Bonus Chapter
Maeve
The lights of the city wink at me as we leave them behind, driving further and further out of town.
I don’t dare ask Pierce where we’re going.
I’ve learned my lesson by now. If I do .
. . well, let’s just say he’ll keep me occupied with other thoughts for the rest of the drive.
Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.
Beside me, Pierce shifts, then places his arm around the back of my seat. “Nervous?”
I shoot him an annoyed look. “No. Should I be?”
“Definitely not,” he says, entwining our fingers.
While “nervous” isn’t the word I’d choose, my curiosity is growing like a toddler as we reach the fields and meadows outside the city.
We rarely venture out this far for date nights.
“God, we’re not going to have a picnic, are we?
” I can already imagine the damp from the ground soaking into my dress.
He sniffs a laugh. “No, Maeve, we’re not having a picnic, but it’s good to know you find the idea completely repulsive.”
“They’re fine, as long as there are proper utensils and places to sit. But it’s dark.” I gesture to the window at my right.
“I don’t know,” he muses. “A candlelight picnic might be kind of romantic.” That infuriating smirk slips into its usual spot, and I can’t decide if I want to hit or kiss him.
Instead, I shudder. “If you think wooing me with romantic picnics in the dark is a good idea, you’re about to be sorely disappointed.”
He squeezes my hand, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, I have better game than that. Besides, I’ve already wooed you.”
I gasp in mock horror and yank my hand away. “Excuse me?”
He doesn’t look fazed. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t realize I had a choice.” As if I wouldn’t follow him across the world if he asked me to.
“Shall I stop the car?” He leans forward in the seat as if he actually intends to speak to the driver. Before I can call his bluff, the car slows and turns onto a gravel driveway.
“This is where you’re murdering me, isn’t it?” I say, staring out the window. The night is too black to see anything.
“Darn.” Pierce snaps his fingers. “You weren’t supposed to figure it out this quickly. I thought I had a few more minutes of oblivion before I had to put your blindfold on.”
Keeping my eyes fixed outside, I toss a half-hearted fist at his stomach.
It hurts me more than it does him, the rock-solid bastard.
The car slows as we approach what I presume to be our destination, and I feel anticipation growing in my chest, mingled with only the faintest trace of apprehension.
I would trust Pierce with my life. Whatever he has planned, I’m sure it will be terrific. Except—
“If you make me jump out of a plane again, Pierce St. James, I will—”
He cuts me off by roughly hauling me into his lap and kissing me. His hand pushes up the fabric of my dress before greedily reaching for my panties. I gasp as his fingers make contact with my dampness.
“You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you, you little vixen?” he murmurs against the side of my neck, gently rubbing his thumb over my clit.
I let out a barely audible cry, head thrown back.
The gentle pressure of his teeth against the exposed skin of my neck makes me gasp and buck, but he holds me firmly in place, working his fingers deeper inside me.
I quiver in his arms, on the verge of shattering when he withdraws them.
He places a chaste kiss on my lips and turns for the door.
I let out an annoyed cry. “What was that?”
“A teaser,” he says before slipping out of the car. Once outside, he buttons his jacket and reaches out his palm for me.
Pinning him with a murderous glare, I accept it begrudgingly. “You’re a wanker.”
“I know.” He drags me into his arms for a scorching kiss. “But at least I’m your wanker.”
“That is the corniest line ever used in the history of mankind.”
“Stick around. I have more.” He tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and starts walking.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I can make out a large object ahead of us. It looks like a small, misshapen dome. Several people are milling around it. After a few more steps, I realize what we’re approaching.
I come to an abrupt stop, yanking on Pierce’s arm. “Tell me that is not a hot air balloon,” I say, eyes on the huge arched item on the ground. An industrial-sized fan is inflating it like a giant sleeping bag.
“That’s not a hot air balloon,” he parrots back.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Fear has crept into my voice, and I swear I’m not scared, but— “That’s a hot air balloon, isn’t it?”
He nods vigorously and overenunciates his words. “Ding, ding, ding. It is.”
“I’m not riding in that thing.” I shake my head, eyes glued to the monstrosity.
“Why not?”
“You know I’m scared of heights.”
“But you’ve been doing so well.” In addition to sky diving, we’ve eaten dinner on top of the tallest building in the city, gone ziplining in the mountains of Peru, and walked the rope bridge over the forest in Kakum National Park.
“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.” Which is a lie, because they were all pretty incredible experiences, and—with the exception of sky diving—I rather enjoyed myself.
“Babe.” He turns me so that I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Do you think for a second that I’ll put you in a situation that endangers you?”
I shoot a meaningful look at the balloon.
“It’s perfectly safe. The pilot has twenty years of experience and has passed his certifications every year. I triple checked.”
I’ll admit, that information goes a long way toward reassuring me, at least until another thought crosses my mind. “Is that Deierdre’s balloon?”
Pierce tucks his lips between his teeth to keep from smiling. “No, that’s not Deirdre’s. That one is probably keeping her company in her prison cell as we speak.”
“You promise it’s safe?” I whisper.
“I promise you’re safe with me.” He cradles my face in his warm palms. “I’ll jump out of it myself before I let a single thing happen to you.”
I know he means it, so I lift my chin and inject as much courage into my veins as possible. “Okay.”
He drops another kiss on my lips. “Good girl.”
We approach the balloon and basket toppled over on their sides. It’s too dark to see the tapestry’s colors, but I’ll bet it’s beautiful in the daylight, a patchwork of vibrancy.
While we’re receiving an overview of what to expect, the balloon is being filled with hot air from the burners inside the basket.
It slowly rises from the ground, resembling a monster coming back to life.
I keep my hand tucked securely in Pierce’s large one.
Regardless of my own feelings on the matter, I trust him explicitly.
