A Christmas Spirit by Cindy Miles Page B

tonight.” She glanced at him and smiled. “I hadn’t counted on having an occasion to dress up for.”
    “You’re perfect the way you are,” he assured her, and traced the curve of her hair with a finger. “Absolutely perfect.”
    She shyly looked away.
    And it was then Gabriel drew in a deep, long breath, and turned to face her.
    ’Twas now or never . . .

Chapter Fourteen
    Paige turned her head and studied Gabriel’s profile. He did look ill. Something was bothering him.
    It made her seriously nervous.
    Then, he turned fully toward her.
    “You’ve changed my life, Paige MacDonald,” he said quietly, grazing the top of her knuckles with one long finger. “I canna remember the last time I looked forward to the day, or the sunset, sunrise.” He smiled. “Or snowfall, as much as I do now. Before, ’twas merely goin’ through motions of unlife. ’Tis what I do, and there’s no gettin’ round it.” He moved closer, and stroked her jaw with his knuckles. “Until now. Now, with you, I’m experiencin’ everythin’ as though for the verra first time. It’s all new, fresh.” He grazed her lips. “I dunna want you to leave, Paige.”
    She looked at him, waiting.
    His eyes softened as they locked with hers. “And I dunna wish for you to just be my guest, or my companion.”
    She swallowed past the large lump in her throat.
    Lowering his head, he moved his mouth to her ear. “I am in love wi’ you, Paige MacDonald.” He pulled back, just enough to look her in the eye, and her heart lurched. “I know ’tis fast, but I feel as though we were meant to be together, as though you were sent here.” He smiled. “Just for me.”
    Paige blinked, swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak, but Gabriel placed a single finger over her lips. “Shh, love, I need to finish.”
    She waited, tears already burning her eyes.
    “I canna live without you, Paige.” Sincerity burned deep in his green eyes. “I know ’tis daft soundin’,” he began, as he closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “But will you wed me, Paige MacDonald?” He stroked her jaw, her lips, her throat. “Will you wed the spirit of an aged warrior? You know I’ve nothin’ to offer but my undyin’ love for you—”
    “Shh,” Paige said, placing her fingers over his lips to hush him. She searched his face, looked deeply into his eyes and saw nothing but pure, raw honesty and sincere love.
    So surprised by it, she gasped.
    “Oh, Gabriel,” she whispered in awe. “You’ve more to offer than anyone.” She placed a hand over his heart, and for a second, she imagined his smooth skin stretched tight over rock-h ard muscle and the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. “Your soul,” she said, again whispering, not trusting her voice to be any louder. “I am so in love with you,” she said, and moved her mouth close to his ear. “I will wed you, Gabriel Munro.” She stroked his jaw. “And I would love to be your wife.”
    Paige saw many things cross Gabriel’s face. Relief, joy, love—all things she herself felt. His smile began with nothing more than his dimples pitting his cheeks. The longer he stared at her, searching her eyes, the wider his smile grew. Finally, he threw back his head and laughed, the sexy, deep sound echoing throughout Gorloch’s great hall.
    Paige felt her own smile pulling at her mouth, and she simply watched in awe as her Highlander moved close, placed a hand on either side of her head, which rested on sofa cushions, and looked her dead in the eye.
    Suddenly, his smile faded, replaced by something else entirely. She couldn’t exactly put a finger on it.
    “Are you sure you can stand livin’ with someone for the rest of your days who cannot physically touch you? Or satisfy you in the ways a husband satisfies his woman?” he asked. “Truly?”
    Paige sought his eyes, eager to put his fears at ease. “You touch me in ways you cannot fathom, Gabriel Munro. Everything else, we’ll learn