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“I don’t want to do this. What if we just do it like this.” I slid the ring box across the table until it hit her fingertips. “Open it.”
The incredible thing about Imogen was that she always understood me, without my having to explain. She looked at the box, then looked to me.
“Thank you,” she mouthed without touching the box.
I reached over and opened the box to expose the ten-carat diamond. I heard her intake of breath. Then, at the same time, we both started laughing.
“Allow me?” I said, taking the ring from the box and slipping it on her finger. “I know it’s very large, but it’s true Asher Hawthorne style.”
She raised her hand to her face for a better look. I watched her frown slightly then the smile was back.
“It’s pretty, but now what do we do? We didn’t do the big spectacle show.” Imogen asked, still admiring the ring.
“Just pretty?”
“It’s very pretty. It’s not my style but that’s ok. I like it,” she said.
“Wait here.” I pushed my chair back and walked over to the orchestra leader.
The music began before I got back to the table. I bowed and invited Imogen to join me. She accepted and I pulled her into my arms. We spun around the floor until she stopped and covered her face with her hands, crying.
“Imogen, what’s the matter?” I asked, worried.
“You had them play Frank Sinatra. I’ll always remember this moment.” She put her arms around my neck and we danced around the floor.
I whispered in her ear to keep showing off the ring to the tables. It felt so good to hold her in my arms. I didn’t want it to stop. But the song ended and the orchestra leader announced our engagement, to cheers all around. Imogen buried her face in my neck. The orchestra played a slow song and we swayed in time with the music, getting lost in the moment. When the music ended, the room broke out into silverware clanking against glass. I had to ham it up at this point, as Asher would. I dipped her back, and when I pulled her back up I kissed her for all to see.
Chapter 47
IMOGEN
My lips were still tingling from him kissing me. As expected, the paparazzi were waiting outside. Gunner had the limo up front. He was obviously used to this because he kept his head low, while I waved to the crowd.
“Asher, can you pose for a picture with your fiancée?” one paparazzo yelled out.
“No, not tonight guys, give us some privacy. It’s a special night,” he answered, covering his face and mine with his arm. “We gotta go now.”
“Let’s see the ring.”
“What’s her name?”
“Where have you been hiding her?”
Gunner jumped out of the limo to hold the door open and shield us from the cameras.
“I thought you’d love all that attention, being the scandalous playboy and all,” I teased, looking back to all the cameras flashing. “Where do we go now?”
“Good question, I think we should hit some tourist areas,” he said, thoughtfully pulling his cell from his coat pocket and tapping away, texting someone.
“The Eiffel Tower is great at night, all lit up,” Gunner offered.
“Oh yes that’s a good idea,” I said, almost bouncing on the seat. “It’s very romantic and tonight is our engagement, after all.”
“Thanks Gunner. If we don’t go right now, she might bounce out of the sunroof,” he said, taking my hand in his.
Gunner turned the car in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. Asher seemed very distracted, so I left him alone to his thoughts. Absently, I reached over and placed my hand on his. No words were exchanged, just an easy companionship for the drive.
“You really shouldn’t waffle on so much,” I said without looking at him. “You’re such a yabber. It’s exhausting.”