After we’ve received all the information we’re going to get and the balloon has passed its final inspection, Pierce helps me into the basket, which is now upright, the balloon fully inflated and looming over us, then jumps in after me.
The sides reach my chest but barely graze his ribcage.
God, what if he falls out because he’s so tall?
A chill permeates the night air, and I wrap my arms tighter around my middle. I’m grateful for the cardigan Pierce told me to bring. He wraps his arms around me from behind, practically trembling with excitement. I hope he has enough for both of us.
The loud roaring intensifies, and I look over Pierce’s shoulder to see the flames from the burners growing bigger.
As they do, not only does the air around us warm up, but the basket slowly lifts from the ground.
It isn’t as terrifying as I thought it might be—more like an elevator ride than anything.
I clasp the padded edge of the wicker basket as we rise, watching as below us everything slowly shrinks in size. Looking down isn’t half as terrifying as I expected. In fact, it’s oddly comfortable, more like being in an airplane than jumping out of one.
“Pretty incredible, isn’t it?” Pierce murmurs when the burner shuts off. At first, the lack of fire makes my insides seize, but the pilot doesn’t look worried, so I’m choosing not to either.
We drift over the city, its lights reflected back to us in the lake. While I’m sure it’s stunning in the daytime, there’s something about seeing it at night. It’s more luminescent, more breathtaking.
“I don’t have words,” I whisper.
“That’s a first,” he says, then dodges out of the way when I reach to pinch his arm.
After a few more minutes, Pierce turns to speak to the pilot, but I stay at the rim, mesmerized by the view. While I rarely admit to being wrong, I can say this is one time I’m glad I was. I would’ve never come up here on my own.
“Maeve.”
I turn at Pierce’s voice, and it takes me a second to realize he’s on the floor of the basket.
“What’s wrong?” I say, flashes of worst case scenarios already filling my head.
Is he hurt? Is there something wrong with the balloon?
Has the pilot passed out? (A quick glance confirms this, at least, isn’t the case.)
“Nothing’s wrong,” Pierce says.
“Then why are you down there?” I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder at the edge of the basket. We’re a long way up for something to go wrong now. If he’s trying to keep me from realizing—
“I want to ask you something.”
“Can’t you ask me up here?” I say, tugging my sweater closer.
He chuckles. “I’m trying to do this right.”
I can feel the frown lines creasing my forehead. “Do what?”
His tongue presses into the side of his cheek. “Will you just let me say what I want to say?”
I huff out a sigh and cross my arms. “Fine.”
After fishing in his jacket, he pulls out a small box. “Maeve Allegra Wilson,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“What are you doing, Pierce?” I whisper. Blood has stopped pumping through my body, leaving me cold and weightless. It’s a rhetorical question, since it’s obvious to anyone with half a brain what he’s doing.
Maybe this shouldn’t come as a surprise.
We’ve been together for eight months if you start counting from the moment we became official, longer if you count the months we spent sneaking around.
We’ve discussed the future in abstract terms. Yes, we both want to get married someday.
Yes, we eventually want kids. But we’ve never talked about a timeline.
Whenever I tried to pin down anything resembling a date, he would distract me by taking off his clothes, my clothes, or both.
I just assumed he wasn’t ready yet, will maybe never be ready. And in an effort to relinquish control, I’ve stopped bringing it up.
So to say this is unexpected is a gross understatement.
He reaches up and pulls my hands into his. Trust me, his eyes beg, and I have no choice but to obey. I’ve always been powerless against them.
“For years, I thought I didn’t want this.
Love and happily ever after. My parents got married out of convenience and what it would do for both of their careers.
I don’t think they’ve ever loved each other.
It worked for them. They don’t fight, and they’ve been incredibly successful through their alliance. But I don’t think they’re happy.”
A lump grows in my throat as I stare down at the man I love more than I love the oxygen filling my lungs. He swore he’d never get on his knees for me again.
“Everywhere I looked, I just saw love making people weak. Until you. You shattered all of those ideas. You came in like a fucking hellcat and showed me what I’ve been missing.”
I gulp out a teary laugh and wipe my nose with my sleeve. Damn this man for making me cry and preventing me from kissing him right now.
“I’ve never been more grateful for anything,” Pierce continues.
“Loving you hasn’t made me weak at all. It’s turned me into a stronger version of myself than I even knew existed.
” He clears his throat and shifts on his knee.
“Will you marry me and spend the rest of your life making me both the happiest and most frustrated man alive? Will you fight with me until we’re old enough to throw our dentures at each other? ”
My jaw hangs slack. “I have perfect teeth, thank you very much.”
He grins and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “You do. Now answer the question.”
“Not until I see the ring.”
Pierce rolls his eyes but dutifully opens the velvet box from Harry Winston.
Inside is an Asscher-cut solitaire on a pavé diamond-studded gold band.
I gasp, because even in the dark, I can see that it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever laid eyes on, and believe me when I say I’ve seen a lot of rings.
He smirks at my reaction. “Will this do?”
“Are you kidding me? Put it on.” I hold out my hand to him.
Instead of taking it, he stands up, making the basket sway. “Not until you say yes.” He leans down and brushes his lips over my forehead. “You’re already mine, but promise you’ll stay that way for all eternity.”
“Don’t be an imbecile,” I say. “Of course I will.”
Leaning back, he snags my gaze with his. “You’ll marry me?”
I soak up all the love and warmth radiating from his eyes, let it seep into my bones, reassuring me that I’ve found someone who accepts me, flaws and all, and won’t ever send me away because I’m not enough. “Yes. I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you more than once if I get presents every time.”
He huffs out a laugh as he tucks me into his arms for the rest of his life. “I can think of a few other ways you can earn more presents.”