Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Her lashes fluttered again, a sign he now recognized that meant she didn’t want to tell him something. He waited, pressing her hand to the heat of his thigh. She sighed and capitulated.
“I stayed in the background. It wasn’t that difficult. I work behind the scenes, and I didn’t want to be like everyone else. Watching you all, I could tell, even though you were all hiding it, the constant vying for your attention and fawning all over you when none of it was real was wearing on you.”
Abruptly he sat up. As far as he knew, no one had ever noticed that they were anything but enjoying themselves at their highly publicized appearances. They practiced their expressions, their smiles, their charm. It was extremely important to be believable, yet Grace had stayed away from them, not because she was intimidated, but because she felt bad for them.
“Also,” she continued hastily, as if she was afraid she’d hurt his feelings, “I didn’t want to be seen talking to anyone for reasons other than work, because of Haydon. If he gets a wrong idea in his head, it could be very bad for someone.”
“I like that you noticed it isn’t always easy for my family.” He did. He wanted her to be included in his family. “Just know that Eloisa is going to say very ugly things to you. So far, she has to Francesca, Mariko and Sasha. She says them to Emmanuelle all the time, and when she gets going, to the rest of us. It’s never easy dealing with her and it never will be, but when she comes around here, I’ll handle it. Most likely, after she’s had a run-in with me, she’ll come at you at work. If that’s the case—”
“Then I’ll handle it,” she said decisively.
He caught her chin, his smile genuine. Happy. Because that was how she made him feel. “Damn right you will.” And then he kissed her, savoring her taste. Savoring the fire that he could burn in. Most of all wrapping himself up in her acceptance of him. When he lifted his head, he pulled the small jewelry box from his pocket.
“I have a cousin in New York who makes jewelry. He has a gift for creating the perfect set of rings for each of us. He makes the rings without even knowing the women who will take us on.”
“Vittorio.”
He heard her nerves. The warning. Even fear. He brought her fingertips to his mouth when she tried to pull her hand away. “You promised you would consider what I was offering with an open mind. We’ve announced the engagement around the world, in every country we do business. It isn’t as if we can just say we made a mistake.”
“We could. We should.”
There was panic in her voice. Her breathing immediately was restricted, and he realized she was on the verge of a panic attack. She tried to tug her hand away a second time and he clamped down, shackling her wrist with his long fingers.
“Grace, look at me. Right now. Take a breath and look at me.” He poured authority into his voice.
Her green eyes flew to his. Clung, as if to an anchor. He watched as she took a deep breath and let it out. The panic receded enough that he nodded in approval.
“That’s good. Keep breathing. Are you saying no to me? Because I’m asking you to marry me. Officially. I want the engagement to be real.”
“There’s Haydon . . .” she said faintly, her voice pitched so low he could barely catch the thread of sound.
“He’s an excuse. Fuck him. What do you want? Tell me what you want, Grace. Do you want to at least give me a chance?”
She swallowed. Her gaze started to shift from his, but then she forced herself to keep looking into his eyes. Her nod was very slow in coming, but it was there. “Yes. If I could choose, then I’d want to choose you, but—”
“That’s all that matters. Haydon doesn’t dictate your life anymore, Grace.” He opened the box and waited again, his pulse accelerating in spite of his resolution to remain centered.
Her gaze clung to his and then it dropped to the box where the ring nestled. Damian Ferraro had created a masterpiece, a ring unlike any of his brothers’ rings. This one was all about love, open heart and passion. The center cut was a Burmese ruby, a pigeon’s-blood red, set with shield-shaped diamonds climbing the platinum setting. The diamonds on either side of the ring matched the family crest in shape.
He watched her face, her expression. His cousin was considered a genius when it came to matching the perfect ring with his clients. And he’d done so for Vittorio’s woman, even before any of them knew she existed. She let her breath out slowly.