He pried the garbage bag from one of her hands and a wad of paper from the other. “I love you,” he said.

Shay thought of the mink coat lying on her bedroom floor, the sapphire ring on her finger, the stack of elegantly wrapped gifts tucked beneath the Christmas tree. “I will not be your mistress, Mitch Prescott,” she said in a firm whisper.

Puzzlement darkened his eyes to a deeper shade of brown. “My what?”

“You heard me. If we’re going to be together at all, we’re going to be married.”

One of his hands rose to cup her face. His skin was cold from the crisp Christmas-morning weather outside, and yet his touch was unbelievably warm. “I’m ready to deal,” he said, and the light in his eyes was mischievous.

Shay’s heart was hammering against her rib cage. “Are you saying yes, or what?”

“Of course I’m saying yes.”

Shay’s relief was of such intensity that it embarrassed her, coloring her cheeks. Her eyes snapped. “It so happens, Mr. Prescott, that there are a few conditions.”

“Such as?” he crooned the words, his thumb moving along Shay’s jawline and setting waves of heat rolling beneath her skin.

Shay swallowed hard. “I feel so foolish.”

He kissed her, just nibbling at her lips, at once calming her and exciting her in a very devastating way. “You, the rainbow mender? Foolish? Never.”

“I worked very hard to start my catering business,” she blurted out. There was more to say, but Shay’s courage failed her.

“I understand.”

Shay forced herself to go on. “I don’t think you do, Mitch. I—I thought it was what I wanted, but—”

Mitch arched one eyebrow. “But?”

“But it isn’t. Not for now, anyway. Mitch, I want to take a time-out. I want to let Barbara and Louise run the business for a while. For now, I’d just like to be your wife and Hank’s mother.”

His lips twitched slightly. “Why was that so hard to say?” he asked, and he was holding Shay close now, so close that she could feel the beat of his heart through his coat.

“I guess I thought you were going to be horrified, or something,” Shay mused aloud. “Most women of today…”

“You are not ‘most women,’ Shay.” He cupped his hand under her chin and made her look at him. “I hope you kept that cardboard rainbow.”

Shay was puzzled. “It’s in the utility room. Why would you want a paper rainbow?”

Mitch ran a finger along her jawline again, setting her aquiver. “For the rainy days, Shay. There will be a few of those, you know.”

She understood then, and she smiled. “We’ll have our quarrels, I suppose.”

“Quarrels? We’ll have wars, Shay.” The brown eyes twinkled. “But we’ll have a good time negotiating the peace treaties.”

Shay laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Ummm. I like the sound of that.”

He swatted her bottom with one hand. “You would, you shameless vixen!” His whisper sent an aching heat all through her, and so did his gentle nip at her earlobe.