Citati
Oh. My. God.
It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s everything.
There are times I’ve doubted Marcus, and even more times he’s made me wonder if this is nothing more to him than sex. Of course he’s done some wonderful things throughout, and we’ve been exclusive for months now, but he’s a hard man to crack. But this, oh man, this proves that Marcus is deeper than I’d thought.
Maybe he even cares about me the way I care about him?
“Marcus,” I breathe.
“Welcome,” a tall man in a tuxedo greets us.
I stare at the table, decked out with candles and roses. The background is the crashing blue waves, lit only by the moonlight against the shore. So freaking, beautiful. Tears well in my eyes and I reach over, curling my fingers in Marcus’s. He leads me around and pulls out a chair, I sit down.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper.
He leans down, brushing his lips across my ear. “I’m never what you think, Katia.”
No he isn’t.
“Champagne?” the waiter offers.
“Please.” I smile up at him.
He pours us both a glass, then tells Marcus he’ll fetch the first course. I have no idea where he’s going to get it from, and frankly, I don’t care. This is perfect.
“What did I do to deserve all this?” I ask, sipping the champagne.
It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s everything.
There are times I’ve doubted Marcus, and even more times he’s made me wonder if this is nothing more to him than sex. Of course he’s done some wonderful things throughout, and we’ve been exclusive for months now, but he’s a hard man to crack. But this, oh man, this proves that Marcus is deeper than I’d thought.
Maybe he even cares about me the way I care about him?
“Marcus,” I breathe.
“Welcome,” a tall man in a tuxedo greets us.
I stare at the table, decked out with candles and roses. The background is the crashing blue waves, lit only by the moonlight against the shore. So freaking, beautiful. Tears well in my eyes and I reach over, curling my fingers in Marcus’s. He leads me around and pulls out a chair, I sit down.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper.
He leans down, brushing his lips across my ear. “I’m never what you think, Katia.”
No he isn’t.
“Champagne?” the waiter offers.
“Please.” I smile up at him.
He pours us both a glass, then tells Marcus he’ll fetch the first course. I have no idea where he’s going to get it from, and frankly, I don’t care. This is perfect.
“What did I do to deserve all this?” I ask, sipping the champagne.
Marcus stares over at me, his brown eyes suddenly intense. He looks beautiful beneath the moonlight, his dark hair curling around the collar of his white, button-up shirt. He’s not wearing a tie tonight—instead the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing his gorgeous chest. He looks edible. Perfection.
“You deserve all you believe you deserve,” he murmurs.
He stares at me, right into my eyes, and suddenly I feel nervous.
“Marcus?” I breathe.
“I’m just going to come out and say this, Katia,” he murmurs. “I told you once I was a man who knew what he wanted, and I didn’t hold back. The time has come for me to take another step, because I know what I want.”
Oh God.
“And what I want is you.”
My legs begin to tremble.
“Me?” I whisper. “Why me?”
“We’ve been over this before,” he says, his voice low and deep.
“I still don’t understand it.”
He leans in close, reaching across the table and taking my hand. His finger begins tracing light circles in my palm. “You don’t need to understand; you just need to accept it. Will you, Katia?”
My heart is pounding.
“Will I what?”
“Marry me.”
Oh. My. God.
Oh. My. GOD.
Marcus Tandem wants to marry me.
There’s only one thing I can do.
“Yes.”
“You deserve all you believe you deserve,” he murmurs.
He stares at me, right into my eyes, and suddenly I feel nervous.
“Marcus?” I breathe.
“I’m just going to come out and say this, Katia,” he murmurs. “I told you once I was a man who knew what he wanted, and I didn’t hold back. The time has come for me to take another step, because I know what I want.”
Oh God.
“And what I want is you.”
My legs begin to tremble.
“Me?” I whisper. “Why me?”
“We’ve been over this before,” he says, his voice low and deep.
“I still don’t understand it.”
He leans in close, reaching across the table and taking my hand. His finger begins tracing light circles in my palm. “You don’t need to understand; you just need to accept it. Will you, Katia?”
My heart is pounding.
“Will I what?”
“Marry me.”
Oh. My. God.
Oh. My. GOD.
Marcus Tandem wants to marry me.
There’s only one thing I can do.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?” Marcus asks, his voice careful.
“Why was my father here, Marcus?”
He stares at me, not showing a damned ounce of emotion.
“Well?” I cry, sitting up.
“I knew him a while ago.”
He’s lying to me. I can see it. I can feel it.
“You’re lying to me,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling.
“Sometimes people lie to protect; maybe that’s what I’m doing here. Protecting you.”
“And maybe,” I yell, jumping off the couch and spinning to the point I have to reach out and hold it to stop myself passing out, “you’re lying to protect yourself.”
“Enough, Katia.”
“Oh, fuck you!”
He flinches, but stands, holding his temper like he always fucking does. He never gets wildly angry, or screams at me. He’s always so damned calm. Like he has no emotion.
“Enough,” he warns.
“Or what, Marcus? You’ll lie to me some more? You’ll kick me out? Go right the fuck ahead. My father just showed up on your doorstep. I have to explain that to my mother now and you’re—”
He moves like lightning, taking hold of my arm and hauling me up against his body. “You will not tell your mom a damned thing.”
“Excuse me?” I breathe, staring into those intense brown eyes.
“Why was my father here, Marcus?”
He stares at me, not showing a damned ounce of emotion.
“Well?” I cry, sitting up.
“I knew him a while ago.”
He’s lying to me. I can see it. I can feel it.
“You’re lying to me,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling.
“Sometimes people lie to protect; maybe that’s what I’m doing here. Protecting you.”
“And maybe,” I yell, jumping off the couch and spinning to the point I have to reach out and hold it to stop myself passing out, “you’re lying to protect yourself.”
“Enough, Katia.”
“Oh, fuck you!”
He flinches, but stands, holding his temper like he always fucking does. He never gets wildly angry, or screams at me. He’s always so damned calm. Like he has no emotion.
“Enough,” he warns.
“Or what, Marcus? You’ll lie to me some more? You’ll kick me out? Go right the fuck ahead. My father just showed up on your doorstep. I have to explain that to my mother now and you’re—”
He moves like lightning, taking hold of my arm and hauling me up against his body. “You will not tell your mom a damned thing.”
“Excuse me?” I breathe, staring into those intense brown eyes.
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