‘You’re kidding?’ I leaned over his computer screen to see a confirmation for an ice sculpture proposal, with the sculptures dotted along a favourite walk showing different landmarks in the couple’s life – leading up to a sculpture of a man proposing to a woman. That was beautiful and it definitely had Harry’s unique fingerprints all over it.

He pulled me down onto his lap and I quickly put the mugs down so I didn’t slosh hot tea all over him. Wrapping his arms round my waist, he nuzzled into my neck, peppering light kisses across my collarbone.

‘Have I told you today how much I love you?’

I smiled hugely. ‘You tell me every day, several times a day in fact.’

‘I only speak the truth.’

I pressed my hand against his chest and then kissed the gap between my finger and thumb, right above his heart.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted – why don’t we go back to bed for a little bit.’ He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

‘It’s nine-thirty.’

‘Hmmm.’ He resumed his kissing, pulling the jumper off my shoulder gently so his mouth could continue unhindered.

‘In the morning.’

‘So?’

‘You’ve answered one phone call, I’ve made tea, it’s hardly a constructive use of our time.’

‘I worked hard on that phone call.’ He snaked his hand up my thigh. He had been like this ever since he had proposed to me six months before. The final proposal that is, not the hundred proposals before that. He had always been touchy feely, but since I’d said yes he had taken the tactility to new levels. Whenever we were within touching distance he would stroke my hair, hold my hand, ply me with kisses and hugs – it was like he physically couldn’t be apart from me. And the sex was incredible. I guess we were still in the honeymoon stage of not being able to keep our hands off each other. I loved it.

His computer pinged with the arrival of another email and he paused slightly in his kisses but after a second’s hesitation he resumed where he had left off. His computer pinged again with another email.

‘Well if someone hadn’t had the bright idea of doing One Hundred Christmas Proposals I’d be taking you back to the bedroom and…’ I whispered in his ear exactly what I wanted to do to him and laughed when I saw him blush. ‘But as it happens, we’ve never been busier so unfortunately there’s just no time.’

Harry scowled as I stood up and sat behind my desk.

‘If you’re good I might give you a quickie at lunchtime.’

His face lit up for a second then the frown came back. ‘There’ll be nothing quick about it.’

I fired up my laptop and stared at all the unanswered emails that had come in on the company account overnight. Our company the.PerfectProposal.com had boomed in the last ten months, ever since Harry had started his mission to find me the perfect proposal last Valentine’s Day. Over five hundred thousand people had logged on to read the final proposal post and our phone had barely stopped ringing since. To prove the point, the phone rang between us but before I’d even made a move to answer it, Harry snatched it up.

‘The Perfect Proposal, Harry speaking.’ I smiled. He was so smooth and professional. He nodded as he quickly typed something into his computer and scrolled through a few web pages.

I scrolled down the emails for any urgent Christmas proposals. After our success with One Hundred Proposals, Harry had wanted to carry on the theme but for our clients, not for us. His brilliant idea was to arrange, carry out and blog about one hundred clients’ proposals during the month of December. I couldn’t mind the extra work Harry’s Christmas promotion had created, but I was looking forward to the break. On January first, Harry and I were flying off to Canada to spend two weeks locked in a log cabin – without the internet, phones or any communication with the outside world. I couldn’t wait.

I clicked on an email and read through the request. This man wanted to go snowmobiling. In England. I turned round and looked out the window. The sky was slate grey, rain lashed against the window in great sheets and the trees outside on the green bowed in the unforgiving wind. But not a single flake of snow had fallen since the start of December, and as it was the twenty-first it didn’t look likely that I could arrange that sort of thing by Christmas Day. We could do fireworks, helicopter rides, brass bands, even a ride in a submarine – but I couldn’t make it snow. Instead I priced how much it would cost to go to Iceland for the weekend – they would almost definitely have snow at this time of year and hotels and flights were quite cheap, especially with my contacts.

I sent the details over to him and then noticed I had another email from Alexander. I smiled. This was one of many proposals that were happening on New Year’s Eve, but one that was closest to my heart as it was taking place in St Dunstan-in-the-East, a public garden inside an abandoned church and one of my favourite places in the world.

Alexander had seemed very laidback about the whole proposal and what to include. He was adamant that it should be at St Dunstan’s, apparently his bride-to-be loved the place, but the other details he had left to me. I loved proposals like this, a whole project I could get behind. So far I had arranged for fairy lights to be strewn across the church and around the old windows. Using Harry’s idea that he had come up with for our penultimate proposal with the jam jars, I had arranged for a hundred jars filled with real candles to create a small path through the church to where the proposal would take place. Friends and family were going to be there too so I’d booked a hog roast to cater for forty people. Alexander loved the sound of that. He wanted something to mark their life together so I had suggested that on one of the walls we could arrange for a projector to beam СКАЧАТЬ

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One Hundred Christmas Proposals: A feel-good, romantic comedy to make you smile. Holly Martin
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