“Hawaii,” she replied with no hesitation. It was one of our favorite places. Then she grinned. “England, next. You get your beach; I get my history.”
“Done.”
Standing in one swift movement, I surprised her by scooping her up into my arms and carrying her inside; pausing only once to set down the precious book on the hall table.
Her little gasp made me smile. “I thought you felt old, Dr. Spencer?”
I turned and pressed her into the wall, smirking at her playfully, as she yanked off my tie. “Suddenly, Mrs. Spencer, I feel remarkably frisky.”
A brilliant smile graced her lips. Reaching up, she pulled her hair from its holder, the long blonde waves falling around her shoulders. Her eyes glowed in the muted light.
In that instant, she looked like the Avery from the first day I saw her, crouched in the doorway, and fell in love with her.
I carried her to our bed, tossing her on the mattress, listening to her carefree laughter.
My sweet, little Sprite. I wanted her as intensely now as I did back then.
I always would—until my last breath.
Her arms opened.
I went willingly.