14

Darla swallowed hard, observing Bobby’s reflection.

His eyes gleamed, brimming with love. And commitment. Promising her forever.

This man had once shattered her heart, and she had vowed to never be foolish and place herself in a position where she could experience that all-encompassing pain again. Yet she had opened that door, with the same man , despite everything in her screaming it was a reckless move.

But maybe deep, deep down she had known he would never betray her again.

She had chosen to trust him.

And he had come through for her.

Robert was hers. For the rest of their lives together.

But she had lied earlier, giving in to her lingering fear.

Tonight might not be the night he proposed, but she was ready.

Ready to say yes.

Yes to giving him her heart.

Yes to the forever he promised.

And she could no longer contain the words flooding her soul. “I love you, Robert Bjorn Bellerose.”

He gave a short gasp followed by a glow of satisfaction. His features softened, and he placed his lips against her neck, right there beneath her ear. That soft touch sent shockwaves of desire through her, coalescing deep in her core. She squirmed, clenching her inner muscles, and couldn’t stop a small sigh escaping.

“Darla,” he whispered, their eyes locking.

Losing herself in that almost translucent blue stare, she whispered back, “How soundproof is the privacy screen?”

His eyes flared. “Completely.”

“I’ve always had this fantasy involving a limousine ….”

Bobby’s body stilled. “Tell me.”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen the injuries from people not wearing seatbelts, so alas, it will remain a fantasy.”

“I can be inventive,” he said, touching her knee. His hand warmed her skin through the gossamer silk covering her leg. “Whatever shall I do next?”

Darla settled back against the seat, demurely placing her hands on the leather on either side of her hips. She moved her legs, creating a small gap between her knees. “Slide your hand higher,” she said, turning her head to meet his stare directly.

Slowly, very slowly, Bobby obeyed, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. The limousine cut through the dark Texas countryside, the rasp of callouses on silk joining the low hum of the engine. The air surrounding them turned thick, their breathing labored, laden with expectation. Her skirt shifted, a cool breeze wafted over her exposed knees, drifting higher as his hand moved farther up her leg.

He stopped where her thighs touched. Mere inches to go. “Open wider, Darla.”

She moved her outside leg. Cool air hit her heated core, and she shivered.

His thumb caressed her skin, stopping abruptly when he encountered the lace band holding the silk stocking in place. He growled, and leaned in, almost looming over her despite the constraints of his seatbelt. “A garter?”

She grinned. “Surprise.” And there was another surprise waiting for him. She just hadn’t expected it to be discovered before they had dinner. “Higher,” she instructed.

His hand passed over the lace to bare skin, the tip of his thumb skimming where her leg joined her hip.

Almost there.

She fought to remain still, to not tilt into his touch.

“You’re on fire, love. For me,” he gloated, a lopsided, self-satisfied smile twitching his lips.

Years ago, he had set her ablaze. Anyone in between had been a cool substitute. She lifted her hand, splaying over the back of his head, his hair springy and soft against her palm, and lost herself in his mesmerizing stare. “Only you. For always.”

Holding her gaze captive, he said, “Lift your leg” — his fingers pressed into her soft inner thigh flesh — “over mine.”

As if dragging her limb through quagmire, she obeyed, anticipation quickening her breath.

Bobby’s hand moved higher. Closer.

And finally, finally he touched her.

His breath hitched, and his stare darkened. “Darla,” he groaned, cupping her core. “You’re not wearing panties.”

She fluttered her eyes. “Oops.”

His grin turned downright lascivious. “You are such a naughty woman,” he said. “And so very wet.”

“Only for you,” she repeated, rasping.

“Damn straight it’s only for me.”

His fingers started their dance. And she eased her body down into a slight slouch, allowing him deeper access. Tilting his head, his mouth hovered over hers. “I’m gonna mess up your lipstick.”

“I’ll fix it afterward.”

His lips touched hers, mimicking the movement of his fingers. Light and teasing at first, then harder and faster as her need gained strength, as she climbed higher and higher, desperate to reach that alluring peak. And when she did, she bucked her hips wildly, yet he stayed with her, knowing where to apply pressure. He caught her keening cry with his mouth when she tipped over the edge, her body shuddering out of control. He continued his ministrations, easing her down until she slumped, depleted, against the leather.

He lifted his mouth from hers and winked. “Told you I was good at improvising.”

“Guess I’ll keep you around,” she replied, breathless.

He chuckled. “I am so very grateful for that.” His expression turned serious. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, Darla. I promise you’ll never regret it.”

“I know.” And she did. With absolute certainty.

This time she and Bobby were for keeps.

