I turn to him, totally clueless as to what I should say. “Roman, I… you didn’t have to?—”
He shakes his head. “I did,” he interrupts gently. “Because you chose me. Because you chose my son. Because you chose a future with us in it.”
My heart clenches.
“And there is more,” he says, gesturing toward my desk and a manila folder sitting on top.
“Sit,” he says.
I do, watching as he steps over to the desk and retrieves the folder, bringing it to me. I open it, not sure what to expect.
“Legal documents?” I look up at him, then review them.
They are very precise and packed with legalese. There’s not much I understand other than “trust,” “Barinov Holdings,” and my name.
My head snaps up when I realize what I’m looking at. “This is?—”
“It’s a trust I created, in your name, with some of the profits from the IPO. This is yours, to do with as you see fit.”
My jaw nearly hits the floor when I turn the page and land on the value. “Roman, this?—”
He raises his hand. “Is yours. Not another word. I wanted you to have something all to yourself. And if you ask me, that money was earned—this IPO would not have gone through without you.And you don’t need to worry about your mother’s medical bills, either. Those were handled this morning.”
“How did you…” I trail off. It’s a silly question to ask. It’s Roman. Of course he would know about her outstanding medical bills.
All the same, that does it. Tears spill out before I can stop them.
“I never asked for…”
“I know. But that doesn’t matter. This is your life now, should you want it.” He takes the folder and places it back on the desk. “Please, take time with a lawyer tomorrow and learn what’s here before you sign. I want you completely informed.”
He turns with something new in his hand. “There is something else I want to ask you, something I would like a more immediate answer to.”
He steps closer, in his hand a small velvet box.
My heart stutters.
Roman lowers himself to one knee. “Amalie Denning. I love you. I am goddamned ashamed that it’s taken me so long to say those words. I promise you that I will never hold back saying them again. I cannot predict the future, my love, but I can tell you this—you will never face it alone. Will you marry me?”
He opens the box. The ring is simple, elegant, perfect.
I’m crying and laughing a little now, nodding before the word is spoken. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, Roman. Of course I will.”
He stands and pulls me into his arms, kissing me with the passion of knowing this is the beginning of something new and wonderful.
The kiss is soft at first, then deepens. Roman lifts me with effortless strength, setting me on the edge of the wide worktable. My legs part and he steps in between them, hands framing my face.
“I love you,” he says.
“And I love you.” God, it feels so good, so right to say.
His hands slide down my sides reverently, urgently. My dress is pushed up, panties pulled down. He drops to his knees again, but for a different purpose altogether, one that puts a devilish little grin on my lips.
His tongue finds me in that perfect way it always does, tracing every fold with adoration. I gasp, slipping my fingers into his hair. Roman licks deeper, sucking on my clit just the way I like it, the rhythm building.
“I want to taste you every day for the rest of my life,” he growls against my thigh. “And I will never tire of it.”
Two fingers slide inside just right, curling and hitting that perfect place. Pleasure coils, and before I know it I’m right on the cusp of orgasm.
