His hopeless dreamer with the vivid green eyes had a lot to answer for. She’d knocked down his walls with her openness and honesty. She’d nagged him into remembering his father again—not the loss of his father that had once torn him apart, but remembering the depth of love that had once been the core of his family. It hurt him. She’d hurt him. Regan had set him up with impossible tests, by trusting him from the start. By believing in him. By standing by him, stubborn as a bulldog, and foolishly risking her fragile heart while he took a ridiculous amount of time to figure out what he should have ages ago.
There was no way in heaven or hell he could live without her.
“I love you,” he said fiercely.
A slow, soft smile curved her lips—the mother lode of precious smiles, and it was intimately meant for him. The joy radiating from Regan came from the inside, but Cole still wanted to be sure she understood—completely—where he was coming from.
“I mean love you. The messy kind. The dangerous, sticky, entangling kind. The kind that involves kids and commitments. The kind that involves...”
“What?”
But he didn’t say the word magic.
He didn’t bring up the subject of marriage again for several hours, either. They obviously needed to have a logical, practical discussion, concerning the realities of where they were going to work and set up house together and how many small Shepherds she wanted to raise. Logic and practical common sense had always dominated his life...but just then Cole had far more important priorities on his mind.
He wanted to treat Regan to a little illusion, a little magic...a little of her own medicine.
He had in mind making the pink topaz at her throat burn bright enough to light up their night.
And he did.
Pink Topaz Page 24
