“Scarlett?” he whispers. “What’s wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong!” I exclaim. “I love you too, Santiago. Jeez, I’ve wanted to say that for what feels like forever. But I was nervous, too. I thought I might scare you away.”
“So we’ve both been holding it back?” he growls, his lips twitching into a wolfish grin. “Fuck. Well, I’m not holding back anymore. Wait there.”
I giggle as he flips a switch and the Ferrari doors flip up…smacking into the adjacent walls of the alleyway. “Ah, dammit,” he snarls. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, princess.”
“I can’t help it,” I giggle gleefully. “What are you doing, anyway?”
He ducks out of the car and runs around to my side, his knuckles grazed slightly from where he defended my honor, from where he showed me the past isn’t the scary place I’ve so long thought it was.
Now, he falls to one knee and reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. I can already feel fresh tears filling my eyes, welling up like they have so often lately. But these tears bring gorgeous swellings in my chest, filling me with a warm fuzziness as I stare at my man, my protector, my billionaire.
“Is this really happening?” I whisper.
“It is,” he assures me, taking out the ring box. “And the only thing I regret is not doing this the second fate threw you into my life, Scarlett. These last few days with you have brought more meaning to me than years of being a high-powered CEO. I love you, Scarlett. I love you more than I even understand. And I want – no, I need – you to be my wife. So, Scarlett Manning, even though I’m an impatient bastard and I should’ve waited until the restaurant, will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I cry, leaping out of the car and jumping around, I’m just so caught up in the glory of the moment. “A thousand, no, a gazillion times yes.”
“You better stop jumping around like that,” he snarls.
“Why, because it’ll make it too difficult to put on the ring?”
“Well, that too,” he smirks. “But also because it makes your body bounce around too damn temptingly.”
“You’re an animal,” I whisper, stopping and holding my hand out.
“I am,” he barks. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way. But you’re offering me the wrong hand, princess.”
“Oops,” I giggle. “What a clutz …”
I offer him my left hand instead and he slides the diamond ring onto my finger…a big, gorgeous, glittering stone. I hold it up, telling myself that this moment’s real, that I deserve it.
Because I do.
I deserve love. I deserve all the things other women take for granted.
Santiago has shown me that…and so much more.
He stands up and pulls me into his burly embrace, bringing his lips to mine so that we both shiver as we sink into each other. He opens his mouth and our tongues brush, and then we drink deeper. I moan and he lets out a savage growl.
“Come on,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Let’s get to dinner. I want you to see the carriage.”
“Wait, what? Are you serious? There’s a carriage?”
He bares his teeth, wolfish and handsome. “Yes, there is. And fool that I am, I couldn’t wait until then to pop the question.”
“No, I love that it happened like this. It makes it so unique and special. The way the car door hit the wall was so freaking funny!”
“Hey,” he growls, sliding his hand down my body and giving my thigh a squeeze. “I did that on purpose.”
We both laugh like crazy as we climb back into the Ferrari. Santiago – my fiancé – backs the car out and surges through the city. And, as I place my hand on his rock hard arm, I’m just so ecstatic that I could scream.
“Santiago, I just want to sa …”
“Yes?” he snarls.
“I’m so, so glad I almost got splattered on the hood of your car.”
That just makes us laugh all the more.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Santiago
I carry Carmine into the large room in the bookshop, sitting at the back where I’m less likely to be recognized.
I feel a surge of joy when I see how many people are already taking their seats, one woman turning to her friend with a smile and saying, “Can you believe this is her debut work? When I read the opening chapter, I thought I was reading a seasoned thriller writer. I was convinced it was a pen-name. But then I saw her interview and, well, I knew she was genuine.”
I lean down to Carmine in the baby carrier, stroking my finger through his sparse hair. Every time I look at him, I’m reminded that I was right, that we conceived a child Scarlett’s first time.
He’s sleeping soundly, despite all the people. We were both a little nervous about bringing him here, but when Scarlett had the idea to make it a quiet-friendly reading, I knew I had to leap on the opportunity.
“Your mother’s the most talented woman in the world,” I whisper, kissing the top of his head.
He smiles sleepily, making a cooing noise. When we discovered that we were having a boy, the name Carmine leapt out at me with an irresistibility I just couldn’t ignore. Scarlett and Carmine…both red, both mine, it was too perfect to pass up.
This past year has been the most light-filled of my life.
Thinking about the way Scarlett has thrown herself into her work, even while dealing with the ups and downs of pregnancy, fills me with a pride I’d never even guessed at in my own business.
Of course, I am proud of the business I’ve built, and all the good works it allows me to support, but there’s no sweeter image than Scarlett, seven months pregnant, hammering away at her keyboard like it’s offended her and she’s dead-set on breaking the damn thing.
