To Claim His Heir by Christmas(34)

       
           



       

'Whatever you want-whatever makes you happy. I can be nice to your father. For thirty seconds at least.'

'Make it sixty-nine and I'll pay you in kind.'

He growled like a virile feral wolf. 'I'm having you back in this bed within two hours.'

'Then move it.'

Tornado-style, they whirled around the room, yanking suit hangers and buttoning shirts and shoving feet into shoes. Before she knew it they were at the door.

'You look indecently gorgeous, Prince Thane. I adore you in this black Armani. All dissolute and wicked. How do I look?'

He pointed his index finger north. 'Your halo is wonky.'

Her smile exploded into laughter. 'You mean my tiara?'

'Si. Not that I care. To me you look perfect. A debauched angel.'

'And I bet you like that, huh?'

'Of course,' he drawled.

She was beaming-she knew it. 'Okay, Romeo, are you ready to marry your Juliet?'

'I am ready to marry you, Luciana. To finally make you mine.'

She laced her hand through his and he gripped it with warm fingers and devout love and the promise of unaccountable tomorrows.

Then let's do it. Let's make our destiny our own.