Mark's heart hammered in his chest as he caught the tiny frown and watched Virginia's lips press together so tight they all but disappeared. Jesus, was he moving too fast? He hadn't even thought about that. They had never talked about marriage. For all he knew, dickhead Tom had totally turned her off the whole matrimony thing. Or maybe she needed time to adjust to the change in his identity. . . It was a lot to throw at her all at once.

"You—" Her voice came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat. "You don't have to marry me just because I'm pregnant. That was never my intention, and I don't want you to feel pressured. I'm quite capable of doing this alone. Not that you wouldn't help, it's just . . ."

The rest of her ramble was lost to Mark as relief hit into him so hard, he physically sagged. If she were worried about him feeling cornered, she needn't be. He stood, placed the box in her palm, and made sure he had her full attention. "Look at it."

In all his business dealings, nothing rivaled the anticipation he felt during that ten seconds or so of silence before she opened the lid. He knew she had it all figured out when her hand drifted up to touch the necklace he'd brought home from his New York trip. The ring's setting was two hearts intertwined with a diamond placed in the middle of each.

"Yes, I bought them together. I wanted to ask you that night but couldn't bring myself to do it when you didn't know the truth about who I was. Paul picked it up from the house today, the reason for all the secrecy I'm afraid."

He took the box from her hand, removed the ring, and held it front of her. "So, Ginny, this is the real me, an ordinary Marine. No more big houses. No more fancy cars. Everything is gone, except my love for you. Will you marry me?"

Pinched between his fingers as it was, the ring looked scaled down, and he wondered if the diamonds were too small. If he'd had it his way, he would have insisted on the biggest, brightest, lighthouse-style stones, emitting warnings to any jerks in the vicinity with ideas in their heads. She wouldn't have liked that, though. Simple and elegant was more her style. Yet the way she was staring at the ring . . . You should have gone for the bloody Hope diamond, asshole. "If you don't like it–"

"No! . . . No, it's beautiful. Perfect. It's just . . . I just. . . I never dreamed this could happen. It seemed impossible, and I had come to terms with that. And now . . ." Her eyes were shiny with fresh tears as she lifted them to his.

"You're making me nervous here, Ginny."

Suddenly, she made a noise that sounded seriously close to a snort.

Not what he expected.

"Ordinary Marine, huh? Nobody would ever dare call you ordinary." Virginia brought her hand up between them. "Hell, yes, I will marry you. I hope you're up for this pregnancy-hormone thing, though, because I'm about to cry again."

The ring got shoved onto her finger so fast it was a miracle the thing didn't dislodge a diamond. Then she was in his arms, lifted into the air as soft lips claimed his.

As he moved toward the bedroom, she pointed to the stove. "What about your food?"

"Later," he drawled. "It can wait. This can't."

Her smile put the brilliance of the candles to shame.

In the room that could have doubled as a walk-in closet, the spectacle of flickering lights continued. The suitcase was still lying open on the bed. "One sec," he muttered, adjusting his hold to give it a few kicks. The thing held on like it had claws. With one final hard shove it ended up upside down on the floor. "Oops."

The giggle against his neck made him want to repeat the process all over again, except that would only delay getting his woman naked. Fiancée, he corrected in his head, feeling as though he could conquer the world if needed.

Mark lowered Virginia to the mattress like she was made of glass and hovered over her, his gaze drifting down to take in all the new contours and— Oh, shit. Abruptly, he straightened, his eyes popping wide. "Are we even allowed to . . ?"

"Yes." Virginia grabbed his hand. "We'll just have to"—she tugged him down next to her with a salacious grin—"go slowly."

"Oh, I think I'm up to the task." Giving a silent thank you to the good Lord above, Mark stretched out beside her, more than filling the empty space, his left shoulder and both feet hanging over the edges.

"We need a bigger bed," she said.

"Tomorrow. Tonight you can sleep on me if you have to." He rolled onto his side to kiss a path down her neck while murmuring, "Not that we'll be sleeping. Much." Grabbing her arm, he pulled her up and shifted his weight over. Her legs parted, and as she kneeled above him, he did an ab crunch and ripped off his shirt. The jeans were next, his fingers making short work of the button and fly combo before everything was pushed to the floor. When he collapsed back down, he brought his hands to her thighs and stroked soft skin as he slowly raised the hem of the dress higher and higher.