Finally, the quiet murmuring of the crowd falls to silence. Carmine blinks his little eyes open when Scarlett enters stage left, the corners of his lips tugging as he senses his mother. Together, we watch as she approaches the podium.
As if I thought she couldn’t get any more beautiful …
She’s wearing a baggy shirt with the sleeves rolled up, buttoned down to reveal a tempting slice of her pale chest. Pregnancy has just made her look so maternal and care-giving, and yet has also added to the curves that drove me so crazy one year ago…and still drive me crazy, that will always drive me crazy, today.
She looks over the crowd with a twinkle in her eyes that tells me she’s scaling the walls of her anxiety. But then she takes a deep breath, and I know she’s conquered it.
“There’s no stronger person in this whole word, son,” I whisper, so quiet it’s almost silent, words that are just for him.
“Thank you all for coming,” Scarlett says, glowing as red as her name. Her eyes settle on our son and I, and then she stands up straighter, finding strength in her family. “This evening, I’m going to be reading an excerpt from my debut novel, The Girl from the Orphanage. And, yes, I might be a little nervous. Let’s just say if I get through this without puking, I’ll consider myself lucky.”
Laughter moves through the crowd, but everybody is respectful of the quiet rule. I close my eyes and listen to her musical voice as she reads. I’ve heard it many times before, as it’s gone through several iterations, to finally become the masterpiece it is today.
After the reading, I wait in the backroom with Carmine in my arms. Scarlett comes through biting her lower lip in that just-Scarlett way, her cheeks a flaming red.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“Incredible,” I tell her sincerely. “I think we’re both going to have empires in a few years.”
“Oh, come on,” she giggles.
“I’m serious,” I tell her.
She leans down and strokes Carmine’s face, the protective glint in her eyes like that of a lioness. I know how guilty she felt about not being with him tonight, but she handled it, like she’s handled everything, brilliantly.
“Look at you, little soldier,” she smiles. “Sleepin
g through mommy’s reading. Was I that boring?”
“You’re right about one thing,” I snarl. “We do need to get home…but not because this little man is desperate for bed.”
She bats her eyelashes at me. “You’re not saying what I think you are, right? I haven’t even come close to getting the baby weight off yet. I’ve been so obsessed with my writing, I haven’t shaved in, oh, I don’t know…about a gazillion years. I haven’t felt sexy in I-don’t-know-how-long—”
“Baby weight?” I snarl. “You mean those maternal curves that just make me want to have more children with you? And your writing obsession, princess, that just shows me how dedicated and talented you are…in the office, and in the bedroom. Shaving is a joke. Shaving is what women who aren’t as naturally sexy as you have to do. None of what you just said puts me off in the slightest.”
“Okay, okay,” she giggles. “You better stop before you get me too excited! Let’s go home. And thank you, Santiago, for being here. It means so much to me. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, smiling from ear to ear, so happy I’d let out a roar of victory if it wasn’t for our sleeping son.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TEN YEARS LATER
Scarlett
“Who wants double cheeseburgers?” Santiago yells, standing at the barbecue with smoke rising in wisps all around his face.
“Me, me, me!” Carmine and Sebastian yell at the same time, jumping up and down and jostling each other to get to the coveted meat.
“Careful, boys,” I laugh, running forward and putting a protective hand across the both of them…not that that does much to stop their rambunctiousness. At nine and seven years old, the boys are already becoming like little versions of their father, all sinew and muscle.
“Mom,” Carmine glowers, with that cheeky grin on his face. “I’m gonna starve.”
“And me,” Caitlin proclaims seriously. My five year old pads over, blowing bubbles that rise and pop brightly in the summer-bright air. I can just about hear the pop over the hiss of the BBQ. “I feel my belly going like boof.” She giggles, making an exploding noise as she falls on freshly-cut grass. “Boof-boof-boof.”
“You are not going boof,” I laugh. “Whatever that even means. Be a good girl and go and get some plates, and then we’ll serve the burgers like civilized people.”
“I don’t wanna be silly-eyed people,” she complains.
“She said civilized,” Carmine laughs. “Come on, sis, I’ll help you.”
“Good boy,” Santiago grins. “And you, Seb, go and help your sister too.”
“Okay, Dad, but then I get a really, really big burger, yeah? I want the biggestest burger you’ve ever given ever. I wanna be like a big blobby burger man.”
“Blob-blob!” Angelica cries, our four year old stomping over with a water gun. “Blob-blob!”
“Come here, you,” I laugh, sweeping her into my arms. Her blonde hair cascades down her shoulders. I sweep my hand through it. “Now, when are we going to cut this, hmm?”
“Nooooo!” she giggles. “I’m a princess.”
“That’s right, you are a princess,” I tell her. “And princesses can have short hair, too.”
“Nah-uh.”
