Page 267 of Caterina
I lower myself to one knee carefully.
There’s a small ache in my side.
Her eyes widen. “Adrian.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are proposing and still lying to me about your side?”
“Habit.”
A startled laugh breaks out of her.
I take her hand, and she goes silent.
It is warm in mine, trembling slightly.
For once, Caterina Conti has nothing to say.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I love your mind. Your temper. Your courage. Your stubborn refusal to do what I say, even when I am clearly right.”
She makes a choked sound.
“I love the way you built yourself into something no one in your family could afford to overlook anymore. I love that you made me want things I used to think were impossible for me.”
Her tears fall freely now.
I tighten my hand around hers.
“I do not want to stand beside you because you pay me to be there. I do not want a contract between us unless it’s a marriage contract. I want vows. I want your name next to mine. I already consider this house home, and I want to live in it with you and raise our child. I want every ordinary morning and every difficult night. I want the family dinners and the security arguments and the part where you pretend you are not working too much and I pretend I believe you because I can get away with more that way.”
She laughs through her tears.
“I want it all,” I say. “And I want it for the rest of my life.”
I hold up the ring.
“Marry me, Caterina.”
She looks at me for one endless second.
Her face is beautiful in the soft light, streaked with tears and flushed with emotion. She is the strongest person I know. She is the best person I know.
I would die for her.
More importantly, I will live for her.
Her hand tightens on mine.
“You are impossible,” she whispers.
“I have been told that.”
“You drive me completely insane.”
“Is that a yes?” I ask, grinning.
Then she laughs, full and bright and utterly free.
