Page 28 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

I ’d never been much of a planner when it came to romance. The women I dated before Mina? They got dinner reservations, maybe flowers if I saw a street vendor on the way. But this was something I couldn’t have handed off to anyone. It had to be from me. For her.

The sun was already blazing when Mina padded barefoot across the Bellagio suite, her hair still tousled from sleep, wearing one of my shirts like it belonged to her. She looked out the window, yawning and stretching, while I sipped my coffee and tried not to combust just watching her.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” she asked, blinking at me.

I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “I’ve got a surprise.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s a good one.”

She raised a brow. “Better than dinner and bathtub confessions?”

“Debatable. But bigger, for sure.”

Her smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Give me a hint.”

“Nope. Just get dressed. Something comfortable. But cute. We’re going on an adventure.”

She groaned dramatically but disappeared into the bedroom with a little bounce in her step that made my heart sing.

An hour later, she was beside me in the back of a black SUV, her hand holding mine, her eyes wide as she pieced it together.

“Wait… that’s a helipad.”

I grinned. “You catch on quick.”

“Are you kidnapping me? Again?

“No, but now that you say it, you’d be a very charming hostage. Tying you up might be fun.”

Her cheeks burned bright red. “Isaac,” she hissed.

I winked and climbed out of the car. I reached my hand in to help her out.

“Ever flown in a helicopter?” I asked her.

“Plenty.” She shrugged. “When we needed to get to the Hamptons in a hurry.”

I laughed. “Of course.”

“But I have a feeling this is going to be a very different kind of helicopter ride,” she said.

“I hope so.”

The pilot greeted us and got us buckled in, going through the safety protocol while Mina looked half giddy, half terrified. She squeezed my hand as the blades began to spin.

“I swear to God, if this is how I die, Isaac Bancroft, you’re going to regret it.”

“We’ll go down together. Romantic, right?”

“You’re so weird.” She laughed.

The helicopter took off, rising high above the city and giving us an amazing look of Vegas.

Her laughter was unguarded and completely pure.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Every time she looked out at the red rocks and the Grand Canyon as it came into view, I saw a girl completely caught in the moment.

Not the heiress. Not the troublemaker. Just Mina.

And I found myself incredibly drawn to her.

But I wasn’t scared.

That was the weirdest part.

The flight took us over the edge of the canyon.

The wind buffeted us slightly as we hovered above the Colorado River.

Mina pressed her face to the window, letting out breathless little exclamations that made the pilot chuckle.

When we touched down on a limestone outcrop—one that jutted out from the canyon wall like a throne—the pilot gave us a nod and left us alone.

There, waiting in the middle of the rock, was a picnic I’d arranged: cushions, a blanket, a basket of food and champagne, and not a single soul in sight.

Mina turned to me, mouth open. “You did this?”

I shrugged, hands in my pockets. “Surprise.”

She walked in a circle, staring down at the canyon below, then at the setup, then back to me. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

I stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You deserve things like this, Mina.”

She laughed, suddenly flustered. “Okay, well, I don’t know how to handle this kind of romantic gesture. Usually I just get drunk and send chaotic memes at three in the morning.”

“That tracks.”

She narrowed her eyes and jabbed me in the ribs. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

We sat on the edge of the blanket, the wind warm on our faces. We picked at the fruit and pastries while the champagne chilled in an ice bucket between us.

Mina kept teasing me—her default defense mechanism when things got too soft, I’d noticed. She threw a grape at my head. I caught it in my mouth. She pouted. I teased her for pouting, and she called me an egomaniac. It was perfect. I loved that we could have fun even when things were serious.

She sat quietly, her eyes gazing out at the amazing view, and slowly ate the cheese and cracker. Her hair blew around her face and I knew a lot of women would not be impressed by a simple picnic. They’d be pissed their hair was getting mussed.

But not Mina. She was completely at ease.

When we were together, we fed off each other’s energy, but we also calmed each other.

With her, I felt like my soul could sit still.

I didn’t need to joke or run or talk shit.

