Ana shrugged. Smiled. Her teeth flashed white. “Isn’t that odd? I don’t remember. So it must not have been anything good, or I’d know, right?”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
She laughed. “And what’s another?”
His gut tightened and he watched the light from the fire dance and flicker across her expressive face. He loved her laugh, loved her when she was feisty and playful. When she teased him like this, he wanted to pull her onto his lap, into his arms, and keep her there forever.
Suddenly her expression grew somber and she dropped the French fry she’d been nibbling. “Lucio—”
“Yes, negrita?”
She blushed at the endearment. She’d always loved being his. “We’re still going to get married, aren’t we?” Her blush deepened. She seemed to be struggling with the words. “You do still want to marry me, don’t you?”
So much innocence. Such a return to girlish dreams. For a moment he didn’t know how to answer her. And then he thought, answer her honestly. Be truthful. She deserved that much. “Of course I want to marry you.”
Her lips curved and her green eyes shone warm, soft, as though she were glowing from the inside out. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do it soon. I want to do it soon.” She leaned forward. “How about tomorrow?”
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