Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
He covers my hand with his and presses it to his chest. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, and we’ll go from there?”
It feels strange to stand here in the golden afternoon light and speak the truths I keep most hidden. If he were anyone else, I don’t think I would dare. “If I marry you, that’s it. We will vow ’til death do us part. No divorce. It doesn’t end until one of us is in the grave.”
“Da.” There’s not even a flicker of doubt on his face.
Strange how that was the easy part. Asking for what I personally want is so much more difficult. I lick my lips. “That primal scene . . .”
“Yeah.” He brushes a strand of my hair back from my face. “It made me wild to see you with other people, fucking murderous, but reclaiming you? Yeah, baby, it did it for me too.”
“If we play like that, you can’t actually murder people. Or not any more people.”
He cups my jaw and smears his thumb across my bottom lip. “I know.” He makes a face. “I suppose if we want more formal games, we request to attend Reaper’s club. I think you’d like it, and it’s only a short plane ride from Carver City.”
I glance around, but the foyer is just as empty as it was earlier. That doesn’t mean there aren’t eyes on us. My parents would never let me stand here with him without being close enough to save me if things went sour. I take a deep breath. “There’s no going back if we do this.”
“You keep saying that. There was no going back the moment I laid eyes on you. None of the other shit makes any difference. It’s you and me forever, baby.”
Gods help me, but I believe him. I carefully step back, and he tenses as if he will pull me to him, only to release me at the last moment. I wobble a little on my heels, more nervous than I expected. “In that case . . .” I sink slowly to my knees before him and pull the little box out of my pocket. “Casimir Romanov, we’ve had a relationship that you can hardly call traditional, but I’ve never met someone who sees me the way you do. Who loves me the way you do. I never will. You’re the only one I want. I know it won’t be easy, but with you at my side, I don’t think there’s an enemy who can stop us. Will you marry me?”
“You got me a ring.” For the first time, he actually sounds shocked. “You’re proposing.”
“Yeah. Though if you had made me wait much longer, I don’t know if I would have.”
He reaches down and hooks my elbows, then lifts me back to my feet. “Liar. There’s no one else for you.” He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a nearly identical ring box. “Just like there’s no one else for me.” Casimir opens it, and I swallow a gasp. The ring is gorgeous and looks old as fuck. “Give me your hand, baby.”
I stretch out my left hand—the first ring he gave me is still on my right—and he slides the ring onto my ring finger. I’m not even remotely surprised to find out it fits perfectly. As if he’d leave something as important as that to chance. “Now you,” I say.
“It’s not traditional for men to wear an engagement ring.” But he does as I ask and allows me to slip my ring onto his finger. Mine fits perfectly too. I didn’t live with this man for over a year to not know his ring size.
I slide my thumb over the cool metal and grip his hand. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s not traditional. You’re mine, and I want everyone to know it.”
“I’m not about to argue.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses me as if we’ve been separated for years instead of less than two weeks. The first touch of his lips ignites a spark that I’ve been doing my best to ignore. I tangle my fingers in his and press my body even tighter against him. If we weren’t standing in the middle of my family’s foyer . . .
But we are. Which means we can’t afford to forget ourselves.
I reluctantly break the kiss. “We’re not getting out of here without telling my parents our decision.” A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve said ‘fuck it’ and dragged him somewhere we could be alone. But my parents are right: it’s time for me to start acting like the heir that I am. Which means going about things the proper way.
Casimir pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wipes around my mouth, cleaning my lipstick as best he can. “Come home with me tonight.”