Page 128 of Brooklynaire

His smile becomes amused. “It’s okay if it gets wet, youknow.”

“Not with me,” I squeak. “There’s a small fortune on myfinger.”

“It’sinsured.”

Still.

“Listen, I know I just blew your mind a little bit, but I need to blow it some more,” hesays.

“Okay?” I can’t imagine there’s anything he could say right now more shocking than a marriage proposal. And to think I had written off tonight as adisaster.

Nate takes my hand and holds it, admiring his handiwork. “Marrying me is more complicated than dating me. There’spaperwork.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” I say, kissing him on the nose. “I’ll sign whatever prenup your lawyer can dreamup.”

He flinches. “There has to be a prenup. Can I tell youwhy?”

“Because you have a billiondollars?”

“That’s not why.” He smiles at me again, and it’s hard to concentrate. “It’s because of my voting rights. If someone thought the power structure of KTech could be put into play by our divorce, then someone might decide he has millions to gain by breaking usup.”

“Oh,” I say slowly. “That’s creepy.” My mind doesn’t usually leap right to the worst-case scenario. Although, after witnessing Juliet’s fucktard of a husband tonight, I was more primed than usual to understand that creepsexist.

“Yeah,” he says gently. “So the prenup will have to give me all my KTech shares. But I don’t think you’ll care, because there’s a wedding gift I want to give you. And it’s important to me that you acceptit.”

“Um…I don’t need anything, Nate. I never really cared about your big bucks, except I don’t mind when you pick up the dinnercheck.”

His warm, wet palm slides down my smiling face. “I know,” he whispers, and the sound of his voice vibrates in mychest.

I wonder if we can have this conversation later, because we should be starting up the celebration sex right about now. His strong chest glistens with droplets of water, and I’m suddenly inspired to lick it alloff.

“The gift you’re getting is a certain hockey franchise. They made a recent run at the championship, and I think they’ll continue to flourish under newleadership.”

“What?” I say stupidly. I’m getting the sex tingles, and Nate is somehow talking about hockeyagain.

“You’re going to be the new owner of the Brooklyn Bruisers. You won’t be shtupping the boss anymore. But I expect to have sex inyouroffice at leastonce.”

My poor little brain can’t quite wrap itself around this idea. “Own…the team?” That makes nosense.

“Yeah, baby. You’ll be great. I’ve had a good run, and you’re going to be able to give it more attention than I probably should. And nobody loves the Bruisers more, right? So whynotyou?”

“Because it’syours?”

“Not for long.” He shakes his head and smiles at me. “I need you more than I need to own the team. And I want you to have it. We might have to get married before I can sign it over. It’s because of gift taxes. Or something. My accountant can explain it toyou.”

Now I’m officially done. There is no more shocking information that I can take in tonight. But maybe I don’t have to. We kiss again and again. Then Nate hits the switch to drain the tub. He urges me to my feet. I can’t even grab a towel before he steers my dripping body toward the bed, pushes me onto that soft cloud, and wraps his body aroundmine.

* * *

“Istill have some questions,”I admit as we lay in bed, cuddling and making plans. Or trying, anyway. There’s a lot of kissing that gets in the way of the planning. Also, I have to stop every couple of minutes to admire the way my ring shines even in thedark.

“Shoot,” Nate says, hugging mecloser.

“Are your parents going to beupset?”

“About what? My mom loves you. Everyone loves you. We’ve been overthis.”

“But I’m a shiksa. Don’t they want you to marry a nice Jewishgirl?”