“So—is it a deal?” Stefan asked.
I looked at the box, and then at him.
This wasn’t what I’d wanted out of my life. I’d planned to get out from under my father’s thumb, not let myself be trapped even tighter beneath it. I had dreamed of being rescued—but I wanted to rescue myself. Maybe I still could.
“It’s a deal,” I said.
With a smile, he took out the ring and slid it onto my finger. It was heavier than I expected, the stone spanning the width of my finger. But it felt good. It felt…secure.
“The first thing you should know if you’re going to be my wife,” he said, his voice dropping low as he leaned toward me, “is that I take what I want.”
Before I could respond, he cupped my face in his hands and drew my mouth to his. The moment our lips touched, everything else seemed to fade away.
I gave myself up to him completely, following his lead as he deepened the kiss, coaxing my mouth open, stroking his tongue slowly against mine until I could barely stand.
His hands dropped to steady my waist, holding me tight against him, and I moaned softly. The kiss was electric. I could practically feel sparks bursting between us, and my insides had gone loose and liquid. None of the furtive kisses I’d shared with boys over the years could hold a candle to this. Because Stefan was a man. A man who knew how to kiss.
I never wanted it to end, but finally it did.
My heart was pounding as he released me, stepping back, his defenses up again. I couldn’t read the guarded expression in his eyes.
“We should return to the party,” he said, taking my hand—the one now flashing an enormous diamond—and tucking it around his bicep. His firm, muscular bicep.
It wasn’t the birthday present I had been wishing for, but maybe it was better.
As we turned to go back inside, I noticed my father. He was standing near the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, right within view of Stefan and me. And he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was the man I had seen Stefan speaking to earlier. The man I’d assumed was his father. Had they seen the whole thing?
My stomach knotted as I glanced over at my new fiancé. He was looking straight ahead. How much of that had really been for me?
And how much of it had been a performance?
