“Mercenary woman,” he said without heat. He flipped open the box, and Cleo gasped.
“It’s beautiful,” she said reverently. It was a deep square-cut emerald bordered by smaller diamonds.
“It matches your eyes almost exactly,” he said, removing the ring from its velvet cushion.
“I love you so much,” she said, feeling completely overwhelmed by the depth of her feeling for him.
“So you’ll marry me?”
“If I must,” she said, striving for casual even though her eyes were heavy with tears. She held out her hand, and he kissed her ring finger before sliding the ring onto it.
“No more running away from me, Cleo,” he warned. “Talk to me next time.”
“I left because I loved you so much,” she said seriously, and he cupped her face in the palms of his hands.
“Next time stay because I love you so much.”
“There won’t be a next time, Dante.”
“That’s all I ask for.” He kissed her deeply, and by the time he ended the kiss, she was straddling his lap, his tie was undone, and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, and leaned in for another drugging kiss, which he happily reciprocated, his hands cupping her butt. “I’m sorry I left. The first time you proposed, I thought you wanted to marry me because of Zach, and I never wanted you to feel trapped or obligated to marry. After he died, I thought we were just helping each other cope with the grief.”
“No more talk. I’ve missed more than your weird sense of humor and your appalling taste in movies, you know,” he said seriously.
“Oh?”
“Yep, I’ve missed tasting this mouth,” he growled, before leaning up to do just that. It wasn’t nearly long enough or satisfying enough. “And I’ve missed this highly cuppable little bum.” Again, action to match his words. Cleo squirmed with excitement and wondered where he was going next. “Oh God, and these sensitive little beauties have haunted my dreams.” Her breath quickened in anticipation, and she wriggled on his lap, excited for what was to come. “My mouth has been empty without them to . . .”
“Well, hello.” The masculine voice coming from such close proximity shocked the hell out of both of them. Cleo squealed and tried to jump off Dante’s lap, but his palms flattened against her hips and kept her in place.
“You stay right there. At least until after I’ve managed to lose the hard-on,” he warned under his breath, and she collapsed against his chest in a fit of giggles, hiding her face from Cal, whom neither of them had heard come home.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. D,” Cal said in a voice that sounded wholly insincere.
“You might as well call me Dante, since you’ll be seeing so much more of me in the future.”
“And why would that be?” Cal asked.
Keeping her face buried in Dante’s chest, not so much because of embarrassment but because it smelled so wonderful there, Cleo held up her left hand for Cal’s inspection.
He gasped and grabbed her hand.
“Now that’s a serious rock,” Cal said. “’Bout time you made an honest woman out of her.” His tone changed, going deeper and more serious. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry to hear about the baby. It just about broke my heart. You have my sympathies.”
“Thank you, Callum,” Dante said sincerely. “That means a lot.”
“So, look . . . this is a onetime deal. I’m gonna take some clothes and head over to a friend’s and stay the night. Knock yourselves out, but do not, for the love of God, have sex on my bed!”
Cleo sniggered, and after an experimental wiggle, figured it was safe to climb off Dante’s lap. She launched herself at Cal and hugged him fiercely.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
“Anytime, hon. Anytime.”
A couple of hours later, sated and exhausted, Dante and Cleo lounged on the sleeper couch, completely naked.
“I’ve never made love on a sleeper couch before,” he said bemusedly, and Cleo giggled. She felt absurdly happy.
“It’s called slumming it.”
“I mean, we could have gone to the Damaso International Hotel on the Golden Mile,” he said, referencing Durban’s famous beach strip. “But the thought never even occurred to me.”
“So . . . some stuff to talk about,” she said, toying with his pendant as she sat on his lap.
“Hmm.” He looked and sounded exhausted.
“I hate that penthouse; we’re getting a real house.”
“Bossy,” he said on a yawn.
“And we’re having a proper wedding with a big white dress and a tux and everything, but you’re paying for it because I’m totally poor.” He snorted as his hands roamed absently up and down her slender back.
“We’re honeymooning in Japan,” he added. “And going to each and every page marked off in your travel guide.”
“How do you know about that?” she asked, stunned. As far she knew, he’d never even noticed her guide.
“Please, you were poring over that thing every time we were in the car with Daisuke, asking him questions about places that interested you in the book. Most evenings, I had Daisuke drive by some of those places so that, even though we didn’t have the time to properly visit them, you could have a sense of what they were like.”
“I wondered if that was your doing,” she said. It had been a kind and considerate gesture, to say the least.
“I also happened to leaf through the book one day while you were in the bathroom.”
“Sneaky,” she tut-tutted.
“Hey, it was just lying there, in full view at the top of your handbag,” he joked.
“I also wanted to discuss children,” she said, and he went still, obviously bracing himself for something. “I’d like to hold off on another baby for a couple of years, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine with me, dulzura. I get to have you all to myself for a while.” He looked so relieved by her comment that she was curious.
“What were you expecting me to say?” she asked.
“I was concerned that maybe you never wanted another one.”
“What would you have done if that were the case?”
He considered her question carefully.
“I would have left you to think it over a little longer, and in a few years’ time I would have asked you to reconsider. If you were still adamantly against it, I would have tried steering you toward adoption.”
“You wouldn’t have minded?”
“I would have minded very much, but your happiness is my happiness,” he said simply, and she cupped his stubbled jaw between the palms of her hands and kissed him.
“I also want you to draw up a prenuptial contract,” she said quietly, and he went still beneath her. Every muscle in his body froze.
“We don’t have to.”
“We do,” she said. “You’re not your father, Dante, so don’t be stupid. Draw up the contract.”
“But I’m happy to share everything I have with you.”
“And that’s fabulous, but I want you to approach this union as you would have approached marriage to your boring dream woman. Draw up a contract that you know we’ll never use because we love and respect each other too much for the ugly notion of divorce to ever enter our heads. Do it for me. Make sure I don’t take you for every penny you own.”
“You’re a weird and wonderful woman, Cleopatra Knight.”
“God, I wish you’d stop calling me that! And don’t you ever use my middle name again, Dante Aloysius Damaso,” she said, and he scowled. “Remember, I can dish the dirt too.”
“I have some rules for you too,” he said. “They’re pretty simple. You allow me to finance a studio for you so that you can start teaching on a more serious basis.”
“But that’s . . .” He held up his forefinger and tilted his head.
“Shush. I’m not done talking yet. You always share a workout space with me, because you’re seriously sexy when you’re doing that whole ballerina thing.”
“So are you when you’re doing the boxing thing.”
“Once we get a house, we’re getting a dog. Not one of those snappy, fiddly little things. A proper dog.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she saluted sarcastically.
“This last rule is negotiable,” he said, tilting his hand in a “so-so” gesture. “You walk around naked all the time and tell me you love me at least twice a day.”
“That’s a hell no on the first, and an amendment to three times a day on the second.”
“Spoilsport,” he pouted.
“I love you,” she said, and he grinned.
“That’s one,” he said, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Who’s counting?” Then, leaning down until her mouth was right next to his ear, she whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you . . .”
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
Cleo stared at her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye, tilting her head this way and that as she swung around to look at her butt. Dante stepped into her line of sight, and she gave him a perturbed frown in the mirror.