“Give Hannah my best. If things work out with the Private Arrangements agency, I’ll be celebrating some anniversaries myself one of these days.”
“Something tells me it won’t be that simple,” Rafe warned. “You’re a Madison, remember? We don’t do simple when it comes to marriage. We always do things the hard way.”
“Only when we make the mistake of letting emotion take over. I don’t plan to make that mistake.”
“Good luck.” Rafe disconnected, tossed the phone onto the table, and rolled back toward Hannah.
That was when he realized that his left wrist was bound to the red wrought-iron bed frame. He studied the familiar-looking padded handcuff Hannah had used to chain him with great interest.
“Where’d you get the cuffs?” he asked.
“I bought them from Virgil.” She held up the second cuff. “An anniversary present.”
“Oh, my.” Rafe smiled slowly. “Don’t know if I can handle so much excitement.”
“Something tells me you’re up to the challenge.”
“I’ll do my best.” He reached out for her with his free hand and pulled her down across his chest. “I love you, Hannah.”
“I love you, too.”
He speared his fingers through her hair. “Should have married you eight years ago.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I think we both needed time to decide what we wanted out of life.”
“You could be right.” He thought about that for a few seconds. “I told you that night that it would be a long walk home.”
“Yes, you did.” She brushed her lips across his. “But we both got here safely. That’s all that matters.”