Page 163 of Liar Liar

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And I hither—I hither like a screw drawn to a magnet.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he begins, his mouth twisted in such a way that I feel like I’m waiting for the punchline. But he’s on his knees, right? In front of me. So, if this is a joke, he’d better be ready for a throwdown. When he takes my hand in his, I swear, I no longer need to breathe.

‘I tried to think of how I’d lived my life before you were part of it, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember how I filled my days and my nights without you. Then I knew. My days and nights going forward? I need you in them. Forever and always.’

I’m smiling so wide right now, my insides set to dance mode.

‘Then I started to wonder how I could do this. How I could ask you this question. Should I take you out on the yacht, then on to the speedboat to a secluded cove. Get a ring and put it in a fancy shell and drop to my knee on a beach. Or should I drop it in a glass of champagne. Or maybe I could propose as we jet to Bora Bora. So many thoughts revolving around my head. How does a man choose? How does he know the woman he loves will say yes?’

‘Well, usually, it starts with a question.’

‘And I’m getting to it.’ His teeth gleam as he presses them over my knuckle in a silent threat. ‘So, I couldn’t sleep, and I’d glanced at my wristwatch wondering how long I’d lain there. And I remembered.’

‘The only luxury in life is time.’

‘Because you can’t get it back,’ he adds, echoing his earlier words.

‘So, I kissed you and crept from the bed. I made a call. And visited a jeweller at five 0’clock this morning.’

‘You must’ve been very persuasive.’

‘Aren’t I always, Roísin Samira Ryan?’

The way he says my name. I melt! No one has ever made it sound so perfect. I find myself dashing away happy tears.

‘Don’t cry. At least let me ask you first.’ He pulls a ring from the pocket of his shirt, the diamond setting roughly the size of a quail egg. I’m exaggerating, but it is big. And sparkly. And oh-so beautiful. A platinum band with delicate filigree accents.

‘Do you like it?’ I nod as he twists the band between his forefinger and thumb, sunlight dancing across the stone’s facets. ‘I do, too. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one.’ Because there’s something rose-like about it he doesn’t have to say.

‘I love you more than I love my beautiful Chanel dress,’ I find myself whispering. ‘More than my Piaget watch. More than our gorgeous home, and more than the car sitting in the garage I’m not supposed to know about yet. Because they’re just things. Beautiful things, but I’ve lived without them before. You I love so much, Remy. It’s you I couldn’t live without. Now, please get to the point and ask me to marry you.’

And so he does.

* * *

‘It’s so beautiful!’ Fee tilts my hand to the light, marvelling at the ring on my finger.

‘Si belle,’ Charles agrees, albeit with a slight frown. ‘And you are not . . .’

‘Santa Claus?’ I ask as he makes a fat-ist gesture with his hand.

‘What?’ Fee asks, her head swinging to Charles.

‘He’s asking there’s going to be a shotgun wedding.’ My mouth twists. ‘What do you think, Charlie?’

‘I think nothing. I say nothing. I see nothing. I speak—’

‘Too much,’ Olga says, striding into the office. ‘So, you will be leaving us soon?’

‘Nope. Unless you know something I don’t.’

‘I only know a rich man will not want his wife running around after other rich men. Or women, for that matter. It is not done.’

‘Well, I’ll let you know when I’m a rich man’s wife. But for now, I’ll be at my desk, like always.’

I’d find it hard to describe the look she sends my way before her door slams.

‘She’s jealous,’ Fee whispers. ‘Charles told me she used to have a thing with Remy’s dad, Emile?’

‘Really?’ I’m not sure why I’m pulling a face. Pot, meet kettle much?

Charles glances up from his laptop and sort of shrugs. ‘I only know I saw her wis him once.’

‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, does it?’

‘It depends on what she was doing on ’er knees.’

I roll in my lips to keep myself from laughing.

‘That is so bad,’ Fee whispers, her gaze sliding to Olga’s office door. ‘Oh, bloody hell!’ she says, glancing at her watch. ‘I’m going to be late for my afternoon spin class. I just wanted to pop in and offer you my congratulations!’ she squeals a little again, throwing her arms around my shoulders and giving me one heck of a hug. ‘Let’s catch up soon, yeah? And you can tell me all about your wedding plans.’


Tags: Donna Alam Romance