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Now though?
It’s about much more than our parents. If they had nothing to do with this situation, I would still want her. There’s no doubt in my mind. She’s my fiancée. She’s my future.
“I want this, Mother.”
She nods, resigning herself. “Good. I wouldn’t want Siena to get hurt. I’ll help you. I love you, Maxim. Your father won’t take this well, but I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” I grin huge and she smiles back, shaking her head.
“Gods, when did you grow up? I remember when you were a child and you used to run around the room with your pants off screaming ‘nakey boy, nakey boy,’ like you were so proud of showing off your—”
“Mother,” I say, shaking my head.
She laughs lightly. “But here you are, talking about marriage. Time moves so fast, my son. Don’t forget that. Cherish your wife while you have her close. Cherish all that you have.”
“I will.”
“Good. Now, come give your mother a kiss on the cheek.”
I stand and stoop. I kiss her cheek, but she catches my wrist and holds me there.
“Don’t get yourself killed, Maxim,” she says quietly.
I pull back and nod. “Give me two days. I need to get a ring before I can propose.”
“Good boy. Make sure you get her a nice one. She deserves it.”
“I’ll get the best I can afford.”
“Fortunately for her, that’s very good indeed.”
I laugh and sit back down. We finish our tea, but the whole time I’m thinking of Siena—her mouth, her laughter, her body pressed against mine.
And my ring on her finger.
Chapter22
Maxim
While Siena’s in the shower, I sit on the bed and open the small black box draped in plush velvet.
I don’t know a damn thing about marriage and weddings and engagements. I always assumed I’d get married at the end of a loaded gun—which is sort of happening here, except I actually want this. I brought Emiliya with me to pick something out and made her swear on her life not to tell. (“I’m not stupid, Maxim, I know Father’s going to shoot you in the face for this, and anyway I wouldn’t ruin the surprise.”) Somehow, we landed on the perfect ring. Big diamond, lots of little diamonds, some gold—god, I don’t know what to call any of this stuff—and it cost a small fortune.
Emmie promises Siena will love it, and I trust her. The ring’s shiny and nice as far as I can tell.
I shove it into my sock drawer. Not the cleverest of hiding places, but I only need to keep it there for another day. Mother said she’d talk to Father tomorrow morning, and then I’ll propose once it’s settled.
Assuming Father doesn’t cut my throat and bleed me like a pig.
Siena comes out of the shower. She’s wrapped in a towel and her hair’s dripping wet, and she looks perfect. I stare at her and she smiles as she rifles through one of the drawers I gave her, looking for something to wear. “What are you staring at, you big weirdo? You’re smiling like you’ve never seen me before.”
“That’s exactly right,” I say, standing. I go over to her and pin her back against the wall. I kiss her, slow and deep, and I wonder—is this what being happy feels like? Because I’ve never felt this way before, not once in my life.
I feel good. Like a warmth is spreading through my hands and toes. I feel content and complete. Like I don’t need to prove myself anymore.
“Easy, tiger,” she says, pushing me away with a laugh. “As much as I’d like to get ravished right now, I’m a bit sore from earlier and we have dinner in a half hour. So get it together, big guy.”
“Can’t help myself when you walk around dripping wet like that.”
