Chapter 34 Nuala #2
“Is everything all right?” Siobhan’s voice is clipped, and we smile at each other.
“Perfect,” Logan calls back, not taking his eyes off me. “We’ll take everything.”
“Everything, sir?”
“Every single item you brought us. And the shoes.” His hand finds the small of my back as he whips the curtain aside.
Siobhan’s lips are pursed, her expression pinched. If I wasn’t certain before that she heard us, I am now. I give her a lofty look, feeling invincible.
“One more thing,” Logan says, leading me to a display cabinet of jewelry. He leans down and points to a diamond bracelet. “We’ll take that as well.”
“Of course,” Siobhan says and unlocks the cabinet, pulling out the bracelet.
Logan takes it from her and grasps my hand, raising my wrist so he can clasp it on. “Remove the tag,” Logan murmurs to Siobhan, keeping his eyes on me.
I feel Siobhan’s cool hand turn my wrist, and the sound of a small pair of scissors clipping the tag off. I don’t look. I don’t want to know.
“And we’ll take that as well,” Logan says, tapping on the counter, even though his eyes are still on mine. They’ve gone darker with a wicked glint.
Siobhan makes a choked sound. “Are you sure?”
“Did I speak Russian?” he asks casually.
“No, sir,” she murmurs and pulls something else out.
Expecting a pair of earrings or a watch, I freeze in place as Logan lifts my left hand and slides a ring onto my ring finger.
My gaze drops instantly, and I stifle the gasp of horror.
It’s not just any ring. It’s a fucking engagement ring. A massive diamond solitaire that catches the boutique lights and throws rainbows across my knuckles.
My mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air. I can’t form words. Can’t breathe. Can’t think past the weight of this thing on my finger and what it means.
“Logan.” His name comes out strangled.
“Perfect fit,” he says calmly, like he didn’t just put a ring that will have an excessive amount of zeroes attached to the price tag on my finger. Without warning. Without anything resembling a proposal.
I stare down at my hand, watching the diamond catch the light. It’s beautiful. Stunning. Completely and utterly inappropriate.
“I can’t—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You can. You will.” His voice carries that edge of command that makes my knees weak, even when I want to strangle him. “You’re an O’Neill.”
Siobhan hovers nearby, practically vibrating with excitement over what must be the largest commission of her career. I want to rip the ring off and throw it at Logan’s head. I also want to stare at it for the next hour because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“You need your head checked,” I mutter, flexing my fingers and watching the diamond move.
“Is that a yes?”
I stare at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. The diamond feels impossibly heavy on my finger, like it’s anchoring me to something I’m not sure I’m ready for.
“Is that a yes to what, exactly?” I whisper. “Because I don’t recall you asking me a question.”
His smile is wicked, dangerous. “You’re right. I didn’t ask.”
“Logan—”
“I told you. You’re mine, Nuala. An O’Neill. This makes it official.”
My breath catches. “You can’t just decide we’re engaged without asking me,” I hiss, acutely aware that Siobhan is hanging on every word.
“Can’t I?” His thumb brushes over the diamond, sending heat racing up my arm. “Because it seems like I just did.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the words die in my throat.
Because looking at this ring, feeling the weight of it, I realize something terrifying: I don’t want to take it off.
I don’t want to give it back. I want to wear his claim on me for the world to see.
It’s the proof that someone wants to keep me forever.
“For what it’s worth, it’s a yes,” I whisper, and watch his face transform with something that looks dangerously close to relief, but he would never admit it.
“Good girl.” He presses a kiss to my temple, his voice soft against my ear.
I watch in stunned silence as he hands over a shiny black card without even asking for a total. Siobhan’s hands shake slightly as she processes the transaction.
The bags are carried out to the car as we leave the boutique, my new heels clicking against the sidewalk with each step.
“Regrets?” Logan asks, reading something in my expression.
I look down at the diamond, then back at his face. “Ask me tomorrow.”
His laugh is dark, pleased. “Fair enough.”
The SUV feels warm after the bite of winter air. Logan starts the engine, but doesn’t pull away from the curb immediately. Instead, he reaches over and takes my left hand, his thumb brushing over the ring. “This is crazy, but I feel like you are the reason, Nuala.”
“Reason for what?”
“For everything.” His eyes meet mine, showing me that vulnerability again, which makes my breath catch.
“For me, leaving the priesthood, mostly. I thought it was because God abandoned me when he let Chris die, but it wasn’t that.
Chris…” He presses his lips together as the painful memory hits him hard.
“Chris was terminally ill. There was nothing they could do for her. She was going to die regardless of what I had to say about it. She had accepted it. She was ready. She was… happy that she could be at peace with the God she loved. But it was part of a bigger plan. You. You needed me. You needed me to be a man for you, Nuala, not a priest. You are the reason.”
I stare at him, my chest tight with emotion I don’t know how to name. His words hit something deep inside me, cracking open walls I’d built too high.
“Logan,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.
“I know it sounds like I’m placing all of this responsibility on you, but it’s not that. I know we barely know each other. But from the moment I saw you in that bar, something clicked into place. Like everything that came before was just preparing me for you. To be the man you needed me to be.”
I squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. The diamond catches the light streaming through the windshield, and I can’t help but think about how different my life was just days ago. Cold. Hungry. Alone.
“I was drowning before you,” I admit quietly. “I didn’t even realize it, but I was. Every day was just about surviving until the next one.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel like I’m finally living. I don’t want to let that go. I don’t want to lose it.” The fear comes through my tone. Even I can hear it, and I hate it, but I can’t stop it.
His smile transforms his entire face, softening the hard edges that make him so dangerous. “You will never lose me, Nuala. I will never let you go.”
I shiver at his words. It’s a cage built to keep me, possess me. But I don’t fucking care. I want it. I want him.