Page 126 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Kit hid her smile as she moved her hands toward Thorne’s cheeks. “Thorne,” she repeated seriously.He had earned this.“You are my lover, my friend, my family. You are the reason Iwake up in the morning. I want nothing more in life than to know you need me the same way I need you.”
He blinked.
He blinked again.
Finally, Thorne opened his mouth, then closed it, looking bemused. And Kit’s lips lifted, knowing she’d shocked him speechless.
“What I’m trying to say, Thorne, is that I like you rather a lot, and I’d like to spend the rest of my life doing your fiddly buttons and listening to you complain about sheep and also join your family.”
There were tears in his eyes when Thorne pulled her against his chest. “I dinnae deserve ye,” he rasped.
She nodded cheekily. “I know, but you’ve got me anyhow. Better make the most of it.”
“I love ye, Kit. Please be my wife?”
Pursing her lips, she pretended to think about it. “No, I think it only fair thatyoubecomemyhusband.”
With a loud whoop of joy, Thorne scooped her from her feet and swung her around. There was cheering in the background—when had Titsworth joined them?—and then Thorne was wrapping her in his hold.
Keeping her safe.
Cherishing her.
“I love you, Thorne. I will marry you.”
“Thank God,” he growled teasingly, lowering his lips to hers. “Finally.”
She was laughing when they came together, and knew even more joy was in their future.
Theirforever.
Epilogue
As it turned out,weddings weremuchless fun when they were your own.
Thorne had been to his share of weddings, especially in the last few years as each of his friends—nay, hisbrothers—had found love, and each one had been full of excitement and flirtations and drink. Lots of drink.
But when it wasyougetting married, you had to stay sober, no matter how much whisky might help to steady your nerves.
And it wasyouwho had to manage the details like guest lists and locations and what kind of canapes to serve.
Because Kit certainly didn’t give two shites.
To be fair, neither did Thorne, and the pair of them had spent their share of hours chuckling about it all, in between kisses.
Essentially, Titsworth had ended up planning their betrothal ball—which had been a smashing success, and ended up being Kit’s official introduction to Society as the Countess of Bonkinbone. At least, her introduction to Society in a dress. She’d been wonderful, and Thorne could not have been anyprouder of the way she faced their scrutiny and whispers with a brave tilt of her chin and a confident smile.
Christ, she was magnificent, and he was lucky to be hers.
It was a thought he had multiple times a day.
When he woke, wrapped in her arms.
When he kissed her, reveling in the way he could draw moans from her.
When she made him laugh, or when he finally teased her into rolling her eyes, or when she tried to be romantic and failed horribly.
When she played for him as he read, her music—her presence—keeping him grounded and focused.
