“No,” he said. “I want to show you Paris. Hell, I want to show you the world.”
“Good.” I sat up and looked around the cabin, then smiled wickedly. “I want to see the world,” I told him. “But first I’m looking forward to the flight. I didn’t think about it the first time we flew, but the place has potential. It’s not as well-equipped as our playroom,” I teased, “but I think this cabin will do just fine.”
Something devious sparked in his eyes. “I was thinking that when you move in with me, we can completely remodel your place. Forget playroom. We’ll have a full-fledged playhouse.”
“When I move in?” I asked, the deliciously decadent concept of an entire playhouse skipping right out of my mind like a stone across the water. “Am I moving in?”
“I figure that’s a first step.” He took my hand. “Then a ring, then children after that,” he finished, moving his hand to press it flat on my belly.
“Oh.” I felt breathless and a little dizzy and more than a little overwhelmed. His wife. His partner. His. “Is this a proposal?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
I looked away so that he couldn’t see the disappointment in my face.
I told myself I was being foolish. My father and I were safe. Cole and I were together, we were in love, we were happy. The rest would come soon enough. But he’d said the word, and now it was in my head, and damn me, I wanted it, because it was another way to say to the world that he was mine and I was his.
“Catalina?” There was a world of tenderness in his voice, and I turned to him. “Do you remember once you asked me what my time in Italy was like?”
“Sure.” I frowned, a bit off balance by the shift in conversation.
“I lived in Florence primarily, but I spent a month in Rome and almost two weeks in Venice. I know you want to see Paris, but would you mind if we went to Italy after? I’d like to show it to you.”
“I’d love to see it. I want to share everything you’re willing to give me.”
“Good,” he said, moving to stretch out on the couch, his back against the armrest. I leaned against him, then sighed as his arms closed around me, trapping me in a way that made me feel safe and loved.
“Are you familiar with the Bridge of Sighs?” he asked.
“It sounds familiar,” I admitted. “But no, not really.”
“It’s an enclosed bridge in Venice. Ancient and beautiful. There is a legend that if lovers kiss under the bridge at sunset, they will be granted eternal love and bliss.”
“I like that legend.”
“Me, too,” he said. “So you might be interested to know that I’m going to take you there at sunset. And when we’re beneath the bridge, I’m going to kiss you, just like the legend says. And then, Catalina Rhodes, I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart skipping in a way that made me more than a little breathless. “In that case I should tell you that I’m going to say yes.” I smiled up at him, warm and safe and content in the circle of his arms. “But right now, I think we really should practice that kiss. Don’t you?”
“I do.” And then the man who would one day be my husband—the man who loved me and challenged me, who teased and adored me—the man who had saved me in so many wonderful ways—pulled me close and kissed me hard.
I clung to him, letting every fear and worry flow out of me, letting the past slide away so that the only things left in my head were that moment and my fantasies of the future.
A future that Cole and I would face together.
Fall in love with the irresistible, emotionally charged romance of Damien Stark and Nikki Fairchild . . .
He was the one man I couldn’t avoid.
And the one man I couldn’t resist.
Damien Stark could have his way with any woman.