He swept out his arm. “This place. This place can help us heal, Missy. We could build a life here. Or, if you want, just stay for a couple of years, then move on. Matteo has offered me this stretch of beach. We can have a house built and settle down or settle for now. As long as you’re with me, I don’t care.”
“What about the team? Julian?”
“I doubt Julian will be surprised. Leo won’t return—I already know that. Damien wants to step back and go more behind the scenes. Egan can have any position he wants with the agency. They’ll find their own path.” I shrugged. “Or not. We all have to make our decisions based on what is best for ourselves—not the team. Eventually, the two have to separate.” He blew out a long breath. “And Julian will decide what is best for Julian. Maybe one day he’ll find his reason to walk away. At least, I hope he does. It’s a lonely, isolated life otherwise.”
“Like you did?”
He touched my cheek tenderly. “Yes. The bottom line is, I think eventually he’ll find he’s given all he has to give. Like I did. Like Matteo. But he has to do it in his own time.”
He wrapped his hands around mine. “Say yes, Missy. Stay here with me. I love you. And you’re more important than anything else. Stay. Marry me. Make babies with me. Boss me around. Put me in my place. Anything you want, as long as you stay with me.”
“And we’ll build a house here?”
“Yes. One filled with light. A place you can see the stars every night, watch the sunrise every day. A big kitchen for me—a place to garden. We’ll plan it and build it together.”
Tears glimmered in my eyes. “I can boss you around anytime?”
He laughed and kissed my mouth, his lips lingering. “Yes.” He winked. “I don’t promise to obey, but that’s what makes us so great.”
“I do like make-up sex.”
“I like any kind of sex with you.”
“How about celebration sex?” I asked.
He stilled, meeting my eyes. “Are we celebrating?”
“Yes,” I said simply.
Immediately, I was under him on the blanket. “Then get ready to find out what celebration sex is like, sweetheart. I plan on celebrating hard.”
His mouth descended on mine, claiming and possessive. Warm and teasing. Giving and loving. Smiling and happy. I could feel his love in his kiss. His promise of a new life in the shelter and safety of his arms.
That was all I needed.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Missy
I walked down the beach, my feet sinking into the warm sand. The breeze lifted my hair from my neck, the cool air feeling good on my skin. Absently, I rubbed my growing belly, smiling as I felt the push of a tiny hand or foot. I never knew. I was convinced this baby did backflips all the time. Even the doctor admitted he had never known one to be so active.
Our daughter was going to take after me.
I rounded the corner, pausing. Marcus sat on the deck of our house, his posture relaxed, a book on his lap. On the table beside him was a pitcher and two glasses, the red color of the contents bright in the sun. No doubt he had made another batch of his nonalcoholic sangria for me. Just blended fruit juice with tonic, really—but I loved it. So did the baby. She demanded it constantly. That and Marcus’s Alfredo. I needed it every day. And every day without fail, he smiled, kissed me, and pulled out the pans.
Seeing our home always brought a smile to my face. Two stories, rustic, with lots of wood and stone, it matched the other houses on the island. Inside was simple and open. A living/dining area and huge kitchen took up most of the main floor. Marcus had an office he used only on occasion. Upstairs were four bedrooms and baths. Windows and slide-away doors that were more often open than not filled the main floor with sun and the sound of the waves and breeze. Simple furniture, light walls, and thick wood floors made it warm and inviting. We had a garden Marcus puttered in daily, providing everyone on the island with herbs and local vegetables. All the children loved to help him, and he enjoyed spending time with them.
The intense, on-guard man who had rescued me had changed. Gone was the perpetual frown, the constant worry, and the stress. He smiled more, laughed often, but still scowled and grumbled when I pissed him off.
Which I did often since I found his scowling, growling side very sexy. Luckily, it didn’t take much. I knew what buttons to push. And it always ended up with make-up sex, which I had discovered was one of my favorites—although any time I had Marcus pressed against me naked was a favorite.