well prepared, and Sofia declared the remaining food some of the best she had ever tasted.
‘And you prepared all this yourself?’ she exclaimed with approval.
He would start as he intended to continue—with the truth. ‘I put my name to it,’ he admitted, staring up through half-closed eyes. ‘I also warmed it up, which took a certain degree of skill.’
‘Save your skill for the bedroom,’ Sofia scolded.
He would, but restraint was killing him.
‘Please thank your chefs from me, and tell them the food was delicious.’
