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One She had no intention of turning down.
She loved him wholly and completely. She’d never told him, either. She hadn’t admitted that to Nana, but the words had turned out surprisingly difficult for Gillian to utter.
“Chez Rennet.”
It was the first restaurant he’d ever taken her to. No, he hadn’t said the words, but Maks had a romantic streak he wasn’t that great at hiding.
“Terrific. I love Rennet’s food.” The chef and owner had a soft spot for both her and Maks as well.
Dining in his restaurant was always pleasurable and Gillian took that as further evidence Maks wanted tonight to be special.
“I know you do.” Again that serious look.
And it finally clicked. Tonight was a serious night, an evening that would culminate in the kind of conversation she was sure Maks only planned to have once in his life.
She hadn’t been nervous before, but knowing how important tonight was to him brought a flock of humming birds to take up residence inside Gillian.
She was getting engaged to a prince, and for the first time, she really thought about what it would be like to be a princess.
The prospect was more than a little daunting.
Nana had always said Gillian ignored what she did not want to deal with and she’d done a fair job of that while dating Maks, but his somber demeanor tonight forced her to evaluate what his proposal would mean to both of them.
Ultimately, however, it didn’t matter.
She would have given up the creature comforts of civilization and moved to Antarctica to be with him.
Taking on the role of princess and living at least half the year in the Baltic island country of Volyarus would not be allowed to frighten her.
She loved him, Maks the man.
She could and would live with Maksim of the House of Yurkovich, Crown Prince of Volyarus.
CHAPTER TWO
DINNER WAS WONDERFUL. Although the solemn air never left Maks, he charmed Gillian with his usual urbanity.
There were several times he seemed on the verge of discussing something important, but he never followed through.
This further proof of a nervousness she never would have expected beguiled Gillian. She found herself falling just that much more in love with the man of her dreams as The evening wore on.
After dinner, he took her to listen to live jazz, one of her favorite things. The band was made up of musicians who had been around long enough they understood the music and how to live it, not just play it.
Relaxing, she was even relieved that the music prevented discussion, and the odd pressure she’d felt Maks was under seemed to lighten.
Afterward, she asked him back to her apartment and as expected, he accepted.
He’d taken her coat and laid it over the back of one of her club chairs, but stood as if not knowing what came next. It was so unlike him that she took pity and suggested another drink.
“I’d better not.”
“You don’t have to drive. Not if you don’t want to.” She offered her bed for the night in a similar oblique fashion to how she’d done on numerous occasions before.
He usually took her up on it, only refusing when he had early morning meetings or travel plans that would require him leaving in the wee hours and disturbing her rest.
So, it surprised her when he hesitated now. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Did he think she wanted to spend less time with him with marriage in the offing? She wasn’t going to pretend sexual innocence for the tabloids once their relationship went public. Though she appreciated the fact he’d kept it under wraps thus far, at some point in the very near future, everyone would know about them.
And she did not mind, but she would not pretend, either.
“Yes,” she said firmly.
“We need to talk.”
“After.” Suddenly she knew she wanted words of love spoken between them, even if they only came from her before he proposed.
She would tell him while they made love. He could propose after.
Yearning she would not think of denying darkened his espresso gaze. “You are certain this is a good idea?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t sure where the need came from, but she could not bear the thought of agreeing to marry him without admitting her feelings for him.
If only with her body, then so be it, but she would express her love for him tonight and she had hope the words would make it past her lips as well.
Need did not make those three small words any easier to say. She could no more simply blurt them out than she could dance naked on a table at Chez Rennet.
While her grandparents had told Gillian they loved her and accepted the words in return, it wasn’t daily like her nana claimed her papa did with her. And Gillian had only ever said the words to her own parents when she was younger.
Neither had ever returned them and she could not remember the last time she’d had the courage to speak her love for the absentee adults in her life. She’d never spoken them to another man, but then she’d never been in love before, either. Her heart wasn’t so easy to reach.
With Maks, she had the option of showing him physically what she felt so strongly emotionally. He would know she loved him at the end of this night. One way or another.
He shook his head. “You are a very different sort of woman, aren’t you?”
She didn’t think so, but she liked the way he looked at her like she was something special, so she didn’t deny it. And really, wasn’t he supposed to think she was extraordinary? Their future would be rather grim if she was just like any other woman to him.
She certainly considered Maks a man above all others.
Maks took her hand and tugged her toward the hall that led to her bedroom. “Come. I have a mind to make love to you in comfort.”
They’d been intimate in the living room many times, but she didn’t mind him considering this time important and special. Maybe he found the words just as difficult to speak, but this was his way of showing how much he cared, too.
Regardless of his reasoning, her heart beat a rapid rhythm as she let him lead her into the darkened bedroom. Maks dropped her hand before crossing to the small table and turning on the lamp. Made of bronze and fashioned like a statue, the clump of three calla lilies had bulbs in each of the glass flowers that cast a soft golden glow over the room.
He’d given her the painting of a blonde woman standing with her head bowed in a field of the same blooms hanging on the wall above it. Maks had said it reminded him of her.
She thought the painting far too ethereal to have her likeness, but she loved it.
He turned to face her now, his chiseled features set in somber lines. “You give me a great gift.” He sighed, releasing some great burden. “I needed this.”
She smiled, her emotions choking her but still not rising to her lips to say aloud.
He seemed to understand because he came back to her and pulled her into a passionate kiss that let them both get lost for a little while. They were breathing heavily when their mouths separated and she was wrapped securely in his arms.
“You are a very good kisser.”
“Or you are,” he teased, more like his normal self.
“You’re the one with all the experience.” She