34
IVAN
I look across a sea of glittering diamonds and gold and see my fiancée. That’s what I called her when my family’s long-time personal jeweler asked why I needed the last-minute appointment. The first person beyond the circle of my own family who knows.
“I wanted to let my fiancée hand-select her engagement ring,” I told Kieran. “Whatever she wants, it’s hers. No questions asked.”
At those words, Kieran looked like he wanted to marry me. He’s an incorrigible gossip, too, so I’m sure that the second we’re gone, he’ll take out a billboard saying that the new Pushkin bride is wearing his jewelry.
Which is why I chose him as one of our first stops.
Kieran immediately turned to Cora, peppering her with questions about size and preferences. She gave him a blank stare in return. Overwhelmed by all of this, no doubt.
“I’ll leave you two to browse as I prepare some custom mockups I’ve been saving for a special occasion.” He winked at me and disappeared into his office in the back.
Cora and I have been perusing the display cases ever since. We’re circling each other in tense silence. Every time she tucks her dark hair behind her ear and twists her full lips in concentration, I get rigid.
I can’t seem to decide what I hate more: being close to her or not being close enough.
God, the way she looked standing in that bathroom…
My office had been dark the night we’d met. She kept my suit jacket on, kept the curves and edges of her concealed under wool.
This morning outside of the tub, she was illuminated from every possible angle. I saw the soft swell of her breasts and the curve of her hip. I’ll never scrub the image from my mind. Not that I’d want to. Especially after the way she looked back at me, her green eyes going dark with desire as they trailed over my tattoos.
We’re alike in that way: I also love the allure of something I’m not supposed to have.
“This one,” Cora says suddenly.
I snap my attention up. She’s pointing to a case at the front of the store.
“Not good enough. Pick something further back.”
She glares at me over the glass. “You haven’t even seen it.”
“I don’t need to. It’s directly in front of the doors. I’m not going to let you walk around with a cheap ring on your finger. You’re mine. Act like it.”
She mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “snob,” but she walks deeper into the store—which brings her closer to me.
As she passes by the display case I’m standing next to, she points into it. “That one is nice.”
I follow her finger and then scowl. “That’s a plain band.”
“An expensive plain band,” she points out.
I check the four-digit price tag and snort. “Hardly.”
“I don’t care about jewelry. I never wear it. When I do, I don’t want it getting in the way. I’d rather have something simple.”
Niles did a good job with Cora’s wardrobe. She’s wearing a pair of high-waisted tweed trousers with a silk cami tucked in. She looks sleek and classy. She looks like she belongs here.
The trouble, it seems, will be teaching her to act like she belongs here.
Kieran chuckles as he walks back into the showroom. “In all my years as a jeweler, I’ve only heard one other woman say something like that. It was a couple years ago and—”
His eyes catch on Cora and widen.
She snaps her head back down, her hair falling between them like a shield.
“And anyway,” Kieran pivots, trying and failing to make a seamless transition, “I have the mockups if you’d like to see them.”
Cora mumbles a “yes” and we meet at the back display case. Kieran spreads digital renderings across the glass surface, never once meeting Cora’s eyes.
I don’t miss the spark of recognition.
They know each other.
She’s been here before.
Yasha told me Cora’s mother and stepfather are rich. She told me herself that he was at my party the other night. I’m sure she’s been here with her mother, maybe getting a piece cleaned or having something resized.
And yet…some primal part of me chafes against the suggestion that she might’ve come here with another man. The beast in my chest growls.
“I have an array of options,” Kieran begins. “If you’re looking for something on the simple end of the spectrum, we have solitaire engagement rings. Though I would highly recommend an accompanying band after the ceremony. I can keep it understated, but a beautiful woman such as yourself should have a beautiful ring to match.”
There will be no ceremony. This may very well be the only ring I ever buy Cora. I want it to count.
“That sounds nice,” she starts.
But I swipe the renderings of the solitaire settings into a pile. “I want something bigger.”
Cora leans in close. “What about what I want?”
I turn and grip her chin gently. “I want everyone within a ten-mile radius to know you are mine. Isn’t that what you want, too?”
If she wants to keep her part of the bargain, there is only one answer she can give me.
Her throat bobs. “Yes.”
I brush my thumb over her lower lip and release her. “Good girl.” Then I tap the pile of papers. “Pick something else.”
Kieran and Cora take over the conversation, discussing thousands of different options and customizations. There are no additional signs that they’ve had this same conversation before with another man standing at Cora’s side. But the feeling that I’m filling another man’s absence weighs heavily.
It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t. Cora and I are not in a relationship. This is a business arrangement. We have ground rules and well-outlined roles and expectations.
But I can’t stop imagining her wearing this ring. Only this ring. On her knees before me with her hand wrapped around my—
“That one,” Cora says definitively. “I want that one.”
The rendering is of a simple diamond setting in the center with a crown of diamonds around it, opening as if they’re petals of a flower in bloom. The band is made of delicately molded gold leaves.
Kieran beams, telling me all I need to know about the price of it. “Impeccable choice. Any customizations?”
“No, I like it just the way—”
“I want the center diamond twice as big,” I say.
Kieran and Cora both turn to me, one of them looking far more delighted than the other.
“That can be arranged,” Kieran assures me greedily. “I’ll need to make some adjustments to the surrounding stones, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. The extra size will increase the price, of course.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
I sign where he tells me to do, then put my hand on the small of Cora’s back and escort her out to the waiting vehicle.
I silently hold the car door open for her. I don’t say anything until I turn away from the direction of the estate. When she realizes we’re headed a different way, she sits up. “Where are we going?”
I bite back a smirk. “We’ve got one more stop to make. You’re going to love this one, I promise.”