“Yeah-huh,” I say, tweaking her nose.
“Mom.” She wriggles, laughing all the while.
Finally, I put her down and turn to the playpen where Sunny sits, his blocks laid out before him. Our youngest child grins up at me with a huge beaming gap-toothed grin. I go over and take the triangle shape, holding it up so that his eyes swing back and forth, following its movements. Then I hand it to him and watch, biting my lip.
“Ah!” he cries, trying to jam it into the square-shaped hole.
“Good enough, sweetness,” I smile, kissing him on the forehead.
“Form a line,” Santiago roars, grinning over at me.
With his steel-colored beard and the confident way he handles the meat, he looks every inch the grizzled lion, protecting his pride, our pride.
These last ten years have been the best I ever could’ve imagined. And I guess that’s saying a lot, because I’ve written twelve books in that time and all of them have been bestsellers. Imagination is sorta my deal.
But as I sit at the long glass table in the garden of our ten-bedroom house, with the sun rising higher and higher, I close my eyes and just thank God or fate or whatever else that I almost got run over one day ten years ago.
“Thinking about the Ferrari?” Santiago says, sitting down next to me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and plants a wonderfully bristly kiss on my cheek.
“Yeah,” I say, finding his hands, feeling the hardened supportive oak of it. “I was actually thinking you should finally get it fixed.”
“Not this again,” he banters, stuffing a bite of burger in his mouth. “Icanttalkrightnow.”
“Ha-ha,” I nudge him, feeling an electric thrum moving through me, and seeing one move through him. Our lust explodes continually, never fading, even as our love grows like the solid base of an everlasting tree. “Seriously, though, are you going to drive around with those dents forever?”
“They’re scrapes, first of all,” he laughs. “And secondly, yes, because they remind me of the happiest moment of my life. The moment you said you’d be my wife.”
“Ew, Dad,” Carmine laughs, biting into his burger. “Try’na eat here.”
“Then do it with your mouth closed,” Santiago chuckles. “Because eating like that, son, makes it too easy to steal some for myself.” He pretends to dart his hand forward, and Carmine promptly slams his mouth shut.
After the burgers, we go into the living room to watch a movie. I lie on the long couch in Santiago’s arms, Carmine and Sebastian sitting cross-legged like they always do, their elbows resting on their knees and big grins on their faces.
Caitlin sits at my side, curled into a ball with her notebook in her hand. She reaches across to show me a drawing of a comic book she’s been working on, her childish script causing a sun-hot panging in my chest.
“Good, Mommy?” she whispers.
“Great,” I tell her, ruffling her hair.
Sunny is asleep in the armchair under a whole army of blankets and Angelica sits next to her little brother, one hand laid protectively on his blankets. She’s such a good older sister, I think maybe because she was the youngest before he came along. She shoots me a look, that oh-so-Angelica look, that means, Don’t worry, Mom, I got this.
Santiago leans in and kisses me softly on the cheek. “Can you believe how lucky we are?”
“No,” I admit quietly. “But I’m thankful everyday that I met you, Mr. CEO.”
“Seriously…” Carmine spins, a cheeky smile on his face. His Santiago-blue eyes sparkle. “I’m gonna barf.”
“I love you, Mommy,” Santiago says, planting another kiss on my cheek, laughing in a carefree way when Carmine mimes sticking his finger down his throat.
“I love you more,” I giggle, unable to stop my laughter when Carmine leaps to his feet and runs over here.
“That’s it!” he yells, cackling.
Santiago jumps up and catches him, and pretty soon my whole brood is wrestling and laughing and loving.
My loves. My life.
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A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
Book 1: Baby Lust
Book 2: Veteran
Book 3: Built
Book 4: Bambino
Book 5: Rescued
Book 6: Leader
Book 7: Professor
Book 8: Burned
Book 9: Worldly
Book 10: Pistol
Book 11: Policed
Book 12: Driven
Book 13: Lucky 13
Book 14: Lumberjacked
Book 15: Protector
Book 16: Carpenter
Book 18: Gardener
Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 21: Cocky CFO
Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
Book 23: Mechanic
Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
Book 32: Statham
Book 33: Bodyguard
Book 34: Greek God
Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
Book 36: Mountain Man
Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
Book 38: Royal Romance
Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery
Book 40: Crocodile Dan D
Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter
Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door
Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace
Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée
Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny
Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter
Book 49: Steamy
Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend
Book 51: Possessive Professor
Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter
Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby
Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day
Book 55: Doctor Next Door
Book 56: Possessive Policeman
Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter
Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter
Book 59: Virgin in New York
Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby
Book 61: Possessive Protector
Book 62: Possessive Australian
Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother
Book 64: Possessive Cowboy
Book 65: Summer Romanced
Book 66: Possessive Prince
Mr. CEO: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 160) Page 8
