The Passengers (Book #2)

𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔅𝔢𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔈𝔵𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔉𝔢𝔞𝔯

Stefan unlocks a cabin door.

"You want to talk in your bedroom?" I ask, my voice somewhere between excitement and fear.

He turns to me, slightly startled. "It is a suite, the largest on the ship, with a sitting room and a private promenade. I would never presume to take you into my bedroom. But if you are uncomfortable, we can surely go somewhere else. I just thought a private moment might be nice."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . I guess I'm just nervous."

He opens the door. "Nervous good or nervous bad?"

I step into a beautiful sitting room with elaborate dark wood paneling, a fireplace, and a plush seating area. "That depends on what you say next."

He smiles at me with his clear green eyes, and my stomach drops. He gestures toward the couch. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Sherry would be lovely," I say as I take a seat. I'm not entirely sure why I said that. Do I even like sherry?

Stefan walks over to a set of crystal decanters and pours a reddish brown liquid into a crystal glass. He hands it to me and takes a seat next to me on the couch.

"What did you want to talk about?" I sip my drink; it's sweet and strong and tastes slightly of cherries.

"What do you want, Sooji?"

"Want?"

"In the whole world, I mean. If you could have anything, what would it be?"

I meet his eyes. It's a strange question, but somehow it feels relevant right now, like I was just thinking about this very topic. "Well, I would like for things to be less complicated . . . simple and happy. Yes, I want to be happy. But I think that's what everyone wants."

"Do you think you could be happy with me?"

I sip my sherry. "What you said in the lounge. The story you told them. What did you say it?"

"To get you out of your situation, of course."

"Oh." My chest deflates, like when you make eye contact with someone and then realize they're actually looking at the person behind you. "You embarrassed me in front of my aunt and Mrs. Brown. They all thought . . ."

He grins. "No. You embarrassed yourself un front of those women. I saved you."

I stand up, more humiliated than I've ever been. "Thank you for the sherry. I have to go."

He stands up, too, blocking my exit to the door. "You said I was too young to get married."

"I know what I said."

"And you are younger than I."

"Also known by me." I put my sherry on the mantel and push past him.

He grabs my hand. "But maybe we are not too young."

"What?" I turn to look at him.

"Maybe there is a reason that I left my aunt's, that I didn't like any of the girls she introduced me to. That I am on the Titanic and so are you."

My heart pounds, and I wonder f he can feel it through my hand. "Are you saying you want to marry me?"

"Would you say yes if I am?"

I warm from his words, from the pull of them. "Yes," I breathe.

He places my hand on his chest and wraps his arms around my waist. He looks down at me. "Then I am asking."

My body presses into his. "And I am accepting."

He lean his head down and gently places his lips on mine. They're warm and strong.