‘I never expected to find you. A woman I could love. A love I can trust, a love I can give myself wholly to.’
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over onto his shirt. He shifted so that he could cup her head in his hands, tilt it up and look into her eyes. ‘A love that will last a lifetime.’
Her heart swelled to bursting. ‘Blake …’
‘I know you have your business and that I’m no longer a part of it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be involved in some small way, does it?’
‘Of course you c—’
‘The marina’s a few minutes’ drive away from the shop. This yacht has more comfort and luxury than you’ve ever seen. You have Maddie and her team to help out now and then so when we want a weekend away we can just take off, up the coast, or down to Surfers to visit your family. The best of both worlds. The sea and, most importantly, you.’
Her thoughts were jumbled, spinning with the images he was conjuring with his words.
But he wasn’t finished. He stepped back and drew something out of his pocket. He flipped the little velvet box open. ‘Are you prepared to take on this scarred sailor who’ll probably wake you up with bad dreams some nights?’
‘Oh … I—’
‘Marry me, Lissa. Live with me for the rest of our lives. Be my life’s comfort and I’ll be yours.’
Through her tears she saw a ring with a solitary aquamarine flanked by a diamond on either side. ‘Oh … do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you ask that question?’ she whispered. ‘Fantasised where we’d be, how you’d ask? And it was never as perfect as this. And the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.’
‘You’re the only girl for me, Lissa. And I’ll spend my life showing you.’ He slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. ‘A stone that captures the sea and the colour of your eyes. There’s something of both of us in it.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said softly. ‘I couldn’t have chosen anything better.’ She watched it glitter in the light, then turned to him with a smile that came from the deepest corner of her heart. ‘And now. are you going to seal this deal with a kiss?’
He smiled back and this time his amazing blue eyes were filled with sunshine and light. ‘Try stopping me.’
And, oh, she’d missed his luscious mouth on hers. The taste of him, the scent of him as he drew her closer. Finally, he drew back and she knew it was only because they’d both run out of air.
‘Now I want to show you your new home.’
He pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘Max? We won’t need your services for the rest of the night, thank you. Go home to bed.’ He disconnected with a serious gleam in his eye. ‘I intend to.’
Then he swept her up in his arms and carried her through the living room at a rate of knots. ‘We’ll do the more detailed tour later,’ he told her, barely raising a puff. He paused at the galley’s entrance to tell Nathan he could leave, that they’d help themselves to the meal later.
Then on through another entertainment area with wide-screen TV and concealed lighting that gave the room a pink-purple glow. Up the low polished wooden spiral staircase in the centre. Past a bathroom and its moulded spa bath with clear Perspex sides and marble vanity.
Blake set her on her feet in front of a massive double bed with a deep indigo quilt. Finally. He had her right where he wanted her. She glanced about her. ‘I’ve got a really nice sketch that would suit this room. ‘
He could see her studying the décor with a trained eye. ‘I think it’s really you.’
‘Not now, sweet cheeks.’ He touched her chin and turned it so that she was looking at him. Only him. ‘Take the night off.’ His lips roamed her face while his hands moved over the delicate silk, reacquainting himself with her shape. Her fragrance. Her heat. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmured. It was a first for him. Hell, the whole evening had been about firsts.
He felt her smile against his mouth. ‘So what have you missed about me?’
He kissed her again, then cupped her cheeks and looked into those clear sea-green eyes. ‘I’ve missed your colour, your resilience. Your independence.’ He punctuated each with a kiss. ‘The way you listen when I talk, as if I matter. The way you push me to open up because you give a damn.’
He saw her eyes spring with moisture and smoothed the dampness away with his thumbs.
‘I’ve even missed your chaos, believe it or not.’
‘I’ve been trying to do something about that,’ she whispered.
‘Don’t ever change. I love you just the way you are, feminine hygiene products on my bathroom shelf and all.’
He smoothed a hand over her breast so that he could feel her heart beating beneath his palm. ‘You made me realise I’ve been existing but I’ve not been living. I’ve been hiding behind my navy career, too afraid to take another chance on love.’
‘I was afraid too.’ She closed her hand over his. Over her heart. ‘You taught me to trust again.’
‘I reckon we’re pretty darn good for each other.’
‘I reckon so. Except you forgot one thing.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You forgot how much you missed making love with me.’
‘I didn’t forget.’ And he tumbled with her back onto the bed.
He was home.
LINDSAY ARMSTRONG was born in South Africa, but now lives in Australia with her New Zealand-born husband and their five children. They have lived in nearly every state of Australia, and have tried their hand at some unusual—for them—occupations, such as farming and horse-training—all grist to the mill for a writer! Lindsay started writing romances when their youngest child began school and she was left feeling at a loose end. She is still doing it and loving it.
HOLLY HARDING had the world at her feet—or she should have had.
The only child of wealthy parents—although her father had died—she could have rested on her laurels and fulfilled her mother’s dearest ambition for her, that she settle down and make an appropriate, although of course happy, marriage.
Holly, however, had other ideas. Not that she was against wedlock in general, but she knew she wasn’t ready for it. Sometimes she doubted she ever would be, but she went out of her way not to dwell on the reason for that…
Instead, she concentrated on her career. She was a journalist, although occasionally she partook of the social scene so dear to her mother’s heart; Sylvia Harding was a well-known socialite. It was on two such occasions that Holly had encountered Brett Wyndham, with disastrous consequences.
‘A masked fancy-dress ball and a charity lunch? You must be out of your mind,’ Brett Wyndham said to his sister Sue.
He’d just flown in from India, on a delayed flight that had also been diverted, so he was tired and irritable. His sister’s plans for his social life did not appear to improve his mood.
‘Oh, they’re not so bad,’ Sue said. She was in her late twenties, dark-haired like her brother, but petite and pretty—quite