Managed: A VIP Novel Part 45

"Are you Ms. Sophie Darling?"

"Ah...yes?"

She smiles, going from weary to strangely affectionate. "Bene. I was on my way to find you."

"You were?" s.h.i.+t, what did I do?

She links her arm with mine. "Come with me."

I follow, because what else can I do? People give me looks, and I look right back. Hey there, tell my story if I'm Tasered, okay?

But she doesn't take me off the plane. She leads me into first cla.s.s. My steps slow, a protest rising. I don't know what the h.e.l.l this is about, but I'm not accepting any charity...

Then I see him. Crisp, gray three-piece suit, ice blue silk tie, coal black hair perfectly combed: the man of my heart. He sits in a cabin made for two, his eyes narrowed and tracking my movements as if he's waiting for me to turn tail and run.

Relief has me swaying. Joy has me embarra.s.singly close to tears.

I'm so surprised, I've lost the ability to function, and the flight attendant all but pushes me into my seat.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?"

His brow quirks. "Coming after you, obviously."

G.o.d, his voice, all low and rich and rumbly. And irritable. I've missed it so.

"But you hate flying. This flight is twenty hours long!"

He grimaces, going green at the edges. "Yes, I know. You're more important."

My heart goes all fluttery, and I want to jump in his lap and kiss the h.e.l.l out of him. But the flight crew is clearly getting ready to close the doors.

"You can't suffer for that long. I won't allow it. We have to get off." I grab his hand and tug, but he pulls me back down.

"I have things I need to say." His expression is set, and I know he won't be swayed.

"Okay..."

As if facing a firing squad, he sets his shoulders and lifts his chin. But the look in his eyes is vulnerable, exposed.

"First and most importantly, I love you. I have never said that to a woman, and I will never say that to any other but you. I've lived long enough to know that you are completely it for me. This is a done deal-signed, notarized, what have you."

Happiness bubbles through my veins like warm champagne. "Gabriel..."

"I'm not finished."

He looks so adorably committed to having his say that I bite back a smile. "Okay."

He nods, takes a breath. "I will say the wrong words from time to time. And I will c.o.c.k things up. That's a given, unfortunately. But there will never, ever be a time when I do not love you or want you in my life."

I blink rapidly, stunned to tears.

He scowls as if annoyed at himself and bends down to pull a slim file out of his case. He hands it to me. "This is for you."

My hands are shaking too hard to open the d.a.m.n thing. "What is this?"

"My will. I almost didn't get it done on time," he muses. "I've left everything to you."

My words come out in a high squeak. "What? Why? What?"

He looks at me, perfectly calm, as if he hasn't just leveled me. "I want to give you tangible proof that-whether you marry me or not-my life is literally linked with yours until the day I die. Actually, long after I die, too, if you want to be technical."

"Marry you?" My cheeks are tingling.

His brows lift in confusion. "I hand you everything I own, and that's what you focus on?"

Because the rest doesn't matter; I can never conceive of a life he isn't in. "Answer the question, suns.h.i.+ne."

"Yes, I'm going to want to do that. As soon as possible, if I have my way." Uncertainty fills his eyes. "That is if you'll have me, of course."

I gape at him, words stuck in my throat.

Gabriel tugs at his cuffs. "If you do not, I should warn you now, you'll have a hard time getting rid of me. I can be persistent when I want something."

I press my hand to my hot cheek. "Holy s.h.i.+t. I'm dizzy. Did you...was that a proposal? I can't tell."

"Sod all," he mutters, flus.h.i.+ng. "I told you I'd c.o.c.k things up-"

I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing his mouth to shut him up. He freezes for a second, as if too surprised to react, and then kisses me back, taking control. His hands hold my nape, and he goes at my mouth as if I'm the only one who can give him air.

It feels so good, and I've missed him so desperately, that I do cry-soft tears that he kisses away, whispering words of rea.s.surance, stroking my cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs.

I give him a watery smile when we break apart.

"You didn't mess anything up," I tell him, smoothing my hand over his hair. "You're perfect. I love you, suns.h.i.+ne. Exactly how you are."

He lets out a lengthy sigh and rests his forehead against mine. "Thank Christ for that." His strong fingers grip my hips. "Tell me again."

"I love you, Gabriel Scott."

His smile is so sweetly pleased, I have to kiss it, taste it.

"Once more," he demands. "I'm not certain I heard you correctly."

"I love you, Gabriel Suns.h.i.+ne Scott!" My shout earns a couple of stares and a few chuckles.

Gabriel grins like it's Christmas morning. "I love you too, Sophie Chatty Girl Darling. More than you'll every know."

I pepper him with kisses because he's here, and he's mine. "I'm sorry I ran off. I'm sorry I didn't explain myself right away. It hurt you, and I never want you to hurt."

