Bree drew in a long breath, which didn’t help steady her racing nerves. “I don’t know what to say.” Her voice came out high and squeaky.
“‘Yes’ would work.” Gavin’s gray eyes sparkled, much like the glittering ring in his palm. Odd that it lay flat in his hand. Didn’t men in the movies usually hold it between their fingers?
But this wasn’t a movie. It was her life. Which had suddenly taken such a strange turn that she hardly knew who she was anymore, let alone how she should react.
“But we only just met. You don’t know me.” What if he married her, then realized she was just boring old Bree, not the fantasy woman he’d built up in his mind? “You probably think I’m a lot more exciting and interesting than I really am.”
Gavin cocked his head. “You should have more faith in yourself.” He eased closer on the bed and rested his free hand at her waist. “We’ve spent hours talking and you’re undoubtedly the most thoughtful, intelligent and interesting person I’ve ever met.”
“Am I really?” The question flew out before she could stop it. How embarrassing to go fishing for a compliment like that.
“No question about it. And that’s not all. I’m entranced by your beauty, too.”
“Oh, come on.” She blushed. “I’m hardly a head turner.”
“That’s where you are so wrong. Heads turn wherever you go.”
Bree bit her lip. Elle’s makeover had apparently had its intended effect. She’d never attracted so much attention in her life as she had in the past couple of weeks. Even the time she’d accidentally worn two unmatched shoes to school on Awards Day.
“I’d be a good husband.”
“I’m sure you would.”
But doubts still niggled. Why was he trying so hard to sell himself? Couldn’t they date for a while and test each other out more?
“I’d cherish and honor and ravish you.” A mischievous gleam lit his eyes. A flash of desire echoed in Bree’s belly. “Why don’t you just try it on?” He shrugged, as if it was something casual. Try on an engagement ring and see how the whole engagement experience feels.
Bree shrugged, trying to conceal the odd mass of feelings roiling in her stomach.
“Why not?” Her squeaky voice betrayed her apprehension.
Gavin held the ring for her. She raised her hand. She rarely wore jewelry at all, and never on that finger. Everyone knew it was bad luck to put anything but an engagement ring on it. She’d never really expected to put a ring on that finger, resigned as she was to her quiet life with her cats.
Now a new realm of possibilities glittered, facets shimmering in the dim light. She poked out her naked finger, clutching the sheets about her with her other hand. A shiver of fear and excitement slashed through her as the cool metal touched her skin. Would it be too small? She wasn’t a petite little thing, though her hands were probably the most delicate part of her. Would it stick firm over a knuckle and refuse to budge?
That would be a sign.
But it slid on, smoothly, all the way to the right spot.
“A perfect fit.” Gavin’s triumphant gaze fixed on hers.
“It is. How did you manage that?”
“Pure luck. And I think it’s a message from the universe that it fits so well.” He stroked her hand where the ring glittered on her finger. “I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but it’s a special ring. It belonged to my grandmother, who was married to the love of her life for fifty-seven years.”
The three stones sat in a pretty setting. Looking at it now, she could see it was probably designed in the twenties. “It’s lovely.”
The ring buzzed a little against her skin. She wasn’t sure how she felt about wearing someone else’s wedding ring. It seemed to underscore the sensation that she’d accidentally stepped into someone else’s life.
“My grandmother was very special to me. She gave me the ring in her will so I could give it to my wife one day. I can’t believe how well it fits you. Like it was made for you.”
Bree gulped. Now that the ring was on her finger, did that mean she’d said yes? “It’s beautiful. Are you sure you want to part with it?”
Gavin held her hand. “I don’t want to part with it. I want it on the finger of the woman I love.”
Bree’s stomach clenched. The word love hung in the air like a flash of smoke from a magic trick.
That’s what had been missing, why the whole proposal had felt rather odd, forced—because he hadn’t told her he loved her.
Until now.
“I love you, Bree.” He caressed her hand with his thumb. “It’s a new love, untried and untested, I’ll admit. But I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Something in my gut, in my heart, tells me that you’re the woman for me.”
The conviction in his voice wrapped around her like a cloak. Did she love him? She had no idea what love was even supposed to feel like. Arousal and desire sizzled through her like steam, no denying that. And Gavin was sweet and charming and intelligent and fun. And completely hot.
All the things she would have looked for in her dream husband. If she was looking for a husband. Which she certainly should be, according to pretty much everyone she knew. She was just so used to being suspicious, to doubting the motives of any man who came near her because he might be more interested in the Kincannon coffers than in her.
“There’s something special between us, isn’t there?” His voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes, there is.” Bree frowned. The connection between them crackled right now, as she sat on the bed, her hands in his. She’d never felt so comfortable with a man, so safe. She’d certainly never felt so desirable and intriguing. “I do feel it.”
She looked down at the three diamonds twinkling on her finger.
“Will you marry me?” Gavin’s simple question, asked with hope in his wide gray gaze, blew away any last traces of resistance.
“Yes. I will.” Exhilaration—and terror—flashed through her as she said the words. But she also felt a fierce conviction that this was right. Strange—and sudden—as it was, their pairing was meant to be.
Gavin wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. The warmth from his body mingled with hers and possibly for the first time in her life—at least since her mother died—she felt totally protected and cared for.
And loved.
As they pulled onto the Golden Gate Bridge in Gavin’s car, Bree snuck a glance backward at the city. When she returned, she’d be a married woman. Mrs. Gavin Spencer. They were getting married right over the bridge in Sausalito.
Gavin had wanted to get married as soon as possible. No guests, just the two of them—and Bree’s cats. Gavin had sweetly insisted that they come, too, since they were members of the family. One of his former clients owned a boutique hotel with a terrace overlooking the city that hosted small weddings quite often. He’d promised to provide the wedding officiant, a photographer and two witnesses.
The whole thing had been arranged so fast. The only holdup was the prenup—Gavin had insisted on one, maybe to prove that he wasn’t a gold digger. She found the whole thing embarrassing. Didn’t it imply that they might one day get divorced? She didn’t want to think about that. Still, he’d managed to get one drawn up and signed in less than a day, and now here they were, barely forty-eight hours after his proposal.
Gavin