Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
He cocked his head slightly, still giving me a look that hit harder than a bullet. “Marry me.”
I blinked, unsure if that was a serious statement or some kind of a joke. But given what had just happened over the last few hours, it seemed like a shitty time to make a joke. I almost asked but I changed my mind, and that was probably for the best.
His stare didn’t change, and that told me he was dead serious. “You want to thank me for what I did? Then marry me.”
All that stuff in the closet was dirty talk—but it was also true. It’d clearly been on his mind, but for how long, I didn’t know. It gave me a rush of adrenaline, of excitement and fear packaged together into a swirl of emotions. I’d just told Adrien that I would marry Bastien, but I meant someday, and the question still put me on the spot.
He waited for me to say something, not blinking since he’d begun this showdown.
I swallowed. Melted in the heat of his stare. Felt cornered like an animal. “Are you actually asking me—”
“I’m telling you.”
Jesus.
“That’s what I want. Now, give it to me.”
I was hot all over, a strange mixture of being turned on and fucking scared. No other man had ever wanted me so desperately, had ever been obsessed with me from the moment our eyes met. But it wasn’t a passion that flamed out as quickly as it started. It continued to burn, continued to grow, and he never seemed to grow tired of me.
“You said you had closure.”
“I did—”
“Then let’s do it.” He was so pragmatic about it, like this was a business negotiation rather than a romantic gesture. Every time I gave Bastien an inch, he demanded a mile. And now, he demanded all of my miles.
Jesus, my heart was beating so hard.
He abruptly rose to his feet and walked off. He headed to the bedroom.
I gave a quiet gasp in fear, afraid that I’d pissed him off and chased him away, but I was rooted to my chair, still grappling with the fact that he’d just asked—told—me to be his wife.
He returned as quickly as he left and placed a small box in front of me.
The lid was already open—revealing a big-ass diamond ring. “Oh my fucking god…” A brilliant oval diamond started up at me, reflecting the light that came from every corner and angle, the clarity unmistakable. The diamond had to be about twenty carats, the kind of ring only a queen would wear. Like, an actual queen. It was so big that its intention was more than to denote marital status, but rather the status of the man who’d given it to me. I wasn’t a jeweler or someone who knew anything about engagement rings, but this one had to be worth at least a couple million. “Bastien…” How long had it been sitting in his drawer? How long had I been sleeping right next to it? When did he buy it? When did he plan on giving it to me? Because I didn’t believe this was the moment he’d been waiting for.
“Do you like it?”
My eyes flicked up to his, and I released a strained laugh. “Do I like it…”
“Then put it on.”
“Is this too fast—”
“No.”
“Bastien.”
“I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to say it.” His arms moved to the table, and he leaned forward. “Are you?”
“No…”
“Then put on the damn ring and be my wife.”
I sucked in a breath before I looked at the ring again. My last wedding ring had been a completely different cut and style, and I was relieved to see something new, something that was unique and breathtaking but still me. I loved it the moment I saw it, and I loved it more because of who had given it to me.
I took the ring out of the box and slid it onto my finger, and of course, it was a perfect fit. The diamond was enormous compared to my slender finger. Anyone who saw it would know that a very powerful and rich man was behind it, that I belonged to someone ruthless…and romantic.
When I looked up at him again, he didn’t look pissed off anymore. Now, his eyes had softened slightly, and a wonderment was in his gaze. His eyes shifted back and forth between mine before a slow smile crept on to his lips. Then he slammed his hand hard onto the table, so hard it made the plates and glasses dance and clatter against the surface. “Fuck yeah.” He came around the table and dropped to his knees between my legs, kissing me hard, both hands cupping my cheeks, his tongue already in my mouth. His hands were in my hair, and he ravished me like I’d only been a fantasy until this moment—when he finally got to have me.