Page 82 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

He shifted his gaze from the painting to her. “You were able to paint this without me posing for it?” he asked, amazed.

“Yes. I painted it from memory of my sexiest image of you. I doubt that you know what it would do to me each time I saw you walking across the pier with your jacket slung over your shoulder. I got hot and bothered each and every time, because I knew you were coming here for me and what I would get when you got here.”

Her words spiraled inside him, touching places only she had access to. “I think it is beautiful, Zara. I am deeply touched you took the time to do this.” He took the painting from her to study it in more detail.

“You were on my mind most of the day anyway. I couldn’t think of a better way of spending my time. I love you, Saint.”

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

He placed the painting aside and pulled her into his arms to hold her and appreciate everything they had. All the love he felt in his heart was seeping through his veins. This was how love was supposed to be, how it was supposed to feel and how it was to be shared.

When she lifted her head to stare up at him, he stared back at her. Their love was meant to be. With that belief firmly planted in every part of him, he lowered his mouth to hers.

33

Saint opened the door to the cottage and then stood back to let Zara enter. “Did you enjoy our trip to New York, sweetheart?” he asked, while rolling in their luggage.

Zara swirled around the middle of the room. “Yes! It was wonderful. I love New York and being there with you was special.”

She truly meant it. After checking in to their hotel room, they had bought tickets to a Broadway play for the following night. They’d eaten dinner at an Italian restaurant and afterward, they walked around Times Square.

He had a meeting the next morning and that gave her time to visit her boutique in Lower Manhattan. Then she had met with college friends for lunch at a café in Harlem. Later she and Saint had dinner before attending the play. Afterward, they met up with one of his NFL pals and his wife, who lived in the city.

Saint’s business meeting had ended at noon the next day, so they caught the train to Philly to attend a jazz concert. He had booked them in first class, which came with their own little private compartment, a delicious meal and drinks. She thought it was so romantic. The trip to New York was what they had needed to further bond the love they shared.

“It’s still early. Do you want to go out to grab dinner?” She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“There’s no need. I talked to Vaughn before leaving New York. He told me the soup of the day at the Green Fig was black bean soup with crab meat and andouille sausage. He knows that’s your favorite and offered to deliver some when we got back.”

“That was kind of him, and he’s right. That’s my favorite as well as his. I’m surprised he’d willingly part with any.”

“Vaughn’s a good guy,” Saint said, laughing.

“I know. That’s why I plan to keep him as a brother.” Turning, she said, “I need to go into the kitchen and—”

Zara didn’t finish what she was about to say. Saint grabbed her hand and turned her back around. He whispered her name before leaning down to capture her mouth with his. She loved the taste of him and how his tongue took possession of hers with a hunger and greed that made her groan. More importantly, she loved him. All of him. Every single thing about him.

After the kiss, he stared down at her as they tried to bring their breathing under control. Then he reached up and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You are amazing, Zara Miller, and I love you so much.”

His words touched her. “I think you’re amazing and I love you, too.”

Then she watched as he took a little white box out of the pocket of his jacket before lowering to one knee. Her breath caught in her throat upon realizing what he was about to do. Staring up at her with an intensity she felt in every part of her body, he asked, “Zara, will you marry me?”

Tears sprang into her eyes. She knew what asking her to marry him meant. He was taking a chance and putting his heart on the line. The last woman he’d asked that question, on two occasions, had turned him down. But Zara wouldn’t. The man kneeling before her was her Saint, and she would be honored to spend the rest of her life by his side as his wife.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you,” she said, swiping at her tears. “I will be honored to become Zara Toussaint and have your babies. I know you will be a wonderful husband and father, and I promise to be a good wife and mother.” And she meant every word.

A huge smile covered his face as he slid the diamond ring on her finger. She blinked twice when she looked at it. “Saint, this ring is beautiful. Simply breathtaking. I love it.”

He kissed her hand that wore his ring before getting to his feet. “I’m glad you like it. I bought it while we were in New York but wanted to wait and propose here on Pelican Bay. This cottage will always be special to us.”

“Yes, it will,” she said, still swiping away her tears. She wondered when her mother had bequeathed Pelican Bay to her, if she had known the extent of happiness this cottage would bring her.

She stared down at her ring again. It was absolutely dazzling. Holding her hand out in front of her, she thought it looked amazing on her finger. “I love it, Saint,” she said again.

“I’m glad you do. And just so you know, I called Vaughn from New York and told him what I planned to do. Your brother gave us his blessings. He and Sierra will be arriving shortly with our dinner and to help us celebrate our engagement. Before they arrive, I need to do this again.” He pulled her into his arms for another kiss.

There was no telling how long the kiss would have lasted if they hadn’t heard a knock at the door. Knowing the only other people with access to the bay were Vaughn and Sierra, she moaned in protest when Saint ended their kiss.

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