“Yes.” He shook his head at her reproving look. “No,” he admitted. “I need some air,” he said abruptly. “Do you need some air?”
She looked at him as if he was mad. It was December and her flimsy dress was not made for this weather. But she knew Lazzero well enough now to know that when he needed to talk, she needed to listen.
They collected their coats and walked hand in hand out into a winter wonderland, Central Park covered in a dusting of snow that made it look as if it had been dipped in icing sugar. It was magical, as if they had the park all to themselves. She was thinking it had been the perfect idea, when Lazzero tugged her to a halt in a pretty clearing flanked by snow-covered trees.
She tilted her head back to look up at him. But now he was holding both her hands in his, and she thought she could detect a slight tremor in them, and her heart started to hammer in her chest. “Lazzero,” she breathed, closing her fingers tight around his. “What are you doing?”
He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, took a deep breath, then sank down to one knee. Her legs went so weak at the sight of him there, she thought she might join him.
He delved into the inside pocket of his dark suit. Pulled out his fist. Uncurled his fingers. Her breath caught in her chest as the moonlight revealed the magnificent asscher-cut diamond in his palm.
Her ring. The ring she’d dreamed about. The ring she wanted back. Desperately.
Her eyes brimmed with tears that spilled over and ran down her cheeks. A frown of uncertainty crossed Lazzero’s face. “You like the ring, don’t you? I’ve been going back and forth all week on it. I thought maybe I should buy you another, but I bought this one for you. Because it reminded me of you. Full of life, vibrant, impossibly strong.”
She stifled a sob. He made her feel strong. Impenetrable. Bulletproof. As if she could take on the world.
“I love the ring,” she managed to choke as she shoved her hand at him. He slid the ring on, the heavy weight of it sliding a piece of her heart back into place.
His face smoothed out. “I’m no Alfredo,” he said huskily. “But I want to have that once-in-a-lifetime love with you, Chiara. I want to be the guy who’s always there for you. The one who never lets you down. If you will do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Her fingers tugged at the lapels of his coat. Rising to his feet, he collected her against him and kissed her until she was breathless. And then buttons on coats were a problem in their haste to get closer to each other. When that proved too frustrating an exercise, Lazzero swung her up into his arms and carried her out of the park.
“You’re giving up your job at the café tomorrow,” he commanded, lifting his hand to flag a taxi on Fifth Avenue.
“You just want me to make you coffee every morning,” she accused, a massive smile on her face.
“Yes,” he agreed, his face an arrogant canvas of satisfaction, “I do. But only if it comes with you.”
* * * * *
Coming next month
MARRIAGE MADE IN BLACKMAIL
Michelle Smart
‘You want me to move?’
‘Yes.’
A gleam pulsed in his eyes. ‘Make me.’
Instead of closing her hand into a fist and aiming it at his nose as he deserved, Chloe placed it flat on his cheek.
An unwitting sigh escaped from her lips as she drank in the ruggedly handsome features she had dreamed about for so long. The texture of his skin was so different from her own, smooth but with the bristles of his stubble breaking through…had he not shaved? She had never seen him anything other than clean-shaven.
His face was close enough for her to catch the faint trace of coffee and the more potent scent of his cologne.
Luis was the cause of all this chaos rampaging through her. She hated him so much but the feelings she’d carried for him for all these years were still there, refusing to die, making her doubt herself and what she’d believed to be the truth.
Her lips tingled, yearning to feel his mouth on hers again, all her senses springing to life and waving surrender flags at her.
Just kiss him…
Closing her eyes tightly, Chloe gathered all her wits about her, wriggled out from under him and sat up.
Her lungs didn’t want to work properly and she had to force air into them.
She shifted to the side, needing physical distance, suddenly terrified of what would happen if she were to brush against him or touch him in any form again.
Fighting to clear her head of the fog clouding it, she blinked rapidly and said, ‘Do I have your word that your feud with Benjamin ends with our marriage?’
Things had gone far enough. It was time to put an end to it.
‘Sí. Marry me and it ends.’
Continue reading
MARRIAGE MADE IN BLACKMAIL
Michelle Smart
Available next month
Copyright ©2018 by Michelle Smart
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His Million-Dollar Marriage Proposal Page 18