Her breathing grew heavy as her eyes got their fill, and he had to remind himself to be patient. Except then she sank down to his hips, and when the warmth of her met the heat of him, his whole body jerked.

"You're not wearing any panties, baby," he hissed.

He knew she was blushing even though he couldn't see it in the dim light. It was obvious in the hunch of her shoulders, the dip of her chin, the coy smile. "My cute ones don't fit," she said with a hint of insecurity in her voice.

He should have been paying more attention, but as aroused as he was, he was focused on the dress. "Let's get rid of this." He grabbed the lower half of the material, intending to peel the whole thing up and off, but her hands on his wrists stopped him.

"Can we leave it on?"

He frowned. "No."

She looked to the side table. "Can we blow out the candles, then?"

Ding, ding, ding. He cupped her face in his palms. "No. You are beautiful, now and always. I want to see you. All of you."

It took her a moment, but when she finally nodded, he wasted no time and yanked the floral print right over her head . . . and realized beautiful was an understatement. Sensual curves and the distinctly feminine shape caused that feeling that he could overcome anything to come roaring back, tenfold. She was the picture of health, resplendent in the glow of maternity.

"How do you do that," she whispered.

"Do what?"

"Make me feel like I'm the most amazing thing you've ever seen."

"That's because you are." He brought his hands to her belly, brushing them over the gentle swell. "Do you know? Boy or girl?"

"No. I wanted it to be a surprise." Her brows shot up. "Unless you–"

"No, I'm good. Whatever you want."

Her laugh was low and sexy. "You may regret saying that later when I have some weird craving at two in the morning."

Mark shook his head as he kept up the lazy stroking. "Nope. I'll be too busy running to the closest all-night grocery store."

"I wasn't talking about food. All these hormones go straight to the libido."

Oh, man, there really was a God. "Well, I shall rise to the challenge."

"Literally," they both said at the same time before bursting into laughter.

There was a moment of silence, each of them caught up in their personal images of the future. He was going to be a father and as mind blowing as that was, there was the added bonus of being her husband. Picturing the two of them raising a family together filled him with a kind of peaceful euphoria, but it wasn't long before Mark's joy plummeted. Thoughts of what he could have lost, what that asshole Walt could have taken from him obliterated the view like a sinister shadow.

It must have shown on his face, because she bent down to kiss him, her dark hair falling all around him, a cave of fragrant waves. When she straightened, she touched her stomach. "Happy thoughts only from here on out. For the baby."

She was right. Anger and negativity were not healthy.

"This will cheer you up." She reached up her back and unhooked the bra. With a smile, she pulled it off and tossed it to the side. "Enjoy these porn star boobs while you can."

He took what she offered, capturing the heavy weights, hearing the little moan of pleasure come up her throat as she arched into his touch. Her breasts were bigger, no doubt about it, but there was no way of improving on perfection. "You know what they say—more than a handful is a waste. And you, my love, have always been a handful."

Her smile was devious, and as if to confirm what he'd just said, she eased up, fisted his shaft, and slid all that he had inside of her. As a wave of pleasure slammed into him, his head kicked back and his palms hit the mattress in an effort to keep still and let her do all the work. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on his pecs and found a rhythm that made her breasts bounce and nearly drove him to the brink of insanity.

He marveled at the vision of her while trying to stay in control, and suddenly something deep inside him shifted. The anger from his youth had served him well, had helped him manage the bitter path he had been walking for the last ten years—but it had also nearly destroyed him. Time had slowly chipped away at most of his memories of happiness, but here, with her, he could build on what was left, the good pieces brought back together to form a sturdy base. She was his glue, strengthening, sealing, forging a bond that could never be broken.

With her, he would be whole again.

END OF CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

What do you think of Virginia's insecurity? I think it's something all women who are or have been pregnant can relate to. Am I right?

Only two chapters to go! Coming up: I hate to say it, but yes, there is a death.😳

I have to give credit to my author friend @MichelleSmith473 for the "porn star boobs." We were talking about pregnancy one day when this term came up, and I couldn't stop laughing. I had to use it. Thank you❣️

All votes ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and comments 💬💬💬💬are appreciated, and there aren't many chances left!