Page 118 of Tears of Glass

“Can you wait while I deal with everything?” I lift my fingers to his hair, brushing through the soft lengths, watching as they shake with my nerves.

“I’ll wait forever.”

I grab him and pull him up, my arms tying around his waist, snuggling into the soft sensation of his cotton shirt that smells all him. “So how many women have you proposed to now?”

He chuckles and I love the way it moves me against him. “Just the one.”

I glance up and he pecks a kiss on my forehead. “There’s only one woman who’s ever made me want to ask.”

“So not you and Sienna then?”

He shakes his head, a frown chasing across his face. “I told you that was an arrangement organised by our families.”

I chuckle and hug him as hard as I can. “It’s okay. Just promise me you’ll wait for me.”

“Always.”

We settle into silence for a while, just listening to the sounds of the garden and feeling one another breathe. My fingers twiddle the entwined gold and silver on his hand. “I can’t believe you proposed off the cuff with no ring. That’s not very Fairclough like.” I snicker to myself, grateful the emotional tidal wave has receded.

He shifts slightly and slides his hand into the pocket of his suit trousers. When he pulls it out, settled on his palm is a ring that matches the one I roughly made him. This one though is dotted with diamond chips so it glimmers with the moon. It’s breathtaking. Far better craftsmanship than my rough attempt he wears with so much pride.

“I’m always prepared.” His gaze is intense and heavy.

I stare at it, that heavy heart of mine ready to soar and battle its way to the surface of my past. “It’s beautiful.”

“As is the woman who will wear it.”

“Who’s she?”

He laughs and slips it back into his pocket.

“Do you want to say yes?” His eyes read everything.

“Yes.” I curve a small smile of my lips.

“Well that’s a yes enough to me.” His hands slide around my face cradling my jaw. His thumbs sweep across my cheeks. “Let’s go to bed.” He breathes into my mouth and my spine tingles with a shiver of excitement.

“I want to show you what I did this morning.”

“Yeah?” His smile lifts at one side, that adorable dimple flashing. “I’ve got something to show you.” He winks and I giggle helplessly.

“Hold that thought. Now come and see what you think of this.” I grab his hand and untangle myself from his embrace.

“Faith, I’m desperate for you here.” He groans but allows me to pull him in the direction of the studio.

“Three minutes.”

He mutters under his breath about only lasting three minutes if he has to wait much longer.

Chuckling, I lead him into my domain and show him the new art he has inspired deep within my heart.

***

I’M STIRRING COFFEE and reading through an email from Frances at Whitlocks when the doorbell goes. It’s Friday and I’m lecture free. Not that I’ve been focusing that much on lessons or seminars when I’ve got one thought weighing on my mind. He asked me to marry him.

It’s been on my mind endlessly for days. I can’t believe I didn’t say yes, but then I can’t believe he even asked.

And the ring in his pocket? How long has he been walking around with that there? Every day? Waiting for the right moment to arrive?