by Jayne Castle
Sierra looked at the Green Gate sign. "I know."
"Nobody proposes a Covenant Marriage on his lunch hour."
"That's what Matt said."
"You're supposed to propose CMs over dinner," Fontana explained very seriously. "Every guy knows that."
"Right. Dinner."
"So," Fontana said, "since we just finished dinner, will you consider entering into a Covenant Marriage with me?"
She felt as if she had just fallen off the balcony. Weightless. Dazed. Disoriented.
"What?" she yelped.
"Not exactly the response I was hoping for."
"Are you serious?" she demanded.
"Maybe I should tell you another little secret. Men never joke about Covenant Marriage."
"Neither do women. What is going on here? We've only known each other a few days, and it was a business arrangement from the start."
"Not quite."
She drew a breath, thinking of the passion they had shared. "Okay, not quite."
"I knew I wanted you forever the day you walked into my office. I've been waiting for you all of my life."
"Oh, Fontana," she said softly.
"If you need more time, I'll understand. Traditionally, there's a long engagement before a Covenant Marriage. We can have one of those if you like. But it won't change anything for me."
The strange, off-balance sensation evaporated. A wonderful sense of certainty took its place.
"I felt the same way about you the day I walked into your office," she said. "The moment I saw you, my intuition kicked in. I knew you were the one."
He set the glass aside and cradled her face in his powerful hands. "I love you, Sierra."
She smiled, gloriously sure. "I love you."
"Guess this means I'll be going to your grandparents' anniversary party."
"It looks that way, yes. Think you can handle it?"
"I'm a Guild boss."
"You can handle anything."
He laughed. "As long as I've got you."
He kissed her then, sealing the promise. After a while they went into the apartment and down the hall to the bedroom.
The energy of love flashed and flared and sparked in the night.
OUT ON THE BALCONY ELVIS TOOK UP A POSITION ON the table beside the empty pizza box. His white cape glittered in the angled beam of light that shone from the living room behind him. He waited.
It didn't take long for his audience to appear. The dust bunnies materialized out of the fog by the dozens, lining the balcony railing and crowding the prime front row seats, the chairs and the lounger.
Elvis picked up his guitar. Time to rock 'n rez.
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