He reached with a shaky hand into the inner pocket of his blue blazer and pulled out a small black box wrapped in velvet. When he flipped the lid open, she gasped at the sparkle of diamonds in the light of the streetlamp above them.
“And this ring.”
Mary instantly recognized it as a classic Italian engagement ring. One that symbolized love for all eternity.
“Marry me, Angel, and make me the happiest man in the world.”
“Yes.” The word flew out of her mouth before she could think, before she could process anything more than how much she loved him. She tugged him back to his feet so that she could wrap her arms around him, the ring and box crushed between them. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Their mouths met in a kiss so loving, so sweet, so passionate that she could hardly believe all of this was real. It had happened so fast, from meeting Jack to falling in love with him, to being offered his heart and soul.
When they finally drew back from each other, he took her left hand in his and slipped the gorgeous engagement ring onto her fourth finger. Mary stared in wonder at it, thinking just how much her mother would have loved this moment. If only she could call her with the wonderful news…
But, suddenly, thinking of her mother brought more than just a pang of longing for her estranged family. It also brought Mary’s fears back to the forefront.
“I don’t—” She swallowed hard as she made herself face Jack. “What if I don’t know how to be a wife? What if I’m no good at being one half of a whole? I’ve only ever been on my own as an adult.”
“So have I,” he said in a soft voice, “but that’s just because I was waiting to kiss the prettiest girl in the world under the mistletoe. Whatever we have to learn, we’ll learn together.”
Easy. He made it sound so easy. And because she badly wanted to believe that it would be, she echoed his, “I was waiting for you, too.”
* * *
Mary and Jack stopped to kiss at every corner, so the walk back to her house took twice as long as it otherwise would have. By the time they made it to her front door, she was more than ready for a repeat of the wild against-the-door lovemaking from the night he’d taken her to see Singin’ in the Rain.
But instead of tearing her clothes off the moment they were inside, Jack put his hands on either side of her face and held her gently.
“Mine.”
He said the word softly, but she heard the possession—and the wonder—in the simple word as it fell from his lips.
“Yours.” Emotion made her voice unsteady. “Always.”
Slowly, reverently, he ran the tips of his fingers over her eyebrows, cheekbones, lips and earlobes. By the time he reached her neck and then the hollows of her collarbones, she was beyond desperate for more of him.
“Jack, please.”
He leaned forward and slid his bristly cheek against her smooth one. “I know I didn’t do the proposal right,” he murmured against her earlobe, “but I’ll get this part right. I promise.”
“Everything you do is exactly right,” she insisted, just as she had the first night they were together, even though she knew that when Jack Sullivan made up his mind—especially when it came to giving her pleasure—nothing could deter him.
After slipping off her scarf and coat and then his own, he slid his fingers through hers and led her into the bedroom. For so long her bed had seemed too big, but it was just the right size for the two of them.
“Undressing you is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
He moved behind her to gather her hair up over one shoulder and began to pull down the zipper that ran from her neck to the center of her back. She could feel the heat of his fingertips through the silk chemise she was wearing.
Slowly, so slowly it made her breath catch in her lungs, he slid the wool off her shoulders and arms so that it bunched at her waist before he finally gave it an impatient shove down over her hips. A moment later, she felt the warm press of his lips against her neck, and then she was arching into his touch as his large hands slid from her waist up to her ribs to cup her br**sts. She gasped when his thumbs brushed over the taut peaks.
Turning her head so her mouth could find his, she might have kept kissing him forever had his roaming hands not made her so breathless that she had to pull back to drag much-needed air into her lungs.
Holding her still with one large hand over her stomach, he slid the other between her thighs, brushing his fingers over the bare skin at the top of her stockings. In her girlish dreams of love, and then later, in her adult experience of real-life passion, she’d never expected to feel this much…or to want this much. But every time Jack touched her, she sparked, lit into flames and then melted for him.
Slowly, seductively, Jack moved his hand higher to cover the damp material between her legs, then slid his fingers beneath it as he breathed the sweet endearment, “Angel.”
She shook, then shattered against him as he took her even higher with a kiss that rocked through her as deeply as the caress of his hand just had.
The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and he was laying her down on the bed. After he quickly unzipped her boots, he unhooked her garters to roll one stocking down her leg. Her breath was coming fast by the time he’d bared her other leg.
He was still wearing his sports coat and slacks, and she felt deliciously naughty in only her bra and panties as she rose to her knees to take off his jacket.
“One of life’s great pleasures,” she agreed as she unbuttoned his shirt. Even the sound of his belt buckle coming undone excited her, as did the caress of his hands over her skin as he stripped the final bits of lace from her body.