Silence. The man’s eye ran over his dark suit, white shirt, red tie, and Stetson.

“I’m here to see Hope.”

“Come in. I’m her father, Gerald Diamond.” He didn’t extend his hand, probably because of the flowers. The man took him into a high-ceilinged room with beautiful rugs from the Middle East covering part of the oak flooring, and windows overlooking the hills that rolled gently down to Hollywood.

An attractive, blond-haired woman in a blue chiffon dress rose from the couch and extended her hands. “Mr. Dennison, I’m Hope’s mother, Louise.”

Her smile chipped the frozen atmosphere. “Please, call me Matt. I’m happy to meet you. I see the resemblance in your eyes.” He handed her the white roses.

She gave him her daughter’s smile. “Thank you for these lovely flowers. I’ll put them in water.”

Mr. Diamond pointed to the couch, so Matt sat down. Her father remained standing. “All Hope has told us about you is that she’s known you barely any time at all and has a notion to marry you.”

Matt hadn’t served in Military Intelligence without recognizing a challenge. He tossed a curve. “That gal has a great sense of humor.”

“I’m glad to hear she was joking.”

Matt’s jaw clenched to cover his embarrassment at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, a habit he was trying to kick.

Louise came back into the room and set the flowers on the low, glass coffee table. “Would you like a drink?”

Matt stood up. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” A double bourbon would be nice.

Mr. Diamond turned to Matt. “May I ask what you do for a living, Mr. Dennison? I notice you carry a gun.”

“I’m FBI.” He took out his identification card and handed it to the Chief of Police.

The man took his time reading the card, occasionally lifting his eyes up at Matt.

While waiting with that sinking feeling of being stopped for speeding, Matt studied the toes of his boots. This meeting wasn’t going well, and he trembled at the thought that Hope’s parents didn’t approve of him.

After what seemed like hours, Mr. Diamond handed back the card. “How did you meet our daughter?” 

“During a murder investigation on the Navajo Nation.” Despite the fact that Matt had interviewed hundreds of witnesses and criminals, his palms felt clammy. 

“And you work on the reservation. Do you expect Hope to leave her business here in California? She’s made quite a success of Diamond Security.” 

Although Hope’s father had a right to question him, Matt’s shoulders tightened at the implied criticism that he expected Hope to sacrifice her business for him. His voice was tight. “I’ve transferred to L.A.” 

“I’m relieved to hear that.” Her mother put a hand on her heart.

The dramatic gesture was worthy of the stage. Hope had warned him her mother was an actress. He’d studied drama himself and felt as if he were in a scene and didn’t know his lines.

Glancing up the stairs, Matt took a breath. Hope was smiling down at him from the top of the staircase wearing her one-shoulder black jumpsuit, his favorite. She trailed her hand along the wrought iron railing coming down the stairs.

Matt met her at the bottom step and handed her the bouquet of red roses. 

“These roses are beautiful.” Her eyes smiled into his.

Reaching out, he embraced her. She felt so good in his arms, and powerful feelings swept over him. He knelt down on the step. “Diamond, I love you. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Her dark blue eyes sparkled, and her smile warmed the chill he’d felt talking with her dad. She nodded. “I love you, too, Matt.” 

He kissed her hands, pulled off his FBI ring, and slipped it on her finger. “This will have to do until we find one you like.” 

“I love it because it’s part of you.”

His glance caught her parents, and he blushed like a schoolboy.

Hope set down the flowers and stepped into his arm. He kissed her, all embarrassment swallowed up in their passionate embrace. 

When he turned, her mother and father had walked over to the windows. He swung back to Hope, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and walked her over to her parents.

As they approached, her father turned and coughed. “Isn’t it traditional for the man to ask the father’s permission for his daughter’s hand in marriage?”

Matt sucked in a breath. Was he never going to do anything right? He stuttered like a school boy. Before words came out, Hope squeezed his arm, and her impish expression told him he was being played.

“Dagnabit, lady. You got me good.” His FBI training should have kicked in sooner. Her father’s interrogation had been bogus, but Matt’s proposal must have hornswoggled them. 

“You certainly have style, young man,” Mrs. Diamond said. 

Matt smiled at Hope’s mother and opened his hands. “I love your daughter. I will do everything in my power to see that she’s happy and that she feels loved for the rest of her life.”

Tears flowed down her mother’s cheeks, and she swept Hope into her arms.

Mr. Diamond shook hands with Matt. “You’ve been a good sport, son. Welcome to the family.” 

Matt grinned. This family would keep him on his toes. 

Hope picked up a small pair of scissors and snipped off a rose. She tucked it in Matt’s lapel and grinned at her father. “To the winner goes the rose.” 

Matt took her hands in his and kissed them. “I’ll take the diamond.”