“No,” Kingston said firmly, cupping her cheek with his hand. "It’s not about protection, Jaclyn. It’s about respect. I want to build something with you. Not just because we have been swept up in each other’s arms, but because you’re the one I want beside me. For all the years to come. You deserve that, and I would never leave you without it."
Her chest tightened, and despite the lingering doubt, she couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at his words. He was telling her, in his own way, that he wanted her—wanted to make a life with her. “No,” she said. “That isn’t enough for me. I won’t marry you.”
He pulled her into his arms and just the feel of him against her was almost enough to make her give in and say yes. She loved him so bloody much that it hurt that he did not feel the same way about her. “Yes,” he said. “You will.”
“No,” she reiterated. “I will not marry a man that doesn’t love me. Respect isn’t enough, Kingston.”
He sighed and then pressed his lips to hers. “My darling,” he said hoarsely. "I do love you," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. “I have never loved a woman the way I do you. I would be lost without you. Don’t you know,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “There is no me without you. Please do not let me live a half of a life. I cannot be completely me without you.”
And in that moment, the world seemed to still. Jaclyn could feel the truth in his words, the sincerity in his touch, and though her mind was still filled with questions, her heart knew what it wanted. “You love me?” she murmured, meeting his gaze.
“I do,” he told her and brushed his hand through her tangled curls. “Now tell me you will agree to be my wife. We have an appointment with the blacksmith in an hour.” And with that, the tension between them lifted, leaving only the warmth of their love that had begun to grow between them, whether they had realized it or not.
“Yes,” she told him. “I will marry you. I don’t want to live my life without you either.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice steady. “Not now. Not ever.”
Jaclyn’s heart leapt in her chest, and for the first time, she felt truly seen, truly loved. And perhaps, just perhaps, their future together was worth everything they had endured to get here. She hugged herself against him and reveled in the knowledge that he loved her. That he wanted her. They had this future together that had seemed impossible before. But now… There were so many possibilities.
He pulled away from her and left her alone in the bed. She felt the loss of the warmth as he departed and wanted to beg him to come back. But it was unnecessary. He reached into his discarded coat and pulled out a ring and presented it to her.
The ring was a delicate yet striking piece of jewelry. The setting was composed of rich, polished gold. At the heart of the ring was a stunning green stone, perhaps an emerald or a rare green sapphire, cut in a classic oval shape. The stone caught the light, its deep hue radiating with an almost ethereal glow, evoking the lush greenery of a forgotten garden in full bloom. Around the stone, delicate filigree work wound in an intricate pattern, the tendrils of gold weaving a soft and elegant frame. Tiny diamonds and small pearls were set along the edges, enhancing the stone’s brilliance while adding subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and Kingston was presenting it to her. “This was my grandmother’s betrothal ring,” he told her. “If you do not like it, we can get you another, but I would like you to have it. Will you be my wife?”
“I already said yes,” she said breathlessly. “Of course, I will be your wife. There isn’t anything I want more.” He slid the ring on her finger and her heart leapt with joy. He loved her. He wanted her. This was not a dream but her future. The one she never fully believed she could have. He leaned down and kissed her.
“Then get out of this bed, love. We have a wedding to attend.” His lips twitched. “We can always spend the rest of the day in bed afterward. But I insist you’re my wife first.”
Jaclyn’s heart fluttered at his words, a joy so overwhelming it made her breathless. Her fingers trembled slightly as she glanced down at the ring that now rested on her hand, the delicate band sparkling in the soft morning light. His grandmother’s betrothal ring. The weight of its history, its sentiment, and the love he had just offered her all settled into her heart like a warm embrace. It was more than a ring—it was a symbol of everything she had longed for but never quite dared to believe she deserved.
Kingston’s eyes were soft, his expression tender yet filled with an undeniable hunger that made her pulse race. His gaze held hers, intense and full of the promise that had always been there, simmering just beneath the surface.
“If you insist,” she teased. “But you must act the part of my lady’s maid again and help me with my gown.”
“It will be my pleasure,” he reassured her. “And it will be my pleasure to help you remove that gown again later.” He winked. Her blood heated at his playful words, and she almost demanded he take her back to bed again. But he was right. They should take care of that pesky wedding first. She did want to be his wife.
Kingston leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was deep, rich with promises, with everything he had silently conveyed to her in that simple gesture. She melted into it, the kiss so much more than just passion. It was love. It was the beginning of everything they would share together. He pulled back slowly, his expression teasing yet full of affection. “Quit dawdling, love,” he murmured, his lips twitching in that devilish grin she had come to adore. “I would hate to be late to our own wedding.”
Jaclyn’s heart leapt at the mention of the wedding—their wedding, the one she had only dreamed of in the quiet hours when she thought no one could hear her wishes. But she knew what he meant. He wasn’t simply referring to the formalities that would seal their bond. He was referring to the promise of a life that stretched beyond that moment. “That would be a travesty,” she added, her voice filled with mischief. “It is one appointment I do not think we should miss.”
He lifted her from the bed and carried her to the center of the room and set her down. “As lovely as you are without that gown of yours,” he said, “you need to put it on.” He slid her shift over her head and sighed. “It is such a shame to cover up all that beauty.”
She lifted a brow. “You do want to marry me, do you not?”
“I do,” he said. “But I am considering if we really need to…”
“If that is how you feel you never should have proposed,” she told him. “Now I must insist you keep that promise.” She trailed a finger over his bare chest. “You did say we could spend the day in bed afterward.”
“I did,” he agreed. “And I do not plan on letting you leave it for a long while. I do hope you are prepared for my needs.” He leaned down and whispered, “They are endless.”
She laughed, breathless and giddy, a sound so pure and full of joy that she couldn’t remember ever laughing like that before. “You’re insufferable,” she teased, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and warmth. But she knew, deep down, it was everything she had ever wanted. Everything she had ever dreamed of, and now it was here.
“I’m yours,” he said, his voice steady, the words sincere, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause around them, leaving just the two of them in this bubble of perfect happiness. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and smiled, the look in his eyes full of affection and something deeper, something that spoke of their future together.
“I’m yours, too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but full of the promise she would keep forever.
With a soft sigh of contentment, she picked up her gown and stepped into it, then turned so he could fasten the buttons. This almost seemed surreal that he truly did love her, and this love, this life, was truly hers now. Soon she would be his wife, and she would have everything she had ever wanted.
Nineteen
