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“You said you wanted spectacular. And so I have determined that I won’t disappoint you.” His dark eyes seemed to glow with black fire. She wondered how she had ever thought them cold. Now she felt the heat in them like a living flame inside her chest.
He moved to one of the end tables and opened the first box. Inside was a ring, ornate, laden with jewels that glittered in the firelight. And she would never be able to see firelight without thinking of his skin. Without thinking of his strong body searching inside of her. It was impossible.
She blushed, focusing on the jewel. Then, those large, capable hands moved to the next box. He opened it, revealing a ring filled with emeralds. The next, champagne diamonds. Citrine, rubies, every gem in every cut and color was revealed.
“There are the rings,” he said.
“I...”
“Would you like me to choose for you?”
At first, she bucked against the idea. But what did it matter? Their marriage wasn’t going to be a real one anyway. So what did it matter what she wore.
The idea made her eyes feel dry, made her throat feel raw. Because something about this felt real to her. More real than the diamonds that were laid before her. More real than the stones around them. This entire palace was made of gems; why she should be surprised and awed at the splendor laid before her she didn’t know. But they were not real. Not in the way that the conviction and need that burned in her heart was.
This man was.
A man. Not a mountain. Not a beast. No matter how much he might want to believe that he was either of the latter.
The ring didn’t matter, on that level. But it would matter what he chose for her. In the same way that it mattered the first night they had been together that she had known that he would be in the library. Known that he would be holding that book. Known that whatever he said, he was seeking a connection between the two of them. To deepen it. Because it was real. It was there.
She had spent her life seeking connections. Using connections. She had spent her life trying to show her father that she was worthy. That she was just as good as her brother, Maximus. Just as charming and delightful as her sister, Minerva.
But with Javier it was just there.
Whether they wanted it to be or not. And she had to cling to the fact that something in that was real.
“You can choose,” she said.
“Very well.”
It was the ruby that he picked up between his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t even have to pause to think. With his dark eyes glowing with a black flame, he took her hand in his and he slipped that ring onto her finger.
“Mine,” he said.
“Mine,” she returned, curling her fingers around his. “If I am yours, then you must be mine.”
There was something stark and shocked on his face as she said those words. “I’m a modern woman,” she returned. “I believe in equality. If you expect that you will own my body, then I will own yours.”
He inclined his head slowly. “As you wish.”
“I like it,” she said, looking down at the gem.
“Good. Because there is more.”
He went to the coffee table, where wider, flatter jewelry boxes were set. He opened first one, then another. Necklaces. Spectacular and glittering with an intensity that mocked the fire.
There was one made of rubies, one that matched the ring. He pulled it out, held it aloft. All of her words were stolen from her. Lost completely in the moment.
And for her, it wasn’t about the value of the gems, but about the care of the selection. About the fact that he knew what he wanted to see her wear. That he had chosen them for her. The necklace settled heavily across her breastbone, and he clasped it gently behind her neck.
The metal was cold against her skin and felt erotic somehow. She shivered. Of course, agreeing to be his wife meant more of this. This touching. This need.
This need satisfied and sated when they needed it.
He looked up at her, slid his thumb along her lower lip. And she shivered.
“Last time I had you here you belonged to him.”
