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“See for yourself,” I say, motioning to where Pirate sleeps half-covered under my duvet.
He goes over and strokes Pirate’s fur. “He’s grown a lot. He looks bigger than in the photos.”
Pirate meows, stretches, and curls into a ball again.
“It’s been a year,” I say. “He’s an adult now.”
He sits down at the foot of the bed and pats the space next to him. “Come here.”
I don’t hesitate. Now that the initial sensations and the shock of seeing him are over, I’m more at ease. The moment is stolen. I have to make the most of it.
I flop down next to him. “How long are you staying?”
“I’m flying back tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” I say, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice. “It’s very far to come for just one day.”
“No,” he muses, studying me. “For you, even a minute is worth coming across half the world.”
The compliment warms me inside. “Did you fly to Cape Town again?”
“To George this time.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At the golf estate.”
I look at him sideways, considering how to phrase this. “I can skip summer school tomorrow.”
“No.” His voice is harsh. “You will do no such thing.”
I wince, feeling embarrassed for suggesting it.
He continues in a softer tone. “I have to see your father about business tomorrow. I won’t have much free time.”
“He knows you’re here?” I exclaim. “In town, I mean?”
“No.” He grins. “It’s better that I surprise him. I’m not his favorite person.”
I frown. “Why is that? I don’t understand why he feels so strongly about us not seeing each other if he’s working with you.”
His face remains serious even as he says in a playful way, “He doesn’t want me to take his princess away.”
I slap his arm. “He’s not like that.”
He raises a brow. “Isn’t he?”
“No.” I laugh, taking care to keep my voice down. “He’s strict, especially when it comes to letting me go out, but he’s not one of those fathers who keeps a shotgun in case someone shows an interest in his daughter.”
In a flash, his eyes darken. “He should.”
“He didn’t with Mattie when Jared started dating her.”
“With you, it’s different.”
“Different how?”
He lifts his hand to my face but drops it before touching me. “You’re mine.”
The words are spoken with so much conviction, they leave me speechless. Will I ever get used to his intensity?
Wiggling a gold signet ring from his finger, he says, “Give me your hand.”
“What are you doing?”
“Give me your hand, Sabella.”
The way in which he says my name prompts me to action. His uncompromising tone demands obedience. A part of me likes it. I like that he’s strong, that he’s not scared to take control. He grips my right hand and pushes the ring over my thumb. It’s too big to fit on any of my other fingers.
“It’s yours,” he says, rubbing a fingertip over the embossed crest.
“Angelo,” I exclaim. “This looks like a family ring.”
“It’s our emblem.” He motions at the intertwined wolves. “Every firstborn son in our family gets one when he turns eighteen.”
I gasp. “You can’t give this away. It obviously has special meaning.”
He wraps his hand around mine, squeezing the ring between us. “It’ll keep you safe. Everyone in my country knows what it means.”
I’m here, not in his country, and I don’t need to be kept safe, but I assume it’s some kind of superstitious symbol like a lucky charm that keeps harm away.
The notion is sweet, but it’s a family heirloom. “I can’t keep it. It’s too valuable.”
“Keep it for me.” Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses the ring. “Promise me you’ll wear it until the day I replace it with another.”
My throat goes dry. I must be misinterpreting his words, but he doesn’t give me time to ponder their meaning. He takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes, and then he stretches out on my bed, pulling me down with him. We’re pressed together on one side of the queen-sized mattress because Pirate takes up my side.
“Can I stay for a while?” he asks, rubbing a lock of my hair between his fingers.
“Of course.” I lay my head on his chest where I can hear his heart beat. “Even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t let you go, not if I only get to see you for a few hours.”
Wrapping one arm loosely around me, he hugs me closer. “I’ll never miss a single one of your birthdays.”
I want to ask if that means I’ll only see him once a year, but I don’t want to spoil the moment. Surely, if he’s meeting my father about business, there’s a chance he’ll travel to George more often.
I don’t know for how long we’re lying there in an amiable silence in the dark, simply enjoying each other’s presence while Angelo runs his fingers over my arm, but at some stage, I must’ve dozed off, because when I wake up, he’s gone.
