“Does it bother you?”
I lifted her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “No. I love it.” I brushed a kiss over her luscious lips and whispered, “I love everything about you.”
She sighed, and it sounded wounded, sad.
I shifted back so I could see her, noticed she had tears in her eyes. I pushed my fingers into her hair and held her face so she couldn’t hide again.
“Sienna, honey, what’s wrong?”
“I care what you think.”
I lifted an eyebrow at this. “And that’s making you cry?”
She nodded and wrapped her leg around mine, like she was securing our bodies together.
I grinned at her and her beautiful face, and said, “I care what you think.”
She sniffed. “Please don’t regret a single thing that just happened. It was so beautiful. I think I’d have to murder you if you regretted the hottest lovemaking of all time.”
Shaking my head, my eyelids lowered as all parts of my body recalled each exquisite moment. Each hitch of her breath, each reflexive movement. The moment she admitted her love might never be surpassed, but the feel of her supple body, her heat, her submissive, greedy arousal came in a close second.
A very close second.
I’d likely have to take her again soon, just to make sure.
I attempted to soothe her. “I’ll never regret a second of being with you. Being with you is where I belong.”
Her breaths were coming faster than usual; obviously she was still fretting.
“What can I say to calm your fears?” I whispered, kissing her nose.
“I don’t know,” she said, and she looked serious, her eyes darting between mine.
I studied her, wondering if now was the right time to ask her to marry me. But everything was happening backward. She was supposed to be dressed when I arrived. We were supposed to talk, sort through our troubles. I was supposed to make my case.
Then, after she was wearing the ring, we were supposed to make love.
“I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” I started carefully. She was skittish, and I didn’t want to frighten her off.
“Which? Which proposal?”
“That we see each other in secret for a time.”
She swallowed, and her leg tightened over mine. “Oh?”
“You should marry me,” I said suddenly, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid and nodding at the wisdom of my words. “We should get married.”
Her lips parted, and I was pleased to see most of the anxiety plaguing her expression had disappeared. However, in all fairness, the anxiety was replaced by surprise. She blinked, her mouth moving but no sound coming out.
“Hear me out.” I smoothed my hand from her neck to her hip, tugging her body an inch closer, my grip tightening. “You think we ought to date in secret—”
“I don’t think—”
“Just listen. I hate that idea. I do. I hate it. Now, part of my hate is because I don’t want to lie to folks. But the other part is selfish. I’m in love with you, and the idea of us being a secret makes me want to break something.” Or cut down all the trees on the mountain.
Her gaze turned warm and soft, and her lush body relaxed into mine, making it difficult for me to think.
“I never—”
“Let me finish,” I growled, the words coming out much gruffer than I’d intended because my heart was now beating at a breakneck pace.
And I wanted her again. I wanted her crying my name and losing her mind. I wanted her begging me to do dirty things, hearing her soft moans and watching her body bounce and ripple and yield beneath mine.
So, yeah.
I was gruff.
“So what I propose is that we do this in secret, at first. We do this slowly, and I work with someone to help lessen the fallout.”
Her face scrunched. “Like an image consultant?”
“Sure. Fine. Just someone who’ll help soften the edges of my past for general consumption, so you aren’t paying the price for my past misdeeds. And I’d pay for it all.” I had plenty of money. My momma came from money; in addition to the house and land, I’d inherited two million dollars last month when I’d turned thirty-one. I’d done nothing with it. It was in a bank in Knoxville collecting dust.
“Jethro—”
“And I’ll sign a prenup, or whatever. I don’t care about your money.”
“I know you don’t.”
“But we’d get married now, before the movie wraps.”
“Wait—”
“I know it might not make sense to you. And I know this is fast, but I’m certain.”
“Listen for a—”
“I could deal with keeping things secret in the short term, if we were engaged,” I finished, frowning so she’d know I was dead serious and had given the matter serious thought.