With an indulgent groan, Quinn shook his head. 'Not that dream again.'
'There are some things you can't explain,' Magenta said stubbornly.
'Such as?'
'Words I heard in the dream that you just repeated-explain that away,' she said with a dramatic flourish.
Holding her in front of him, Quinn stared down into her eyes. 'Let's put this to bed once and for all, shall we? Everyone accepts that the subconscious plays on and on while we're sleeping-all those things we can't bring ourselves to think about during the day or don't have time for. We fall asleep and they all come flooding back-whether we want them in our heads or not. And then we embroider them to suit our deepest desires-like you desiring me, for instance.'
'What?' Balling her hands into fists, Magenta pummelled Quinn's unyielding chest. 'The world doesn't revolve around you, Gray Quinn.'
'Your world does, apparently.' He had to dodge out of the way this time.
'Okay,' said Magenta, setting her jaw. 'So what about the little things-the coincidences like the dress and shoes you bought me, also in the dream? And the hot-dog stand?' she said excitedly, growing in conviction.
'If they were all in the dream, then that was exactly as you say-coincidence. The dress and shoes I gave you aren't such a mystery. The girls leave their magazines lying about all over the office and, contrary to popular opinion, men do glance at them. I guessed the featured outfit of the month would be pretty high on your wish-list.'
'And the hot-dog stand?'
'We pass it on the way to your old place.' There was a smile in Quinn's voice. 'I don't think you can read too much into that, Magenta. You were hungry, I bought you a hot dog-whoo-hoo.'
Magenta sighed. Didn't everyone want a little magic in their life? But she had Quinn. She should be satisfied, she told herself, feeling warmth consume her as she stared into his face.
'I'm sorry if I burst your bubble, baby.'
'It's not that.'
'Yes, it is. However sceptical people think they are, everyone hopes that a little magic will touch their life. There wouldn't be a game of chance or a dating site in existence otherwise-and that's only the tip of the iceberg.'
'My dream was just that, in your opinion-a projection of my deepest hopes and fears onto my sleeping mind.'
'I'm afraid so.'
'Then I think you're an unromantic killjoy, Gray Quinn.'
'Really?' Quinn murmured, not even slightly ruffled by this opinion. 'So, what do you make of this?'
'What is it?' Magenta asked, staring at the small velvet box.
'Why don't you open it and find out?'
She did as Quinn said, only to feel every bit of blood drain from her face. 'It's fabulous,' she whispered. And it truly was.
'It's no more than you deserve,' Quinn told her, removing the flawless blue-white diamond and placing it on Magenta's wedding finger. 'Think of it as a bonus for landing the magazine account. I saw it in the jeweller's window and couldn't walk past it. For some reason, it called to me.'
'And that's all it is-a bonus for my work?'
'What do you think?' Catching Magenta into his arms, Quinn held her close. 'Do you want the full-on kneeling-in-the-mud routine, or can I ask you standing up?'
'On your knees,' she commanded.
'Heartless woman.'
Heart full, she thought.
'Magenta Steele, will you make me the happiest man in the world by consenting to be my wife? What am I talking about?' Quinn said, breaking off to shake his head. 'I'm already the happiest man in the world.'
'We don't need to get married?'
'To bring up a baby in a household full of love together? No, I don't think we do.' Catching hold of Magenta's hands, Quinn held them to his warm lips for a few intense moments, and when he looked up again his eyes were dancing with the humour she loved. 'But if you want the ring … '
'Stop teasing me, Quinn,' she warned him. And, instead of telling him to get up, she knelt down too. 'I'll take you with or without the ring, as you well know.'
'And I want you whether we get married or not-and that would be for ever,' Quinn added, staring deep into Magenta's eyes. 'Not just for the duration of a dream.'