His lips brushed my jaw, down my neck to my shoulder, and back up again.
My breaths came in wisps. “Charlie,” I breathed.
“I love you,” he said into my jaw. “Like I’ve never loved anyone else in all my life. You are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t care where I live or what I do as long as I have you.”
I swallowed hard and pulled back to see the sincerity in his eyes. He loved me. He wanted me. This incredible man whose broken heart had healed into something more beautiful with its imperfections than in its original form. His hands held my waist, and mine rested on his chest.
I leaned my forehead against his. “I love you, too,” I whispered. “Only you, Charlie.”
He pulled back with fire and urgency in his eyes. “I have no title to offer you. I am no duke. But what I have is yours to mold however you want it. I have a pond.” He kissed my temple. “And I can build you a changing room.”
I laughed, and then I realized I was crying.
“Our cook is exceptional. You shall never want for sweets.”
“Charlie.” I pulled him close and kissed him deep.
“Say you’ll marry me. Say yes.”
I hesitated just long enough to tease him, then said, “Of course I will.”
He growled and laughed and lifted me into the air, spinning me around and laughing more. “Yes?”
“Yes!” I laughed into his neck. But then I realized he waslifting me. “Charlie!”
“What?” He stopped abruptly. Quickly enough to trip backward and, in that same breath, we were falling in a heap together onto the settee. He caught me in his lap and pulled me close. His arms again found my waist.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, tightening his hold.
“Me?” I chided him. I wrapped my arms around his neck both to steady myself and to be as close to Charlie as I could. Being in his arms, enveloped in his strength, felt like swimming, so free and so weightless. “You cannot lift me with your wounds so fresh!”
“I can when the woman I love agrees to marry me.” He nuzzled my neck, his breath tickling my skin and heating every inch of me.
I sucked in a breath of surprise. “No more lifting.”
He pulled back and kissed my cheek. “For one more week.” Then my lips. Then the corner of my mouth.
I smiled and leaned into his kiss. “Upon the surgeon’s approval.”
He moaned, and one hand dropped to my thigh. “And until then?”
“Well, this settee is very nice.”
He pulled me, if it were possible, even closer. His lips found my jaw, my neck, and—
“Charlie!” I laughed, half surprised, half driven to utter distraction.
He growled again. “Yes, love?”
My face was hot.Everythingwas hot. But it was Charlie, and it felt so recklessly, wonderfully good. To be safe in his arms, forever.
I pulled back one last time to meet his eyes and be sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Had my list led me here? Had it changed me? Helped me face my fears and learn to be brave?
Perhaps.
Or perhaps it was ...
