“Neither did I,” she admitted, laughing at the discovery that he’d fel* the same.
“Remember the cocktail party?” He nibbled at the edge of her lip while his hands tested the feel of her body arched to his length.
“Yes,” she murmured.
“When I introduced you as Mrs. MacKinley, that’s when I knew for certain that was who I wanted you to be—my wife. She was no longer some faceless woman I hadn’t met. She was you—standing in the same room with me—and already possessing my name.” He lifted his head about an inch above her lips. “Are you convinced now that I love you?”
“Yes.” She was filled with the knowledge, its golden light spreading through every inch of her body.
“Then let’s make it legal before something else separates us,” he urged.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“It’s about time,” he muttered and covered her mouth with a long kiss, not giving her a chance to worry about anything but loving him.