"Thank you," he says between my attacks on his mouth. But then he holds me still by cupping my cheeks. "I am rather annoyed about one thing, however. How could you have thought I'd send you away?" His gaze warms, but his expression is solemn. "You're my life, chatty girl. It has no joy without you in it."

Sweet man. I'm keeping him forever.

"I was afraid," I admit with a cringe. "Afraid that you meant more to me than I meant to you. I wasn't thinking very clearly."

"Neither of us was."

With a sigh, I kiss his brow, his cheek, wherever I can. "Why is it that we're so very good at talking and so very s.h.i.+tty at fighting?"

Because there's a difference between our bickering and when we're really mad. I don't have to explain this to Gabriel. I know by the amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes that he understands me perfectly.

He nips at my earlobe. "Maybe it's because we hate fighting and fall to pieces when we try. Truthfully, I'd rather wear polyester suits for the rest of my life than have another row with you."

I gasp. "Don't even joke about polyester!"

He chuckles against my skin, the sound sending little s.h.i.+vers of pleasure dancing down my body.

But then he grumps again. "And of all the places you have to go. Australia?"

Guilt twinges in my belly. I was so stupid leaving. "I needed to clear my head."

"Clearing one's head means taking a walk. Not going to the opposite side of the planet." He eyes me with suspicion, but his expression is too happy and content for him to pull it off properly. "I'm beginning to think you wanted to torture me."

"I was about to get off the plane to find you, Suns.h.i.+ne. Because being away from you is torture." Which is the absolute truth. "So rea.s.sess that comment."

As he hums dubiously, I snake my hand down his body to cup him. A choked gasp has me grinning. "Besides," I say, giving him a light squeeze. "I have better ways to torture you."

His hand settles over mine. "Behave yourself, Darling." But he doesn't move my hand away.

I feel him grow thicker against my palm. "I still can't believe you got on a plane to Australia," I say, subtly kneading him beneath our joined hands.

He s.h.i.+fts a bit, nudging up into my touch. "It's my grand gesture, as Killian says. If you don't understand how much I love you after this, there's nothing for it."

Smiling, I press my lips against his arm. "My grand gesture is going to be giving you head at some point during this flight."

His c.o.c.k twitches as I stroke it, and his voice comes out a tad rough. "s.e.xual acts on a plane are illegal, Darling."

"Then you'll have to be very quiet while I suck you."

I love the strangled sound in his throat and the way his d.i.c.k goes rock hard against my palm, despite his weak protests.

"Sophie," he says, returning to the stern tone I love. "You never actually gave me an answer."

"Mmm?" I stop my exploration and meet his gaze. He waits, one brow raised, a muscle ticking on his jaw. "Oh, you mean the 'c.o.c.ked up' proposal?"

"Darling..."

"I'm going to want babies," I tell him with a smile. "And to dress them up as Princess Leia or Han Solo on Halloween."

His answering smile is so pleased, the look in his eyes so antic.i.p.atory, that it makes me a little dizzy. "I look forward to giving you babies. And I vote for a Spock costume."

"Okay. Then you can dress up as Han Solo and I'll be captured Princess Leia in that little gold bikini."

"I love you," he declares in a rush. "So very much. The luckiest day of my life was when I sat next to you on that plane."

With a happy sigh, I snuggle closer. "I'm going to marry you, Gabriel Scott."

He releases a breath and presses his lips to the top of my head. "And I'm going to love you until the day I die, Sophie Darling."

"You know," I say. "If I take your name, I won't be Darling anymore."

Gabriel swoops down and captures my mouth. The kiss is slow and just a little bit dirty, his tongue plunging deep. I'm lightheaded and needy when he pulls back. The hot, knowing glint in his eyes doesn't help.

"You will always be my darling," he says against my lips. "My Sophie darling."

Epilogue.

Gabriel

"I think I'm going to refer to this house as The s...o...b..x," Sophie calls from the terrace.

She has a point. The bulk of the house is one long, clean rectangle jutting out toward the harbor with glossy wood floors, soaring ceilings, and retractable gla.s.s walls that let in the breeze. Compared to being stuffed in a plane, this airiness is paradise, as far as I'm concerned.

Following the sound of her voice, I find her leaning against the reinforced gla.s.s rail that runs around the terrace. Behind her, Sydney Harbor glitters in the fading evening light, its iconic bridge and-if you squint-the white sails of the opera house visible just to the right.

But I only have eyes for Sophie, her curvy body golden and tanned, the breeze picking up the ends of her hair and sending them dancing about her smiling face.

Sophie's hair is pink now. She tells me it's the color of true love and pure pa.s.sion. It looks more like cotton candy to me, but I'll never tell her. I've learned at least that much about women along the way. And besides, I'll always equate Sophie with delicious treats, so her hair color is fitting in that regard.

I move behind her and wrap my arms around her shoulders. Her skin is cool, and she nestles back against my chest with a sigh.