“Yes?” she prompted when he failed to expound. She hoped the single word didn’t sound as trembly as she thought it did.
Michael pulled a small velvet box from his jacket and knelt beside her chair. “Maggie, I love you, and I don’t ever want to make the mistake of losing you again. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Maggie gasped. Her eyes grew wide as she gazed upon the most stunning diamond she’d ever seen. At least a full carat, it glimmered as if it held its own source of light deep within. The setting was just as stunning, done in intricate white gold.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful,” he responded taking her left hand in his. “Say yes, Maggie.”
“I want to,” she said quietly, her voice little more than a whisper. “More than anything.”
“Then say yes, Maggie. Say you will marry me.” His eyes, so clear and blue, implored her to.
“I – I can’t. Not yet.” Maggie was shocked that she was actually able to get the words out, because every fiber of her body was screaming Yes! Yes!
“Why not?” There was not a trace of anger in his voice. Bemusement, perhaps.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself to do what she must, and dreading it because it might drive the final wedge between them. “Because there’s something I haven’t told you. Something that might change your mind.”
“Nothing you can say could change my mind, Maggie,” he said firmly, shaking his head.
God, please let that be true, she prayed. “Please, Michael. Hear me out.”
He slowly released a controlled breath and placed the ring box on the table. Taking her hand in both of his, he agreed. “Alright.”
“Not here.” His eyes pinned her with his stare; she could feel him looking right down into her heart, her soul. She felt herself unraveling, losing the battle to stay strong. Michael always had that effect on her, making her believe he would protect her, take care of her, ease any pain she might be struggling with. The longer she was with him, the more she felt her natural resistance to the idea weakening. For the first time in her life, she wanted to let herself melt into his arms and let him take over. She only prayed she could keep it together a little while longer.
“Alright.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time he pulled into the driveway, Maggie was a nervous wreck, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. She blinked rapidly in an attempt to keep them from spilling over.
“Maggie, sweetheart, what is it?” He took her hand, willing her to confide in him, needing her to, for her sake as much as his. “Baby, come here.”
Michael tugged gently on her arm and she slid over to him, needing his warmth, his comfort. She blinked a few more times, letting herself look into his eyes. The love and concern she saw there, the warmth and strength of the man she could not live without, calmed her soul. Michael loved her. He would always be there for her, no matter what. The thought humbled her.
“I love you so much, Michael,” she finally managed, her voice thick with unshed tears, choked with emotion.
“I love you, too, Maggie.” She moved closer, letting his arm curl around her, resting her head on his shoulder.
“The dinner was wonderful.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I’m pregnant.”
There was only a brief pause before he answered. “I know.”
She pulled back enough to look at him. His face, as beautiful as if carved by angels, smiled patiently at her. His eyes, a bright, luminous blue, pierced her all the way to her toes. Her eyes widened in stunned surprise. Her mouth opened several times before she actually managed to get the words out. “But how? Did Lexi –“
*
“No,” Michael assured her, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers tenderly. “Lexi told me nothing. You seem to keep forgetting that I am a doctor, Maggie.”
There was only a trace of admonishment in his voice; he couldn’t genuinely inject any more since conscious recognition of her pregnancy hadn’t actually occurred to him until yesterday. With a slight pang of guilt, he also neglected to admit the images on Ian’s computer had nearly stopped his heart in his chest, or that he spent the rest of that night and following morning berating himself for not recognizing the now-obvious signs for what they were.
When it came to Maggie, it seemed, his wealth of knowledge, his ability to think clearly, and his common sense took a back seat to his much baser nature. Love. Claim. Possess. Protect. As much as he’d like to believe otherwise, that is what she reduced him to. In that respect, he was no better than his caveman ancestors.
A bit humbling, perhaps, but it was what it was.
The truth was, he should have known. Maybe he had, somewhere deep down. The images, as startling as they were, were more affirmation than revelation. From the moment he saw them, everything just clicked into place.