Chapter Seventeen
The next thing I knew, I was waking up in Vic’s bed. I was naked beneath the covers and alone in the room.
I looked around to see if I could find my clothes, but came up empty. I walked, naked, through the hallway and to my bedroom.
I washed, before slipping into a red cotton dress which ended a few inches above my knee. I put on high heels, though was unsure of why I bothered. I supposed there was an element of superstition in respecting Margaret’s views regarding my footwear on the day following her public, violent death.
I went into the kitchen, where Vic was sipping a cup of coffee. As soon as he saw me enter, his blue eyes widened and he stood up, impressing me as always with his perfectly masculine build. He poured me a cup of coffee.
“How did you sleep, sweetheart?” he asked, a pleased smile stretching across his face as he took in my appearance.
“I don’t remember much of what happened yesterday,” I admitted. “I saw the police processing the scene, but the next thing I remember I was waking up in your bed, completely naked.”
At this, he grinned.
“You’ve got a beautiful body. If you want to be naked, I’m not exactly going to stop you,” he said. “As for last night, we were the only ones on the second floor, so I guess we were both a little less guarded.”
“It’s not about being naked,” I said, taking the first sip of my coffee. “I’m worried because I don’t remember much of what happened before.”
“Who does?” he asked. “Seeing someone take their own life is traumatic anyway you look at it. I think there’s stuff about yesterday that I blocked out as well.”
He took my jaw in his hand, and laid a hard kiss on my lips. He then pressed himself against me, backing me into the counter. I felt the edge dig against my spine, as he pushed harder against me.
“Vic,” I said, my voice strained from the pain. “Vic, you’re hurting me.”
At this, he drew back. “Being so near to death, makes living seem all the more precious, and I don’t want to spend another minute without you as my wife.”
He reached into his pocket, and produced a silver, diamond ring.
“I suppose I should get down on one knee,” he said.
Before I could say anything, he knelt on the floor in front of me, and I felt a flush crawl over my cheeks as I remembered just how short the skirt of my dress was. It seemed Vic had noticed my exposure as well, because his lip twisted into a lewd smile as he began to speak.
“I think I’ve been clear about my intentions from the beginning. Nadia, I would be honored to have you as my wife, and I hope you’ll give me the chance every day of the rest of our lives to prove to you just how lucky I know I am to have you. Nadia, will you marry me?”
I froze, the small of my back still throbbing from my spine being ground into the marble countertop. Yet, I could feel a warmth and wetness between my legs at Vic’s proximity, at the knowledge that my intimate areas were more or less on accidental display to this strong, gorgeous man who was on his knees in front of me. The protest died in my throat as I found myself with only one word on my tongue.
“Yes,” I said.
Vic stood up, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me into the air. He picked me up as though I weighed nothing, and stared up at me with his crystal-clear blue eyes.
“I love you so much Nadia, more than you’ll ever know,” he said.
I said nothing, but took his face in my hands and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips.