SOPs, that kind of thing."
Maggie's smile was joyous, and it lifted his heart. "I think I could definitely swing that," she told him. "Just one more thing. How do you feel about waiting a year or two to start a family?"
"I want kids, but not right away," he told her. "So that sounds good to me."
Maggie nodded. "Good."
Right answer, he thought, relieved. He pictured himself holding a little baby boy or girl, and something fierce and warm moved through him. Yeah, when the time comes, I definitely want to make babies with this woman.
"As for Cacao Seattle and Portland, I've actually been thinking that maybe I should be franchising my business instead of owning each location directly," she said, as if thinking aloud. "Then I can expand faster without killing myself and having to work all the time."
"So does that mean 'yes?' Will you be my mate and my wife, Maggie Ornelas?"
She laughed, her dark eyes dancing with happiness, and leaned over the table to kiss him. "Yes. Most definitely yes."
Chapter 24
The Real Thing
The Inn at Rancho Valentino, San Diego
Two hours later
Maggie felt like she was floating several inches above the ground as she and Steve walked hand-in-hand to their room at the extremely elegant hotel that he'd booked for them.
She stopped in amazement to take in the suite, which was bright and airy and at least twice the size of her condo in San Francisco. A large vase filled with a dozen red and pink roses stood on the bistro table in the breakfast nook. Next to it was an ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne. There was even a box of handmade chocolate truffles.
Overwhelmed, she realized that sometime between lunch and now, Steve had somehow managed to book this astoundingly luxurious place for them.
"Do you like it?" he asked, sounding oddly shy.
"I love it! And there's even a fireplace," she replied, her eyes drawn to the dancing gas flames surrounded by rustic stone.
"And another one outside, on our private patio." Grinning, he pointed to the set of French doors just past the king-sized bed.
The sun had finished setting while they enjoyed their seaside dinner. Now, only a lingering deep-red glow and a band of deep cobalt blue remained on the western horizon.
The small patio was softly illuminated by colorful Moroccan metal lanterns, revealing that it was fenced with waist-high wrought iron and surrounded by mature hibiscus hedges for privacy. And there was indeed an outdoor fireplace, with comfortable looking wicker furniture arranged in front of it.
"We're totally eating breakfast out there tomorrow morning," she told him.
"Absolutely. We're going to need refueling by then," he said, his smile turning wicked.
A thrill shot through her at the implied promise.
"Sounds like someone's got plans," she teased.
"Yup. So what do you say we celebrate with some of that champagne…and some dessert?" he asked, his voice low and his eyes hungry.
"I think that sounds like a great idea," she managed, breathless with anticipation.
He cupped her face between his hard, work-roughened hands and gazed down at Maggie with burning eyes.
He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her head.
"If we have sex right now," he told her, his voice rough with need, "I don't think I can stop my jaguar spirit from mating you. Because I want that too. More than anything. I want you, Maggie. Forever."
"Yes," she told him. "I want that, too. After you left—I was mad as hell, Steve, but I missed you. I don't ever want to be without you again."
Then his mouth was on hers, and Maggie couldn't think clearly anymore as his kiss stirred all of her senses, hard and demanding.
She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his hard chest, wanting more. He answered her need by plunging his tongue into her mouth and boldly exploring every sensitive surface.
He let his mouth trail down her throat, using his teeth to nip and bite.
Maggie moaned as jolts of sensation shot down like lightning to the tips of her breasts and to the already throbbing place between her legs.
Panting, she wound her fingers through his long hair and freed it from its ponytail. She offered her throat to him, craving more of those delicious caresses that hovered on the knife's edge between pleasure and pain.
His hands dropped to her hips, and he pulled her against him. He was already hard, the length of his erection pushing boldly through his sweats.
She made a protesting noise when Steve finally ended his kiss and drew back. She tried