‘What do you mean?’ I ask, turning to her. ‘Specifically, because that’s the suite Rory and I are staying in tonight.’
‘I’m saying nothin’,’ she says, sniggering. ‘Except maybe it gives off vibes ofthe red room of pain. I’d say someone’s in for a skelped arse tonight.’
‘Give over,’ scoffs Ivy. ‘It’s not that kind of hotel.’ Her gaze glides to mine. ‘Is it?’
I start to answer, but my attention is drawn by the sudden sound of applause as Kit introduces Rory.Dammit; I missed what he had to say.And this must be an impromptu addition as Rory had said earlier he didn’t want to be involved.
‘Thank you,’ Rory begins. ‘But if I could just ask my lovely partner in crime to come forward. Fin?’ As his eyes scan the crowd I feel myself shrinking into the neck of my dress. ‘That is, if she’s not too busy yammering to her friends back there.’
Warm laughter ripples through the crowd, the modest but select sea of people parting.
‘Go on, then,’ says Ivy, her hand at my back. ‘Go see your man.’
‘Did you know anything about this?’ I whisper through a painted on smile.
She doesn’t answer beyond giving me a sharp push.
Crowds make me nervous these days, but I can focus on Rory... while wondering what he’s up to, though it can’t be. Surely not. He’s not going to ask the question he’s asked me at least once a month since we got back together.
He wouldn’t... would he? Not in front of all these people.
As I approach the front of the room I can’t help but marvel at what an attractive figure he cuts. He’s hot in jeans and a tee, or what I like to think of as hisMellor’sget-up, but in black Armani he’s absolutely breathtaking. It’s not his fault. It’s just the way he’s made: the sharpness of his cheekbones; his height; the graceful lines of his body; the permanent gleam in his eye.
His slate coloured button-down brings another dimension to his steely gaze; it’s a gaze that means business, along with a whole host of other stuff we won’t get to until the bedroom.The Master’s Suite.Hells bells...
As I draw closer, he holds out his hand and brings me to his chest for a brief hug. In his arms, I feel his chest expand in a deep inhale, silent but for the movement of his body against mine.
‘I hate to do this, blue.’
And then it’s my turn to inhale a quick breath, because that term of endearment is strictly for use inside the bedroom.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask as he steps back, without letting go of my hand.
I can feel my mouth gaping back at his smirk as he...
... begins to lower his body
... a hand feeding into the inside pocket of his jacket
... goes down onto one knee.
‘Fin,’ he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. A smile I suddenly want to smack. Then kiss. My hand comes up to my own mouth to prevent my heart from falling from my throat to the ground.
‘Oh, Rory. You’re not—’Please don’t say he’s doing this—not in public. We’ve already spoken about this—I told him I wasn’t ready. Sort of.
‘I’m afraid I am,’ he replies, his eyes sparkling with glee. I begin to shake. ‘I’m honoured to be yours,’ he announces, loud enough for more than those nearby to hear. ‘And I know you value your independence. I want you to know that I’ll never take that away from you, but darlin’, I’m tired of traipsing between Waterloo and my place. Put me out of my misery, Fin.’ He begins to pull his hand from his pocket. ‘I was daft enough to let you go the first time. I’m not risking it again.’
There, balanced on his index finger is a keychain; silver and sparkly. ‘I’m going to ask you again. And if you say no, that’s fine. I’ll just ask you another time, and another, until you tell me the words I want to hear. Fin, will you move in with me?’
As a mixture of sniggers and more heartfeltaww’sbreak out around us, I take the keychain from his proffered finger, folding it into my own.
‘I could murder you right now,’ I say disparagingly. Undeterred, Rory opens his mouth to speak again, but I beat him to it. ‘Yes, Rory. I will.’
‘You will?’ He stands abruptly, hands now on my shoulders as he stares down at me. ‘You make me the happiest—’
‘What’s this hanging from it?’ I lay the keyring flat against my palm, something bright and sparkling catching my eye.It’s beautiful—oh my God, it is, isn’t it?
‘Don’t worry about that,’ he says laughing softly. ‘All at your own pace.’
