The old me would think I’m stupid to even consider it. She would say that love would eventually die when we didn’t have enough money in the bank to pay the bills. Sex would be replaced by obligations. Laughter by the buzz of the television. And maybe that old Blaire is right, but I also know the old Blaire wasn’t happy. She had money and security. Yet her heart remained empty.

No … I’m done listening to her. Life becomes beautiful when we learn to appreciate what we have and be thankful for it. Life becomes beautiful when we stop coveting things we don’t have and are grateful for what we do have. Life is beautiful when we choose to make it beautiful.

Mistaking my silence for hesitation, he adds, “It won’t be what you’re used to, I know, but—”

“Shh.” I place a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Those things don’t matter to me anymore.” Frowning, I think of a hiccup that could potentially mar our happiness. “But what about your exhibit? You’re about to get your big break, Ronan. You can’t leave now.”

He wraps a hand around my neck possessively as he bends forward and begins to trail kisses on my neck, my jaw, my shoulder; making me tremble with hunger for him. “I don’t care about it. Carl can keep the photographs and the money. I don’t want any of it. I want to try doing it without their help—the right way. I want to be proud of what I’ve achieved, babe. And I can’t be proud of what feels like was handed to me because of—”

“Rachel,” I finish for him.

He nods, kissing my neck. “It’s all a big reminder of a life without you.”

I place my hands on his shoulders for support as a moan escapes my mouth. “You make me want to be selfish and agree to your plan …” Ronan begins to roll his hips against me, sliding his cock between my pussy, lighting me on fucking fire.

“But it would be unfair to you,” I moan, closing my eyes. “What if we waited until after your exhibit?”

“Don’t,” he breathes huskily. He licks his thumb and lowers it between us, rubbing my clit and making the room swirl, my senses coming alive with his touch. My body sings for him.

“It’s my choice, Blaire. Everything I did, I did for you. And now that you’re mine, I don’t give a fuck about anything else. We’ll make it on our own. Your bookstore and my camera.” His smiling eyes gaze into mine as he grins cockily at me. “So what do you say, Mrs. Klein?”

Kissing his nose, happiness bubbles deep inside me. It makes me want to get up and run naked in the street, throw my head back, and shout that he’s mine. It’s all a beautiful dream, and it might be foolish to believe it, to want it so much, but we’ll figure it out. There’s no other choice for us.

“Yes,” I say slowly. “Yes,” I laugh. “Yes,” I cry. “Yes. Always and forever, yes.”

He makes love to me then. Slowly. Tenderly. Passionately. He worships me with his mouth, with his hands while his body tortures me with never ending pleasure. Moans cease to be moans. Kisses cease to be kisses. Thrusts cease to be thrusts. We transcend to a point where our bodies are not only joined together, but it is our souls that mate with one another, creating life.

It’s magic.

And our new beginning.

With a towel wrapped around my torso, I walk out of the bathroom while applying lotion to my skin. I smile at the sight of Ronan. He’s propped against the headboard and dozing off. I’m not surprised he’s tired. The man’s sexual appetite is unquenchable. Not that I’m complaining. Far from it, actually.

When I reach the foot of the bed, he opens his eyes focusing on me. The way he’s staring at me like he wants to devour every inch of my body makes me feel a little reckless. Adventurous. I place the small bottle of lotion on the bed.