Black Diaries

63. Moving Fast

I could do nothing but stare at him open-mouthed. And most of my staring wasn't directed at the ring or at his face, either. There was a lot more of him to take in, if you take my meaning.

After a minute or two of silent staring he raised an eyebrow. "A reply would be highly appreciated, Miss McKinney. In the affirmative, if possible."

I finally managed to unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. "But... but..."

"But what?"

"But you're naked! You can't propose to me while you're naked!"

His eyebrow wandered a little higher, and he glanced down at his magnificent naked form. "Why not?"

For a moment, I couldn't think of a good reply—then, I finally fell back on practicalities. "Because it's impossible! For one thing, where did you get that from?" I gestured to the ring and let my eyes slide over his hard, naked body. "Somehow I doubt you pulled it from your pocket!"

He shrugged, and the motion did interesting things to the muscles in his chest and shoulders. "I put it on the grass before I pulled down my trousers."

"You mean to say that the ring you meant to propose to me with, was lying there in the grass for hours and I didn't notice anything?"

His lips twitched. "What can I say? Your attention was...otherwise engaged."

Holy moly! The whole thing felt surreal. The gorgeous kneeling in front of me bare-ass naked, the moon shining above, the grass gently waving in the wind all around us... I could hardly believe this was happening.

"Why now?" It was a half-whisper, half-growl. "Why the heck ask me to marry directly after having sex?"

"I thought it would put you in a good mood, and you might be more likely to say yes," he answered without hesitation. "In retrospect, I realize that might have been a mistake."

"You bet!"

"I should have asked you during sex," he mused. "Preferably just before your orgasm. That way, I would have had a lot more leverage."

Holy...

Had he really just said that? Was this happening?

I realized that yes, this really was happening. There was no way I could possibly come up with a statement as arrogant and loveable as that, not even in the craziest of possible dreams. There was only one who could say something like this. Lord Christopher Conrad Alexander Edward Malcolm Farleigh, 7th Baron Farleigh. The real, flesh and blood version.

Cautiously, I moved towards him, reaching out and stroking the sparkling stones on the silver ring with one finger.

Miss Cassidy McKinney—will you make me the happiest man on earth? Will you marry me?

The words echoed in my head. So impossible, so frightening, and yet... and yet...

I looked up and met his steel-blue gaze. He was devouring me with his eyes.

"But..." I shook my head, dazed. "But we've known each other for such a short time!"

"Incorrect, Miss McKinney. We've known each other for months and months."

I laughed out loud. "Yes! But for most of that time, you hated my guts!"

The next thing I knew, he was clutching my face, and his features were only inches away from mine. I drew in a sharp breath. The look in his eyes... it was indescribable.

"I never hated you! I fell in love with you! Why do you think I could never leave you alone?"

"You... you loved me?"