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My breath hitches again.

First, he’s asking me to move in, and now marriage? I thought he was being playful, calling me Mrs. Milton, but now I’m not so sure. We’ve only known each other for a few months—too soon, right?

I open my mouth to tell him so, but Elijah beats me to it.

“I was only joking.” His chest rumbles with laughter. “You should see your face. I told you, we’ll move at your pace.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Sorry, little gem.” Elijah kisses the top of my head. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmph.” I pretend to sulk.

“But in all seriousness, will you someday?”

I gape at him.

His eyes are full of tenderness, longing, and something I’m almost afraid to name.

This isn’t a joke.

“You don’t have to say anything. I haven’t made this easy for you.” Regret flickers across his face as his large hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking over my bottom lip. “You’re the only one who matters to me.”

I cover his hand with my own, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Same.”

This complicated, maddening, caring man has captured my heart without me noticing it until it was too late.

Elijah steps out of the whirlpool first, rivulets of water running down his muscular body.

“Let me get you dried off, little gem.” He grabs a large, fluffy towel and turns back to me, holding out his hand.

I place my hand in his and allow him to help me out of the tub. The cool night air raises goosebumps on my bare skin. Elijah notices and quickly wraps the towel around my shoulders, using one end to gently pat my face and hair dry.

His eyes darken as they roam over my exposed skin. I shiver. Not from the cold but rather from Elijah’s heated gaze that never fails to make me tingle all over.

Slowly, almost reverently, he continues drying my shoulders, arms, and hands. When he reaches my breasts, he takes his extra time, brushing over my sensitive nipples with the towel before moving lower, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a moan. By the time Elijah kneels before me, using the towel to dry each of my legs, I’m trembling with need.

“All done.” Elijah stands and wraps me up in the large towel before he grabs another towel to dry himself off.

Meanwhile, I reach for my swimsuit, but he sweeps me up and tosses me over his broad shoulder.

“Elijah!” I smack his back.

He chuckles and carries me into the house, my damp hair dangling over him. I catch a glimpse of us in the hallway mirror, me in a towel and flushed, him shirtless with swim trunks riding low on his hips.

Elijah’s large hand grips my thighs to keep me steady as I wiggle against him, earning me a sharp smack on my backside. “Behave.”

Once inside the master bedroom, Elijah tosses me onto the large four-poster bed and wastes no second pouncing on me. His hard body covers mine, one hand pinning my wrists above my head. The towel loosens, rendering me completely at Elijah’s mercy.

His teeth nibble at my ear, voice dropping an octave. “Now, where were we?”

I arch into him instinctively, craving more contact, more friction. “I believe you mentioned something about screaming your name?”

“Hmm, I do recall that.”

His head dips lower, tongue flicking out to circle one taut nipple, making me squirm beneath him. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

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