Page 33 of Tempting the Billionaire

She nods in acceptance, taking a seat at the dining room table. I glance past her, out the window to the beach, even though I know I won’t see much. I check my phone again, and my eyes light up. A text from my assistant.

Everything’s ready.

I straighten my shirt—a nice, short-sleeved button up—and swallow. I pat my pants pocket, feeling the outline of a small box. Damn, I didn’t think I’d be nervous for this. I really didn’t.

I turn to Emma, holding out a hand. “Come with me,” I request with a smile.

She smiles back, but her brows furrow in slight confusion. I motion for her to leave her coffee, and then I lead her to the back door, stepping out into the soft sunlight. “We were just outside,” she says with a laugh.

I don’t reply, simply grasp her hand tighter as I pull her down the steps to the beach. The lounge chairs we’d been sitting in barely ten minutes ago are gone, leaving a straight path through the sand. Once on the beach, I turn right, and that’s when Emma sees it.

She gasps, putting her free hand over her mouth. Her eyes meet mine, already teary, and fuck am I going to have a hard time keeping it together.

Just twenty feet away, nestled in the sandy beach, is an array of flowers. Rose petals lead the way, scattered in the sand, to the outline of a heart made by bouquets of flowers. Behind it is a floral arrangement, standing upright, arranged in boxed letters that spell out the words, “Marry Me?”

My heart beating in my ears, I lead Emma through the rose petals to stand in the center of the heart. By the time I turn to her, tears are already making their way down her cheeks.

I chuckle softly, reaching out to gently brush some of the tears away with my thumb. “Sweetheart,” I begin, and it only makes her tears come faster. “I love you more than I even thought possible.”

She grasps my hand in hers, pulling it tightly against her chest.

“I know it’s only been a year, but I can’t stand the thought of you ever not being mine. When my life felt like it was on the brink of falling apart, you saved me. You’re my light, my love, my everything.”

I pull my hand from her grasp, sinking to a knee before her and pulling the ring box from my pocket. “Emma Hayes,” I say, and her eyes sparkle through her tears. “Make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?”

I open the ring box, revealing the Emma ring—the one she’d picked out a year ago to add to our store, the one she’d said she would’ve chosen for herself, the ring that has reminded me of her every day since.

Recognition dawns on her face, and then in answer to my question, she nods furiously. “Yes,” she cries through choked emotion. “Yes, Ezra, yes.”

I place the ring on her shaky finger before she reaches for me, and I stumble to my feet, pulling her against me for a kiss. She clings to my shirt, pulling me closer. I smile against her lips—our first kiss as fiancés.

She pulls back, glancing around at the bouquets and flower arrangements. “How did you do this?” she laughs.

“My assistant,” I say with a smile.

She nods knowingly.

“My assistant,” I say, leaning down to graze the nape of her neck with my lips, “who is no longer here.”

She giggles, catching on and playfully swatting my shoulder. “Lead the way, Mr. Bishop.”

I growl, leaning down to scoop her up into my arms. “I love when you call me that,” I murmur, turning on my heel and stalking across the sand toward the house.

She leans her head against my shoulder. “I know.”

I push open the back door, stalking into the house and setting her down. “And soon,” I say, moving to pin her against the wall, “I’ll get to call you Mrs. Bishop.”

She grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me in for a kiss.

The End