Destined to Last - By Alissa Johnson Page 0,100

her hand away. “That’s your only reason?”

“Not my only reason, no,” he was quick to reply. Unfortunately, he was just as quick to add, “But it is a reason, a sound one.”

“It could be the very best reason in the world, but it’s hardly what a woman wishes to hear in a marriage proposal.”

“I suppose it’s not.” He recaptured her hand. “Kate, darling, I have wanted you for my wife for some time. How could I not? You’re the most beautiful, compassionate, and talented woman I have ever met.”

It seemed fishing would only net her compliments after all. Apparently, a direct approach would be necessary. “I am asking how you feel about me.”

This time it was he who pulled away. “How I feel?”

“Yes,” she said carefully, rather disconcerted by his reaction. “About me.”

“I see.” He rose from the settee suddenly, and tugged a little on his cravat. Both very bad signs. “I am very fond of you.”

“Fond?” One was fond of pastries, and sunshine, and freshly washed linens on the bed. “Just…fond?”

“Very fond,” he corrected.

“Like apple tarts,” she whispered in disbelief.

“Beg your pardon?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to clear her thoughts. When she looked at him again, she was certain her feelings were evident on her face. “You feel nothing more than fondness?”

He licked his lips, another act of nerves she might have wondered at if she hadn’t been preoccupied wondering at his lack of passion.

“Should I?” he asked.

“I…” She swore she could see the edges of her vision grow red. “Should you?”

“What I mean is, is it necessary for us to feel more in order to wed? We’ve—”

“Of course it’s necessary.”

“Very well,” he conceded on a sigh she could have done without hearing. “I have other feelings for you. I respect you. I desire you more than I have any other woman. I…I have a great deal of…of…” He cleared his throat, directed his gaze over her shoulder, and finished on a mumble. “…affection for you.”

“And?” she prompted when he said nothing more.

“And what?” he asked impatiently. “Would you have me list everything I feel for you without offering me something in return?”

She was tempted to point out that she wasn’t the one who had offered a marriage proposal, but only because her feelings were raw. In all fairness, she couldn’t judge him for not declaring himself if she wasn’t willing to do the same.

“No, of course not,” she said. “You’re absolutely right.”

He nodded in a supremely satisfied sort of way, which was something else she could have done without. She let it pass and concentrated on the daunting challenge of admitting her love for him.

“I…I too have a great deal of respect for you.” Oh, dear, this was more difficult than she’d anticipated. “And I too feel a physical…that is…”

“You desire me,” he supplied a bit dryly.

“Yes, thank you. And I…I…” She cleared her throat. “I…”

His mouth curved up in something akin to a smirk. It was all the motivation she needed. She straightened her shoulders, caught his gaze, and held it without blinking until his smirk disappeared.

And then, quite clearly, she said, “I am in love with you.”

Twenty-three

I am in love with you.

Hunter went very, very still. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. He couldn’t have possibly. “I beg your pardon?”

Kate tipped her chin up. “I am in love with you.”

Very well, he had heard her correctly.

He hadn’t expected to hear those words from her. He’d worked to earn her loyalty, her trust, and her affection. Maybe, just maybe, some small, irrational part of him had hoped for her love as well, but it would have made him the worst sort of hypocrite to expect it.

He wished he could move. He wished he could think of something better to say than, “I hadn’t expected that.”

Because, really, there had to be an infinite number of more eloquent things to say in that moment.

Kate certainly seemed to think so. She gaped at him. “That’s all you have to say? I tell you—”

“No, no. I beg your pardon.” Regaining the use of his legs, he stepped forward to take her hand yet again and draw her to her feet. “Forgive me. I’m…overwhelmed.”

He couldn’t ever remember feeling so overwhelmed.

“Oh, well.” She smiled a little, a blush forming on her cheeks. “That’s all right, then.”

He wasn’t certain it was all right. “It’s a priceless gift,” he told her. It was also a tremendous responsibility. “I’m grateful for it.” And afraid of it. “I’ll treasure it.” While it lasted.

“I’m

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