“Give me one good reason why I should pay any attention to all this. We’re nothing alike.”
His slow grin melted her, like butter under the hot sun. “No, not alike at all. Neither of us is ruthless, stubborn, deceptive, adventurous. I despise clever, forceful women who can give as good as they get. And we’re terrible in bed together. I can hardly stand to kiss you.”
“True enough,” she said solemnly. “I see another problem.”
“You don’t love me?” he suggested, clearly believing such a thing was impossible, the conceited jackass.
She didn’t answer that one. “You’re only half gypsy. You’re going to have to marry me in an Anglican church as well.”
For a moment he looked stunned. “Are you proposing?”
“I’m countering your proposal.” God, she’d missed him. God, how she loved him. “I was about to come and find you, you know, if these two hadn’t gotten in my way.” She stepped over Tarkington’s prostrate body without a second glance, coming up to him, knowing he could see the love in her eyes. There was no way she could hide it. “And there’s one more thing.”
Before she could ask he’d pulled her into his arms, his mouth on hers, and she wanted to weep with joy. But the time for tears was past. When he finally lifted his head he gave her that glorious, wonderful smile that made her heart melt.
“Yes,” he said, before she could ask the question. “Of course I’m in love with you. Why else would I be here?”
“Maybe you missed my sweet nature?” she suggested.
He laughed, and kissed her again, lifting her feet off the ground and swinging her around. “You’re going to make my life a holy hell, aren’t you?” he said when he set her down again.
“I’ll do my best,” she promised sweetly. “And I love you so much I’m willing to sail back on a boat with you.”
“Ship,” he said automatically, even his dark eyes were smiling. “That’s true love indeed.”
“Yes,” she said, “it is.”