“As a man of business, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I bite my lower lip. He didn’t even balk at the suggestion. He’s committed.

My brain reels. What else should I be asking right now? I only sat in on a few negotiations at my internship; even then, most of the financial details had already been finalized by the time we got to the table. I screw my face up in thought, but I can’t hold back my grin any longer. “You want us here.”

“I do.”

“You want to use my design.”

“And I want to pay you for your work. I’ve seen quotes from several firms. I can guarantee a competitive rate.”

I press my fingertips to his lips to shush him. “One step at a time.” Having my design realized at Pemberley is already a dream coming true, and the chance to share this with my nearest and dearest has me light-headed. Talking about money would probably make me pass out.

“It was your work, Bennet.” He hooks his fingers into the front of my dress, right where, if I were wearing one, the straps of a bra would connect to cups. He uses the hold to pull me close and kisses my neck, letting his lips linger. “You inspired me.”

My breath shudders as his tongue flits against my jawline. “I have to run it by everyone. Package deal.” I’m rambling, trying to get out the last of my transactional concerns before I’m completely swept away by the giddiness tugging at me and the very real inclination to explore the weight-bearing properties of the table behind me.

“Funny you should mention that,” he says into the skin below my ear. “Because I suspect we’re about to be interrupted.”

As if on cue, Darcy’s phone vibrates on the bench seat. I glare down at it—

CB: Please don’t forget that we’re up here and can see everything u2r doing.

“What?” I look up, scanning the floor above. My attention settles on movement in the darkened window of Darcy’s office. A light turns on—

I gasp. Andrea, Tonic, Ming, Esteban, and Michael. Even Chloe and Gales—how did they beat us here? Everyone is up there, faces and hands pressed to the glass like they’re scouring a zoo exhibit for an evasive resident.

And there’s Jane, alternately looking between me and his phone, and Charles, who waves both arms. Is he—I squint—holding bottles of champagne?