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She was suddenly a lot more interested and he could hear what sounded like the clatter of heels, the bar sounds subsiding. “What kind of ring?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just make sure it is done, and that I don’t get ripped off too badly. I expect some bleeding, just don’t want to hemorrhage.”

“I’m going to skip the interrogation for just a minute, but don’t think it’s not coming. Okay, so you want me to breathe down their necks and make sure that they give me the ring, and then you want me to bring it to you at Cypress before ten.”

“No. I don’t want you bringing it. Have them bring it. Just make sure they leave the store, with the ring in hand, in time for me to receive it. Text me when they leave. I won’t be able to talk to you tonight, so I want to answer any questions you have now, so you can handle it all for me later. Do you have any questions?”

“I’m going to have to wait until I get to the jeweler to see if I have questions for you on that end. If you want me to properly do my job and help you, I’m going to need more information.”

“It’s an engagement ring. I’ve picked out the stone, and sketched out the design. The only questions they may have will be regarding the smaller stones. Just get the best of everything. I don’t want an engraving or anything like that.” He stopped talking and waited.

Her reaction was quieter than he expected, and a little confused. “Why are you designing an engagement ring? Is this for your brother?”

“No.”

“It’s for you?” Her voice was indignant and disbelieving.

“Yes.”

“I’m confused...” she said slowly.

“It’s for Julia.”

“Broward’s intern? You’re proposing to Broward’s intern. The girl you just started seeing. The one who refused to fill out the questionnaire.” She enunciated every word, drawing the sentence out slowly, idiotically.

“Yes. Any other questions that pertain to your completion of those tasks?”

“How many people in your Cypress reservation?”

“Two.”

“Have you told your father about this?”

“I’m not going to dignify that question with a response.”

“Are you out of your f**king mind? This is so far out of De Luca–ville that I don’t even know how to respond. You have rendered me f**king speechless.”

“Well, that is a first. Thank you for your help. Text me if you have any dire emergencies.”

“Don’t you hang up on me, Brad. We are not even half through—”

He hung up the phone as gently as he could, given it was a cell, and set it on the seat, his home coming into view. Pulling into the drive, he parked in front of the garage, got out and shut the door, turning to face his house, the exterior lights illuminating the large trees in his yard. Inside, various interior lights were on. It felt good, coming home to someone. He had appreciated his freedom for so long, embraced it with a passion almost desperate. It would take a while to fully release that, to get used to not doing whatever he wanted. But while he had once yearned for independence, now he saw the possibility of something different, and he wanted it badly. Marrying her felt right and he was an impulsive but decisive decision-maker. Plus, it would protect her. The one golden rule was that children and wives were untouchable. His family would have no choice. As his wife she would be guarded, part of the inner circle. He strode up the driveway and headed for the back door.

Forty-Seven

It was almost six when I heard sounds downstairs. I wore one of Brad’s T-shirts and had my hair pinned up, putting on mascara. I stopped, listening, then walked to the landing. “Brad?”

“Yeah. I’m coming up.”

Happiness flooded through me. I trotted down the stairs, meeting him halfway, a hand-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A huge smile broke out on my face at the sight of him, and I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him firmly, trying to keep the mascara stick away from his shirt. “Hey, baby,” I said.

“Hey, beautiful. These are for you.”

“They are gorgeous! Thank you.” I kissed his neck, then bounded up the stairs, screwing the mascara closed, meeting him at the top step. I took the bouquet from him and sank my face into them, inhaling the sweet fragrance.

“There are vases downstairs, I’m not sure where, but Martha uses them a lot.”

“I’ll find one. Come into the bathroom. You can talk to me while I put on makeup.”

He followed me into the master bath, stopping when he saw the mess of bubbles I had halfway cleaned up. I had hoped that most of them would evaporate, but that plan hadn’t worked out too well for me. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

“Sorry. Your bathtub attacked me with bubbles. I’ll clean it up later. You should probably know, I’m not very...tidy.”

“I could have guessed that.”

I raised my eyebrows at that, but turned back to the mirror, finishing up my mascara.

“You look beautiful.” His voice was soft, and I turned, facing him, studying his eyes. They were, as always, dark and unreadable, watchful, intelligent. I smiled tentatively at him and he stepped forward quickly, his hand stealing around to cup my neck, his eyes on my face. He kissed me, hard and possessive, then softer. My mouth opened and his kiss deepened. He released me and we parted. He grinned, his eyes on my mouth, and then on my eyes.

I turned back to the mirror and fished through the makeup bag, found the earrings I had worn the night of the party and started to put them on.

“Wait,” he said, reaching a hand out and stopping me. He walked into the closet, making noise for a few minutes, then returned, carrying a black velvet box. “Wear these.”

I took the box gingerly—it was old and worn on the edges. Larger than a ring box. I opened the lid, revealing a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. Each earring had a large round diamond, with an oval sapphire dangling beneath it, surrounded by tiny diamonds. They were beautiful. I studied them, wondering about them, and looked up at Brad.

“They were my mother’s. The first, and only, piece of jewelry I ever bought her. My sister has all of her other pieces. It’s not a gift, just a loan.”

An unnecessary statement, but I understood him making it.

“I thought— I didn’t realize your mother had passed. When you said that you hadn’t spoken to her...” My words trailed off and I looked up, seeing the pain in his eyes.


Tags: Alessandra Torre Innocence Romance