Page List


Font:  

Sometimes, you had to let a man think he won, even if he was playing right into your hands. The truth is, when the two of us are together, we both win the grand prize.

Every single time.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Vincent

I squinted, peering at the black velvet tray in front of me. Then I shook my head. The man wasn’t listening to me. He wasn’t hearing what I was saying.

“Too gaudy. More classic.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Margarelli,” the jeweler said solicitously. The man was looking a little green around the gills. He didn’t want to piss me off. I wasn’t going to cut off his fingers one by one with a bolt cutter if he displeased me, but he didn’t know that.

I was inclined to tell him his fingers were safe, but I was distracted by choosing the perfect ring for Frankie. And I was enjoying the stereotypical scene out of a mob film. Being the boss really did have its advantages now and then.

Even with all the added pressure. And danger. And conflicts with the woman I adored.

“How about something like this?” the jeweler asked, bringing a tray full of plain bands with smaller stones. It seemed like there were a million styles of engagement ring. But so far, none of them had been exactly right.

“Too plain. She’s got more sparkle than that in one finger,” I countered. “One fingernail.”

“That she does,” Michael said, slapping me on my back. “I’ll never settle down, but if one must, a woman with that much verve is the only way to do it.”

He chuckled.

“She will keep you on your toes until you’re a hundred,” he chortled gleefully. I glared at him. I hoped he got bitten by the love bug someday. I prayed he got bitten hard.

“Your time will come,” I said darkly. I meant it as a curse. And he knew it. Michael paled and went back to looking at the rings.

“What about that one?” he asked, pointing to a ring that honestly looked exactly right.

“Ah, an excellent choice,” the jeweler said, suddenly losing his nerves. He really cared about his job, I realized. The man had a real passion for the gems and jewelry he peddled. He had been a good choice. In fact, as he brought the tray up from under the glass, he sounded almost reverent. “This one is special. It’s the most expensive thing in the entire store,” he added.

“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured, leaning to take a closer look. Michael had been right. It was absolutely perfect.

“Of course. We have here an emerald-cut, four-carat diamond of the highest clarity. It is flanked by two half-carat baguette-cut diamonds, also with exceptional clarity. It is all set in the highest-quality platinum. For the woman who truly has everything else!” he proclaimed, holding it out for me to see.

“I’ll take it.”

“I haven’t told you the price,” he protested, looking worried.

“I’m sure you won’t cheat me,” I said meaningfully.

“Of course not,” he stammered, looking terrified again.

“I’ll pay what it is worth, plus your base markup,” I said, not wanting the man to stiff himself, either. “Give me the friends and family price. I want to pay for this,” I added just to be absolutely clear that I wasn’t asking for a payout for protection. We still did that, and he was already part of our rounds, but something like this was too much. And I wanted this transaction to be clean.

I wanted the ring to be as pure as the love I had for my beautiful Francesca.

He nodded in surprise. But he understood me. To say he looked relieved would have been an understatement.

We picked out a matching wedding band with similar baguette stones along the top and a plain platinum wedding band for me. All of this planning was assuming she would say yes, naturally. She might not. Francesca was unpredictable at best. As much as I enjoyed her fire, it made life a little uncertain.

But losing her was not an option. Her not being my wife, and soon, was definitely not an option. It was not a prospect I wanted to dwell on. I left Michael to make arrangements for the ring to be paid for by wire transfer, sized, and delivered under guard.

The sky was blue with a spattering of white, fluffy clouds. The air coming off the bay was fresh and clean, with a hint of brine. It was a beautiful, glorious day. The temperature outside was perfection. Not too hot. Not too cold. The perfect day for a stroll, I decided.

None of these things would have even taken my notice a few short months ago. Francesca had changed me that much. She had opened my eyes, quite literally. Loving her made me appreciate everything, down to the smallest thing. I saw the world around me, and my place in it, in a new, beautiful, and profound way.


Tags: Joanna Blake The Margarelli Brothers Romance