Chapter 21
Brody
"This is too much." She squirms around in her chair.
"Nothing’s too much for my wife-to-be." I put an arm around her shoulders.
She darts a look at the man behind the counter of the most prestigious jeweler in the city. The Davenports invested in this business when they first started out a hundred years ago. It took only one call for the current CEO to arrange for a private viewing at their St. James’ showroom.
Of course, it’s because we have company that I'm coming across as all possessive. Never too early to start the pretense.
Which is why I agreed to the ring right away.
It has nothing to do with wanting to be sure she doesn’t confuse our arrangement with the engagement she had with that turd ex-fiancé of hers.
"And now, for the pièce de résistance." The salesperson behind the counter pulls out a key and, with great ceremony, unlocks a cabinet under the glass case. He pulls out a black velvet tray and places it on the countertop.
Nestled among the folds of velvet is a vintage Art Deco ring in rose gold. In the center sits a breathtaking emerald.
It’s rich, vivid, and so dark, it borders on dangerous. The stone catches the light like a secret being revealed. It glows. Bold. Uncompromising. Impossible to ignore.
It's framed by slender diamond baguettes that only make the green blaze brighter, like a forest on fire at dusk. Like the sparks in her eyes.
The band is understated, but impossibly elegant, with filigree so fine it looks like spun lace. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t scream. It commands.
Lark freezes. Her lips part, her gaze riveted by the ring.
And I’m riveted by her. I can’t breathe. Can’t say a word. I am captured by the hushed surprise, delight, and awe in her eyes.
This isn’t a ring. This is a reckoning. Something powerful. Unexpected. Unapologetically her.
She reaches out, fingers trembling slightly. “That’s…”
“Yours.” I pick up the ring and hold out my other hand.
She stares at the ring, and when she slowly places her palm in mine, her fingers tremble. I slip the ring onto her left ring finger.
"Perfect!" The salesperson claps his hands.
"She is." I’m barely aware I’ve said the words aloud.
Lark jerks her chin up. Whatever she sees on my face makes her flush. She pulls her hand from mine.
"I can’t accept this." She tries to take off the ring which, thankfully, refuses to slip off.
I place my hand over both of hers. "It’s yours."
"But… But… It’s so expensive."
"It’s what you deserve."
She opens her mouth to protest again, but I cut in. "We need to do this right to convince my grandfather, my family, and yours. You’re engaged to a Davenport. You’re expected to have a ring that reflects the union."
"Right." She subsides a little.
"Besides, it looks perfect on you." I take in the ring on her finger, and the possessiveness I felt earlier multiplies. Woven in with it is satisfaction. That I can proclaim to the world she’s mine. All unfamiliar. Which also feels, weirdly, right. Was it always about the woman? Is it the fact that it’s her I’m marrying that makes it different?
She blushes harder. "Thanks." She lowers her head, so her hair falls over her face. I let her hide her expression from me, for now.
I nod at the salesperson, who seems delighted. No doubt, it’s the biggest sale he’s made this year. "Congratulations, Mr. Davenport and Ms. Monroe. I hope you will be very happy."
She rises to her feet. "Thank you for your kind wishes." She slips out from behind the chair.
I take her arm and lead her out.
The bill will be debited to my account directly. Nothing so crass as paying with my credit card here.
When we reach the door, I hold it open. Then I wave off the valet and pull open the passenger door to my car. Shutting it after her, I round the front and slip into the driver’s seat.
I ease the car onto the road. We drive in silence for a while. When I take the turn off from the main road, she frowns. "You know the way to my home?"
"You did fill out your address on the HR forms."
"And you remember what it is?"
I keep my tone casual. “I have a good memory.”
And I made sure to read her HR form thoroughly, greedy for any detail it afforded about her.
Silence falls between us. I glance sideways to find a thoughtful expression on her features.
We pull up in front of the building which houses her flat. I’m out of the car and opening her door before she can.
"I can see myself inside." She slides out, then walks past me and up the path leading to the front door of the apartment block. It’s a quiet neighborhood. Firmly middle class. She keys in the code that lets her in the main door. And has security.
Which I approve of.
She turns, holding the door open with her hip. "I really can take it from here."
I read the determination on her features and decide not to push it. I take in her lips and want so badly to kiss her.
But if I do, I won't be able to leave her. And I need to give her a little time to come to terms with all the changes in her life.
I bend my head, kiss her on her cheek instead, then step back. “See you tomorrow at work?”