He dug into his jacket pocket and whipped out a … handkerchief. And proceed to wipe her clean and pull her skirt back into place.

“Quite the knight, aren’t you?” she wryly intoned, shifting upright.

He folded the cotton square and gave her a sly look as he repocketed it. “I know for a fact our hotel room has a couch. Maybe we can pretend it’s the back seat of a limousine? I’ll even let you call me Sir Robert.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She flashed him a saucy grin. “Sir Robert.”

*

They dined at a top Lubbock restaurant, sharing a crab starter. She chose the filet mignon as an entree, and Bobby the ribeye steak, the latter vying for first place with her melt-in-your- mouth filet. They took their desserts (key lime pie for Bobby and strawberry short cake with extra cream for her) to-go.

It was a short ride up to their hotel room where they pretended the couch was a limo seat. She whispered instructions in her knight’s ear, which he obediently followed. He did, however, add some embellishments of his own with the help of the extra whipped cream.

After a shower, they climbed into bed and shared his key lime pie.

And fell asleep watching Pretty Woman.

*

Christmas morning …

Bobby was still fast asleep. Which suited Darla just fine. She slipped from the bed and made her way to the living area, stifling a yawn. They’d gone out last night, first to her parents’ home for the traditional Miller Christmas Eve dinner, after which they attended the midnight mass at church.

The glow from the microwave clock was enough for her to find the switch for the Christmas lights, and she snapped them on. The tree (exactly six feet) lit up like a … well, like the Christmas tree it was.

She found yesterday’s card she had placed on the coffee table and walked back to the tree. Fastening the card to a branch with a miniature peg, she made sure the illustration (the number twenty-four intertwined with Christmas lights) faced outward. It had accompanied her Christmas present (a pair of diamond earrings) with its message:

You are the sparkle in my life.

Picking up the soft cashmere blanket draped over the couch, she wrapped it around her shoulders. Not because she was cold, but because she needed the security it represented. The blanket was another gift from Bobby. One she had received on the nineteenth with a card depicting a polar bear holding a wrapped present. A half-smile formed as she recalled the note:

It reminds me of your skin – delicate perfection.

Folding her legs beneath her, she settled on the couch, rubbing her hands over the soft wool. It was patterned in muted greys, pinks, and blues.

The same colors of his first gift twenty-four days ago.

And today was Christmas Day.

And it was over. Done.

No more notes. No more gifts. No more surprises.

Bobby had achieved his goal of wooing his way back into her heart.

And she had achieved her desire to be pregnant by Christmas.

So why was her heart aching and her eyes watering?

A shift in the air alerted her to his arrival moments before he sank down beside her. “Morning,” he whispered, and tugged the blanket down several inches to nuzzle the exposed skin in her neck. “Merry Christmas.”

Blinking rapidly, she tried to clear her vision.

“Whoa.” He shifted forward and twisted to give her a thorough look, brushing away an escaping tear. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re crying, Darla. That’s not nothing.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s over,” she whispered.

All color leached from his face, he grabbed her shoulders, turning her to fully face him. “Over? Never. I refuse to accept that. I love you. You love me. We’re having a baby.”

She gaped at him, totally confused.

The blanket fell away as he moved. As he slipped from the couch to his knees, grabbing hold of her hands this time, gripping them tightly in his. “Don’t do this to us, Darla. Did I do something wrong? Say the wrong thing last night? Offend your family in some way? Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Promise. Just tell me how. But I will not accept that we are over.”

Oh . Oh.

“No,” she protested. “You’ve got—”

“Please, Darla. We’ll go as slow as—”

She pulled a hand free and placed it over his mouth cutting off his words. “ Advent is over.”

He sucked in a breath. “Advent?”

“Your notes, Robert. They are finished. Not us.”

“Not us?”

“Not us.”

Color seeped back into his face, and he gave her a sheepish look. “Right. Advent is over.”

“And I’m sad because I’m going to miss those cards and—”

“I have one for today.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

Bobby kissed her palm and released her hand. “Don’t move,” he instructed, leaping to his feet.

She watched him retreat, brushing away the fresh tears before he returned.

He was back in a flash, holding a familiar envelope in his hand. “It stopped being about Advent weeks ago, Darla.” He dropped back down to his knees, “I love you with everything I have inside me and I will do my best to remind you of that fact daily.” He placed the envelope in her hand. “And I expect you to remind me if I ever fall short on that promise.”

Darla turned the envelope over, yet hesitated, her hands shaking slightly. She eased the flap open and tugged out the card.

It was blank. She flipped it over.

Her breath hitched at the two simple words in his flowy script.

Marry me.