“We'll build our own home."
The promise curled around her heart, a vivid ray of sunlight. "In Manhattan?"
"Of course." A slow, slow smile. "What kind of mansion would you like?"
Damn, but the archangel was playing with her again. The sunshine grew, filled her veins.
"Actually, I kind of like yours." She slid her arms around his neck. "Can I have it? Oh, and can I have Jeeves, too? I've always wanted a butler."
"Yes."
She blinked. "Just like that?"
"It's only a place."
"We'll make it more," she promised, her mouth to his. "We'll make it ours.”