Page 154 of Gilt

“This has nothing to do with that. That’s our past. I’m focused on our future, Duchess.”

“Does our future have to include the words ‘till death do us part’?”

“Not if you don’t want it to,” he says fiercely. He snaps the box shut.

Crap. What have I gotten myself into this time? I grab it from his hands before he can shove it back into his pocket or toss it into the pond. There’s no telling what he’ll do.

Thinking quickly, I come up with a much more reasonable response. “I need to think about it.”

The scowl darkening his face lightens.

“That’s not a yes,” I remind him.

“It’s not a no, either,” he says, interpreting my non-answer in his favor.

He leans closer, nuzzling my neck until I’m practically putty in his hands. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you?”

“Yes,” I say, shoving him away. “Let me think about it. Also, maybe let me take a nap.”

Between two lunches, a few broken hours of sleep, and the emotional whirlwind he’s just unleashed on me, being unconscious sounds pretty good. In fact, that my reaction to his proposal is to retreat or fall asleep should say a lot to him about my overall readiness for something as important as marriage. By agreeing to consider, though, I’ve rescued our weekend holiday.

Despite that, conversation is at an all-time low in the car. When we step back into the West New York’s lobby, I’m relieved to see Mr. White waiting for us. I’m not certain he’s ever moved.

Jameson lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it.

“Why don’t you get some rest,” he suggests. Before I can escape, he takes out the ring box that I’d given back to him in the car. He thrusts it into my hands. Apparently, we’re going to play hot potato with it. “To help you think.”

He winks before he turns to the over-eager White.

How can something so tiny feel so heavy? I wonder as I head up to the penthouse.

Maddox is waiting in the corridor. He unlocks the door for me, and I flush when his eyes linger on the ring in my hands.

So naturally I act like an adult and hide it behind my back.

“Did you have a good afternoon?” he asks. I don’t miss the insinuation in his voice.

“It was interesting.” I leave it at that, resisting the urge to treat him like a therapist and seek sanctuary in the suite instead. Heading straight for the bedroom, I deposit the box onto the dresser. But when I climb into the bed, it looks as if it’s hovering above me. Scrambling up, I grab the box and put it on the nightstand. Then I turn over and squeeze my eyes closed. It’s no use. I know it’s there.

I had been too caught up in the insanity of the moment to even check it out before.

“You promised to think about it,” I remind myself out loud. Rolling over, I pick the box up and open the lid. It’s a whole lot of flawless. I’d seen enough diamond rings pass through the Pawnography showcase to know this one is worth a small fortune. I try not to think about that fact. If I had been the type of girl who dressed up as a princess or cried during romantic comedies, I might have pictured what my own engagement ring would look like. The truth is that the thought has never crossed my mind.

Now I know it could only ever be this ring. The square diamond in the center sparkles with a fiery brilliance that even I can’t ignore. Smaller diamonds circle its edge and adorn the band.

I pluck it out of the box, and I’m surprised that something so sparkling and delicate could be so solid. I study it more closely and that’s when I notice the inscription: To my leap of faith.

“I’m not crying. You’re crying,” I announce to the empty room. Hesitantly, I hold it over the tip of my ring finger as I blink back the moisture pooling in my eyes. It’s too much change, too soon. But would it hurt to try it on?

Before I can decide, I hear Jameson enter the suite. Shoving the ring back in the box, I abandon it on the nightstand and nearly jump out of my skin when Jameson appears in the doorway.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Duchess.”

Too late, I think, glancing at the box on the table next to me.

“I thought you were going to take a nap.” His eyes stray to where his engagement ring sits unworn.

“I’m having a hard time turning my mind off.”