Page 216 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

‘Iwantto marry you, Mateo.’

‘And I want to marryyou, Alice.’ He sucked in a shaky breath and met her gaze with steady conviction. ‘I want to marry you, and not for the reasons you probably think. Yes, I truly believe that two parents are better than one. Yes, I sincerely think that for the sake of the child we have created it’s better for us to be together than apart. And yes, I admit that I was a blind fool, and for far too long didn’t look beyond those reasons to unearth the real reason I want to marry you...which is that I love you.’

‘Youlove me?’

‘You fell through my front door to get out of a blizzard, and in that instant my life changed for ever. I just didn’t realise it at the time and, even when it should have been obvious, I ignored it because I’d lived my life assuming that love wasn’t something I was capable of feeling. I watched my father disintegrate when my mother died and, even though I loved him, something in me died then and that something was trust in the power of love.

‘When Bianca lost the baby we were going to have, I understood how much pain love could bring, because I loved that unborn child. So, Alice, by the time we met I had well and truly built a fortress of steel around my heart, and I was so sure that no one could ever get past it. Yet you proved me wrong. You got past all my barriers as easily as if they had never existed. I just didn’t see it at the time.’

‘Oh, Mateo.’

Had Alice been expecting this? Not in a million years. Joy flooded her and she leant towards him with bright eyes.

‘I’ve been hiding,’ she whispered. ‘I fell in love with you after two minutes, and ever since I came round to the idea of marriage I’ve been hiding my love, protecting my heart, because I thought that if you knew how I felt you’d be appalled.’

‘Talk to me. I want to hear.’

‘Okay, so, to start with I felt that it would be just too painful being married to you, living with you, loving you and knowing that you were never going to return my feelings. But then when I thought of you with someone else...another woman...’

‘A woman I had no idea I was supposedly dating...’

Alice smiled and blushed. ‘Well, that’syourfault for not denying it.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

‘Well, I knew in a heartbeat that that would be a lot more painful than being with a guy I was crazy about who wasn’t crazy about me.’

‘So, my darling...’ Mateo curved his hand on her cheek and smiled with such tenderness that her heart wanted to burst. ‘Now that we’ve established we need each other and love each other...can I ask for your hand in marriage? A real marriage with love and affection and all the happy-ever-afters I never thought would be on the cards for me. Because I can’t live without you.’

‘I can’t think of anything else in the world...’ Alice breathed. ‘Anything else on your list of demands? Because, for the record, my answer isyes.’

‘Now that you mention it...’ His voice was low, loving, wickedly sexy.

‘Anything.’

‘I’ve discovered that all the money sitting there in my bank account means nothing, because all I want to do is spend it on you, and you’ve consistently refused to be persuaded into accepting anything from me.’

‘Not true!’ Alice protested, laughing and delivering tender kisses on his cheek, the side of his mouth and against his neck. ‘Okay, largely true.’

‘A small church wedding is fine but, before we do that, I want to sweep you off to the Caribbean. Call it a honeymoon before the marriage, because after we’re married you might feel just a little too uncomfortable to travel.’

‘Well, you’ve already swept me off my feet, so who am I to object to a little more of the same...?’

Within days, Alice realised that all those signs of opulence—the club where the hush of the fabulously rich had had her gaping, the small but perfectly formed ski chalet, his palatial house in the best postcode in London—all paled in comparison to the black, sleek private jet that flew them to an island in the Caribbean where the wealthy and famous had their discreet, intensely private bolt holes.

From private jet they went on his own small, private yacht to a villa that sat within walking distance from a beach with pale, soft sand that melted into turquoise sea that was calm as a lake. He’d told her to pack light and, so she had, taking the bare minimum, floaty dresses and a hastily purchased maternity swimsuit.

She’d left the tentative warmth of spring to bask in the perfection of tropical heat and enjoyed a week of doing absolutely nothing. She paddled, sat with the warm water lapping around her and watched as Mateo struck out towards a blue horizon, as frighteningly good in the sea as he was on the slopes.

She lay by the side of his infinity pool, shaded by trees with the Technicolor vibrancy of flowering bushes and plants all around, and drowsily listened to the call of birds and the lazy buzz of insects. There was a personal chef who prepared all their food before disappearing at the end of the day, leaving them together to sit on his sprawling veranda with velvety darkness all around them and the sound of the rolling ocean in the background.

And, of course, they made love.

She knew he adored her pregnant body; he explored every inch of it, transporting her to a world of sensory excitement, leaving her sated and complete.

And when after a week they headed back to London, as he helped her into the Range Rover waiting for them at the airfield, he murmured that she was his queen and she could expect a whole lot more of the same in the years to come.

Could anyone have asked for more?

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