I could let down my guard and just be me, as if I was sitting alone in my penthouse.

I told myself I wasn’t going to do anything until I knew for certain. After last night and now this moment, I knew.

I’d known for days. Maybe longer.

This was it.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

She laughed softly. “Uh oh.”

“Hey.”

“No, no. Sorry. Go on.”

I smiled, heart starting to beat faster. “Which can be dangerous, I’ll admit. Especially for me.”

“Very.”

“But maybe I’m crazy or maybe I’m finally learning how to listen to my gut.”

She tilted her head, giving me a funny look. “And what’s your gut saying?”

“That we’ve got something here. Something special.”

Her teasing faded, eyes searching mine.

“Unless you disagree.”

She swallowed, then shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t. I mean, I agree. I don’t disagree.”

My heart raced. Shit .

This was it.

I reached into the pocket of my cargo shorts and pulled out the small black velvet box.

Mina froze.

I held it in my palm but didn’t open it yet. “When we started seeing each other, I never imagined I’d want this. I thought our pushy fathers were wrong. I wasn’t happy about being pushed into a date but I don’t regret it. I hate to say it, but I think my father was right. I want this.”

She blinked at me. “Want what?”

“This. Us. The real version. I thought you were just a means to an end—an escape, maybe. You thought the same about me.”

“Definitely.”

I laughed softly. “But every day I’ve spent with you has been better than the day before. You make things chaotic, yeah. But you also make them brighter. I’ve never felt more alive than I have with you.”

“Isaac…”

“I think we were meant to find each other like this. Backwards. Out of order. Through all the noise.”

Her eyes welled up. I opened the box.

The ring sparkled in the sunlight, nestled in its velvet case like a promise.

The diamond was a flawless, cushion-cut stone.

The many facets caught the sunlight and created a thousand tiny rainbows.

It was set in a delicate platinum band, with smaller diamonds encircling the base, giving it an understated elegance that still managed to be breathtaking.

It wasn’t ostentatious or over the top—it was perfect for her.

Mina’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at the ring. “Isaac, I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“You say you’re a loose cannon. That you’re trouble. Unruly. Too much.”

She sniffed, trying to smile through it.

“Same,” I said, my voice rough.

She let out a teary laugh.

“But we match each other’s crazy, Mina. And somehow we balance each other too. When things feel like they are spiraling, all I have to do is look at you or touch you and I calm down.”

She stared at me, hands over her mouth.

“I love you,” I said, the words falling out of me like I’d been holding them back for years. “I didn’t expect it. I didn’t even want it. But I love you so much it scares the hell out of me. And for once, I’m not running from it, scary or not.”

She gasped softly, eyes locked on mine.

“I want you. I want all the mess and all the beauty. I want to build something with you. I know this is crazy fast, but I think we both know we’re not the traditional kind. We don’t have to date for a year or any of that bullshit. When we know, we know. So… will you marry me?”

For a long, breathless moment, she didn’t say anything.

Then she whispered, “It’s so soon.”

“I know.”

“How can you be sure you want this with me?”

“Because it’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

She looked down at the ring, then back at me. “I’m… I’m not easy.”

“I’m not asking you to be.”

“I’m impulsive.”

“Same.”

“I cry when commercials feature dogs. Like, all the time.”

“I’ll hand you the tissues.”

“I don’t cook.”

“I burn toast.”

Her face crumpled, and she laughed even as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“I can’t believe I’m not scared.”

She met my eyes.

And then she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Something broke wide open in my chest.

She threw herself into my arms, nearly knocking the box out of my hands. I kissed her—her cheeks, her mouth, her nose, every place I could reach—while she cried and laughed and held on to me like she never wanted to let go.

“I love you too,” she murmured into my neck. “God, I love you.”

I slipped the ring onto her finger, my hands shaking a little. It fit perfectly.

She held out her hand and stared at the ring. “It’s stunning,” she said.

“We can always pick out something different,” I offered.

She frowned at me. “Absolutely not. This is the one.”