slide the material off her arms. Her yoga pants followed the shirt’s path to the floor.
The exposed skin was too tempting to resist. He trailed his fingertips down her neck, across her collarbone, and down to the lace covering her breasts. The comparison of the darkness of his tan skin to the silk of her sun kissed skin forced a sad smile. "You are so perfect. Young, beautiful, and far too good for the likes of me."
Her hand covered his, and she brought it up to her mouth and kissed his palm. "We are perfect for each other. We both knew it, even when there was nothing between us but hope."
"You were the reason I survived." He lowered over her, careful not to place too much weight on her.
“And you are the reason I survived.” She trailed her fingers across his lips. "We survived because of each other. You saved my life when you opened my eyes to the woman Regina truly was." She tugged him down to her, and he willingly complied.
This woman was the center of his universe. Everything rotated around her. Everything, from the air he drew into his lungs, to the hopeful way he looked at his future and the peace he’d made with his past.
He entered her and felt her wrap around him. She sighed and hugged her arms around his neck. He slowly seated himself inside her and let her body adjust to him.
She pushed his hair away from his face again and stared up at him. "I love you."
Her words drew the air from his lungs. "I don't deserve your love, but I'll try to be worthy of it. I swear I'll be a man you can be proud of."
"You already are." She pulled him down for another kiss.
He lost himself in her warmth. She loved him. An assassin, a blunt object used to strike fear into the vermin of the world was loved. It was new and brilliant, this connection and exhilaration. The intensity of emotion added to the spiraling heights her body spun him toward. The warm grasp of her heat consuming him and the way her breath hitched before she sighed were aphrodisiacs of epic proportions. Her legs wrapped around the back of his legs. She whispered words of love, of need and of desire. He closed his eyes, pushing back memories of other whispered words in a dark room three years ago. He lowered onto one elbow and strained when she scraped her nails across his back and shouted his name. He watched in abject wonder as she crashed into her orgasm and prayed he could be the man she deserved seconds before he followed her over the peak and fell headfirst into a powerful release.
He rolled, pulling her with him. He fanned her long curly hair from her neck. "I love you, too. I think I've loved you since the day you left my cell."
She shifted, looked up at him, and smiled. "Then marry me."
He jumped, planting his elbow on the bed. "What?"
"Ouch! You're on my hair." She grabbed at her hair, and he scrambled to move but succeeded only in tugging on her hair again.
"Stop!" He froze instantaneously. "Ok, let's do this the right way. Lift up into a sitting position."
He contracted his abs and did a crunch, then rolled into a sit up. Her hair stuck to the sweat on his arm. She swiped her hair back and flopped the mass of curls away from her face. "Man, did I scare you or what?"
"Huh?" He watched her pull the sheets to her chest and sit up.
"I asked you to marry me, and you damn near bolted from the bed." She chuckled humorlessly. "Guess I timed that wrong."
"No, no, you didn't." He twisted onto his hands and knees and crawled in front of her. "I never thought... why would… I’m not…" He stumbled into silence.
She shook her head. "Okay, how about we come to an agreement. Lawyers are good at this type of thing. I propose, when it comes to us being a couple, I do the thinking. You'll get it wrong nine times out of ten. So, marry me. Be my husband."
He blinked at her and tried to decipher what part of the puzzle he’d missed. "You realize who I am and what I do, right? You do remember what your mother told you, what I disclosed to you?"
"Yes, you are Luke Wagner, a member of Guardian. Period. As in, end of story. I'm Pilar Grantham,