Adored (LOVE LETTERS #1) - Kristen Blakely Page 0,34
a dressing gown. She peeked into Allison’s bedroom, and a fond smile tugged across her face. Rowan dozed on the love seat, his hand resting on a Dr. Seuss book. Allison, in her PJs, was sprawled across his chest, fast asleep.
Love swamping her, Vera took a picture with her mind and slipped it into her heart.
About a half hour later, Rowan’s light footsteps creaked the wooden floorboards. Vera looked up from her cup of steaming chamomile tea and smiled at him. “Do you want one?”
He shook his head as he dragged his hand across his face. He looked exhausted, as if even a smile was too much effort at that moment. “I have to leave in five minutes to catch my flight to New York.” A soft sigh forced its way out of him. “God, I hate this part of the day. Leaving you and Allison.” He slipped his hand into the pocket of his denim jeans. “I…” He closed his eyes and shook his head again.
He did not just look exhausted. He looked defeated, a far cry from the charming lover who had sat across from her at dinner, handling her daughter with easy, amused patience.
“What is it?” Vera asked, alarmed.
“Next week. We’ll talk next week.”
“Rowan, are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’ll keep. I’ve got to go.”
She could not shake the feeling that something was terribly, horribly wrong. Was he walking out on the relationship just as she was about to jump in with two feet? She followed him to the door. “Rowan, do you remember the question you asked me?”
“I’ve asked you lots of questions.”
“Only one that really mattered. One I hadn’t answered.”
He paused and looked at her, searching her face.
Her heart trembled, but her voice was steady. “Will you marry me?”
“Are you repeating the question I asked you, or are you asking me?”
“I’m asking you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” His answer was simply stated without any hesitation. His breath tore out of him as he raked fingers through his hair. “Thank God you asked. I thought I’d wrecked the evening.”
Her eyes flashed wide. “What?”
From his jeans pocket, he pulled out a light blue Tiffany box decorated with silver trim. “I tried to set up the perfect engagement memory, but I forgot the candles and music, and then after dinner, I fell asleep.”
You fell asleep reading to my daughter after spending the whole day taking care of her. If there was a better reason for falling asleep, she couldn’t think of it. Vera stared at the box he held out. “So you were going to put off asking me till next week?”
He nodded.
“Never put off happiness.” She tipped up the cover of the box to reveal an engagement ring with a marquise cut center diamond accented by a row of channel-set round diamonds on either side. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He removed the ring from the box and slid it into her finger. “No. Thank you.” He drew her into a kiss.
An undercurrent of passion anchored the kiss, but it offered far more than passion. The kiss swamped her in love and drowned her with tenderness. It was the kiss of a lonely traveler finally finding his way home. Tears stung her eyes. She pulled back, and he rested his forehead against hers. “Do you have to go?” she whispered.
“No,” he said. “I can’t leave now. Not after you’ve said yes.”
Vera chuckled. “You said yes.”
“Same difference.” Rowan laughed. He drew in a deep breath and released it in a shuddering sigh. “I feel like I can breathe again.”
“Is this why you’ve been edgy all weekend?” Her voice took on a teasing edge. “Did the proposal wreck your peace of mind?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re so even-keeled, and you ooze confidence. I didn’t even know you could get nervous.”
He shrugged as his smile regained its stunning edge. “I’m better at hiding it. Training.”
Vera and Rowan made love that night with the sweet familiarity of longtime lovers. Their fingers entwined as he entered her; their breaths united in a kiss. Their joining was like a dance, so graceful it seemed choreographed. He knew exactly where to touch her and how to elicit sighs of surrender and whimpers of need.
Long after they climaxed together, he remained in her. Vera closed her eyes and relaxed in the certainty of his arms around her.
“When would you like to get married?” he asked.
Tomorrow. Vera sighed. If only she were free to follow her whim. She did not have parents to invite to the wedding, but her assorted uncles, aunts, and