Claiming Her SEAL(30)

"That's not it." Or more to the point, that wasn't all of it. He tipped  up her chin to kiss her, almost losing his balance as she  enthusiastically jumped into it with her trademark eagerness. He pulled  away with a laugh. "Oh, no, you don't. Stop distracting me."

She scowled without any real heat. "You started it."

"Allow me to finish it." With a flourish, he pulled the ring box out of his shorts' pocket and flipped the lid. "Emma-"

Whatever he'd planned to say next clogged up in his throat, choking off  his words, his air. Maybe part of his brain. How could he possibly  explain to her what she meant to him?

Fantastic. The one and only time in his life that he'd proposed to a  woman, and he couldn't talk. What if she said no? What if her first  fiancé had put her off marriage-

"Oh, Dex." Her gaze flitted between the ring and his face as if she  couldn't soak either in long enough. Two tears splashed onto Emma's  cheeks. "Yes."

That got his throat working. "I didn't ask the question yet."

"Doesn't matter. There's nothing you could ask of me that I'd say no to.  Especially not if it involves me and you and the promise of forever."  Her brow furrowed. "That's what this is, right?"

God willing.

Geez, his hands were shaking. What the hell was that? Nerves were not  his thing. Couldn't be, or he'd have accidentally shot the wrong target,  and he'd never missed. A little freaked out, he plucked the ring from  its velvet housing and held it up, wishing the diamond was bigger,  flashier. Emma wouldn't care, but he did.

"It's not much. But I hope that when you wear this ring, it'll remind  you how much I love you. That you're mine. Every day, every way. But I  wanted to put it on you here, in the water. Because it's the one place I  can be totally transparent about what's inside of me."         

     



 

Oh, look at that. He could tell her how he felt after all. The magic of the water hadn't faded and he prayed it never would.

"Not much?" she whispered through her tears as she held out her hand to  allow him to slip the band over her knuckle, where it sparkled in the  sunlight from her third finger. "That's everything."

"You're everything," he corrected. "Marry me and spend the rest of your life in the water with me."

She nodded, shaking a few more tears loose. "Make it a beach wedding and  I'm sold. Except, I'm kind of curious where in the world you could  possibly take me on a honeymoon that would be better than this?"

She kicked at the crystal-blue surf, drenching them both, but he didn't  care. "Leave that to me. I promise to make it worth your while."

Dex had exactly the thing in mind. When he got back to the bungalow, he  called Mick Frasier. If Emma wanted a memorable honeymoon, he'd deliver  it-in the form of a sugar plantation, all to themselves. He'd talk  Frasier into it or die trying.




Mick stalked into the Internet café in Petit Ciotat, the nearest town to  Villa Sucre, the sugar plantation he was supposed to be getting ready  for renovation.

He paid for a cup of coffee and an hour of Internet time, and threw  himself into the nearest chair. He needed to make this quick, but his  cell phone only had intermittent reception, and at some point over the  past week his e-mails had stopped downloading.

And since Will wasn't taking this roadblock seriously, Mick needed to  send him a point-by-point detailed breakdown of the disaster that was  this plan.

He took a sip of the hot coffee, his first real one in days, and watched  the browser load up. He didn't have the patience for this. Not today.

Not while she was back at the estate, plotting his ruin.

He flipped through the first dozen e-mails easily. Yes, he'd arrived,  and all was fine. No, Mom, he didn't need cookies sent in a care  package. No, Jake, he didn't need porn sent either. Yes, Miralinda was  beautiful.

No, he hadn't met any beautiful women yet. Okay, that answer was a total  lie. But the truth was beyond complicated, and he had a job to do.

But before he could settle down to an all caps explanation of why Will  needed to get his ass down to the Caribbean, pronto, another e-mail slid  into his inbox.

Dex wanted to borrow the plantation? Mick let out a harsh laugh. A few  heads turned his way, and he glowered back at the curious eyes.

No way could he promise the plantation would be ready for visitors  anytime soon. Not that he was giving it up. No sir, not going to happen.  But he wasn't in the business of making promises he couldn't follow  through on. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to send his  friend a "sorry, man" brush-off. But they had each other's backs, and  Dex was asking him for a favor.

He marked the e-mail unread instead. And he pushed away from the  computer. This wasn't Will's fight, it was Mick's. He was going back to  Villa Sucre to tell Cara Levasseur she needed to get her gorgeous ass  off his estate, once and for all.