“I suppose that’s enough for me,” she teased, blinking her long lashes.
“This is all my Christmasses at once,” he said truthfully, kissing the words into her mouth.
“You should tell the driver to turn around—we can go home now.”
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured. “But actually, there’s something I want to show you. Indulge me?”
“Always.”
Two hours later,they arrived at his winery in Bordeaux. “Where your delicious bottles of red come from?”
“Right over there,” he gestured to a hill covered in spindly, bare branches. In summer, they’d be thick and lush, but for now, they were like skeletons and Skye found their beauty ethereal.
The driver brought the car to a stop in front of a small, unassuming farmhouse.
“This?” She squeaked, because she was now so accustomed to his life of luxury, she hadn’t expected anything quite so humble.
“This is where I come to get away from everything. Here I feel as though I am in an oasis.” He turned to face her. “That’s how you make me feel,” he said simply. “When I’m with you, the outside world ceases to exist, and I am pared back to being a simple man, who lives only to give you pleasure.”
“And you’re very good at that,” she murmured with a nod.
He reached for her hand, squeezing it, then frowning. “I don’t like seeing your hand bare. Would you wear this again, my darling love?”
Her heart turned over as he removed the engagement ring from his pocket. She stared at it, her heart in her throat. “But—,”
“But?” He asked, as he slid it onto her ring finger.
“You mean, just wear it because—what exactly do you mean?”
He laughed, his expression wry. “I think you know. But in the interest of clarity,” he dropped down to one knee, uncaring that the ground was damp from the day’s rain. “I’m asking you to marry me. I know that’s fast, but time is irrelevant. You’re the love of my life, and nothing will ever change my mind about that.”
She tilted her head back, half laughing, half crying. “I feel the same way.”
“I hope that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” she confirmed, laughing as he stood up and caught her around the waist, spinning her and kissing her and laughing with her. Their happiness was sublime—a Christmas miracle.
They sat up late,talking by a raging fire, glasses of wine in hand, and that night, plans were formed that wildly exceeded all of Skye’s hopes for her future.
She wanted to live on a large property, to get her hands dirty, but here in France, she felt more at home than she ever been anywhere else, and in Bordeaux, Matthieu had a property that was in need of much work. Together, they could create something wonderful, on the edge of France, away from the madness of his world, just the two of them, working side by side, living and loving.
“But first, we should go to Australia. I want to meet your family, and formally introduce myself as your fiancé.”
She’d beamed up at him. “They’ll love you.”
“Do you have an aunt you can draw out of the woodwork to berate me?”
She laughed, then groaned. “I’d forgotten about Margot. Maybe we should rethink the wedding.”
His face was so stricken that she took pity on him.
“I’m kidding,” she promised. “Even your aunt has worked her way back into my good graces—at least a little.”
“Ah, for the exact same reason she is out of mine. I can’t tell you how I felt when I learned she’d helped you leave last night.”
Skye closed her eyes on a wave of remembered sadness. “I couldn’t stay,” she whispered. “Loving you and thinking you didn’t love me, that it was all just for ‘fun’, was—,”
He shook his head. “I was such a fool.”