Losing Control

‘Shh, baby, shh...’

‘It’s just so beautiful.’

I sniff, and it’s so unladylike, but I’m incapable of caring. I can’t believe this is happening. That I’m standing in the most beautiful suite, with the most beautiful man, and the most beautiful rose named after our beautiful daughter.

‘I can’t even begin to understand what’s going on.’

‘It’s simple,’ he says, his hand soft on my hair. ‘I love you, Lexi.’

I push up off his chest and he looks down into my eyes, his hands stroking my face as his eyes rake over me. ‘And if you love me too you only have to say it. You don’t have to marry me. You—’

‘I don’t have to marry you?’

He looks at me quietly for a moment, so serious. ‘No, not if you don’t want to. It’s enough to know you love me.’

‘And if I do want to marry you?’ I say.

He lets out a soft laugh, his expression lifting. ‘I’ll be taking you to Tiffany’s in a few hours.’

‘Tiffany’s...?’ Realisation dawns and brings tiny flutters of excitement rising in my chest. ‘You mean, you haven’t bought a ring yet?’

‘I thought that would be too presumptuous.’

‘And bringing me to New York isn’t?’

‘No, that was about making my proposal perfect...this time.’

My lips curve into a grin I can’t contain.

‘What?’ He frowns and goes from sexy to nervous to cute—and so utterly mine. ‘Too clichéd?’

‘No—no, it’s perfect,’ I say, looking towards the window and the glorious view of Central Park. The sky is pink and peachy in the setting sun and the room glows with it, setting off the roses in all their colourful glory. ‘But what if I’d said no? All this effort and...?’

‘You would have had a few days’ holiday—something you haven’t done in a long time.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Janice.’

‘Janice.’

We say it in unison, our smiles matching.

‘Why a few hours, then?’ I tease, my smile becoming a mock pout.

‘A few hours...?’

‘Before we go to Tiffany’s?’

The happiness inside me is bubbling up so much I fear I’m going to burst if I don’t tell him I love him soon. But I’m holding out. I’ve waited so long to say it without fear hanging over me.

‘Won’t it be closed then?’ I ask.

‘Not for us, my love. They’ve been forewarned that they may have some late-night shoppers.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘Not at all.’