There was silence for a moment when the kiss ended, broken only by the scratchy chirp of an insect. “The jungle’s unforgiving. You need me.”
“I won’t disagree,” she said softly.
“You’re my zen, Rett. I meant that. I love you.” He kissed her again.
“Aidan,” she murmured against his lips before pulling away.
His thumb traced her lower lip and he couldn’t stop himself. His thumb dropped and he followed the pattern of his thumb with his lips.
She shivered.
“Rett,” he murmured against her lips.
Her arms wrapped tight around his waist. “Just kiss me,” she murmured back.
And he did. This time when they surfaced he took her hand and they walked.
“Where do we go from here?”
“What are you suggesting?” she asked, and her voice was both hopeful and serious in the darkness.
“An alliance?” His heart skipped a beat as he anticipated her answer.
“An alliance,” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Marry me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.”
“I . . .”
“If you think this is a joined-at-the-hip proposition, you’re wrong. I love you. I want to marry you but I don’t want to hobble you.”
“Marriage?” Her voice trembled in the darkness. She shivered against him and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Everything worth doing is frightening,” he said practically. “Say yes so I can finish the plans on the next expedition.”
“What expedition?”
He hugged her close. “Your expedition. The one I’m arranging so you can get that pretty little butt back into the forest and find your bug.”
“Bug?” She laughed openly. “I can’t believe you said that. You’re really planning another trip?” And strangely it didn’t feel like an intrusion on her territory. Instead it was like a load had been lifted, like one more detail she didn’t have to consider.
“All right.”
“That’s encouraging.” He smiled. “And romantic.”
“I love you,” she said as she threw her arms around his neck. “And I’ll marry you.”
He spun her around and she threw her head back and laughed. And when he set her down she only asked, “When?”
“The wedding or the expedition?”
“The wedding.”
“What do you say we make them one and the same? A wedding in the rain forest,” he said softly. “Maybe this weekend. Depends when Ian’s available. And, of course, Sid.”
“Ian?”
“I know he’s a pain but his knowledge is invaluable. You said so yourself. Besides, you need a maid of honor.”
“You can’t stand him.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well. But he’s important to you and because of that he’s important to me. Let’s say I’m learning to stand him. Besides, it wasn’t him that was bothersome, like Sid said, just his histrionics. That aside he’s a good enough guy. He’s loyal to you and for that I’ll do anything for him.”
“Wow, that was quite a speech, jungle man. So, what are we going to do for a last name?” Her laugh was like the gentle flutter of moth wings in the gathering night.
“Last name?”
“Will you take mine?”
“Don’t be utterly ridiculous. I’m a liberated man. No last name has worked well through the last three decades. I’ll think I’ll carry on the status quo.”
“And children?”
“Woman, you think too much. All in good time,” he whispered as his lips came down and met hers, and he drew her gently into his arms as the world faded around them. They’d both found their zen where it would always be, in each other’s arms.
About the Author
Ryshia Kennie is an award-winning author of two romance novels. From the Dust is a romance set during the Great Depression and her second book, Ring of Desire, is a magical romp into medieval England. Her recent novels focus on romantic suspense and women’s fiction. When not writing, she loves to hang out in any number of places—usually with a book in hand. She lives on the Canadian prairies with her husband and one opinionated Irish Terrier.
For more, visit her website at www.ryshiakennie.com or her blog at www.ryshia.blogspot.com.
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