“Sometimes,” she said, staring hard at the collar of his jacket, “I fantasize about being your wife.” His eyebrows shot toward his forehead. “Really?” He grinned, clearly pleased. “Your fantasies are a lot more wholesome than…” The grin slid away. “Wait. What are you saying?” He pressed his thumb to her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. “I want to be your wife, Gideon.” The pulse in his throat kicked. “And these children you also want … they’re our children?” “I’m pretty sure that’s how it works, yes.” More quietly, she said: “Is that all right?” Gideon plunged his fingers into her hair.
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