“Which one do you like?” Anderson asks.
I shake my head, the glittering stones almost blinding me. They’re much bigger and extravagant than I pictured myself wearing. I want to tell him the ring he already bought me is perfect, that I can’t imagine myself wearing something so…grandiose.
I don’t have a choice, though. I need to learn to play by their rules, and that includes wearing a ring from the royal vault as a sign of the king’s approval of our union.
Swallowing down my protest, I study the different rings, trying to select one I wouldn’t mind wearing the rest of my life, at least at public events. They’re all beautiful. Some all diamonds. Others different jewels — sapphire, ruby, emerald.
But there’s one that calls to me. A blue stone that reminds me of Anderson’s eyes — light around the edges, transitioning to a stormy blue in the center.
“This one, I think.” I point to the stone that’s flanked by dozens of smaller diamonds.
“Lovely choice, ma’am.” The man removes it from the display. “That’s an eight carat tanzanite stone surrounded by an additional two carats worth of diamonds. Do you know much about tanzanite?”
“I don’t.”
“It’s one of the rarest stones in existence. In fact, it’s a thousand times rarer than diamonds. The stone was named by Tiffany’s after its place of origin in Northern Tanzania. It’s estimated there’s only a thirty-year supply left. In my opinion, it’s the perfect choice to commemorate a once-in-a-lifetime love.” He beams and hands Anderson the ring.
Anderson takes my left hand in his, his eyes trained on mine as he removes his original engagement ring. When he brings the tanzanite ring up to the same finger, he arches a single brow.
He doesn’t make any move to put the ring on my finger yet, giving me one last chance to change my mind. I don’t need him to say it. Once we do this, once I walk out of those doors to meet the press for the first time and his father announces his formal approval of our engagement, there’s no backing out.
But I couldn’t walk away from Anderson even if I wanted to.
My stare unwavering, I nod.
He slides the ring onto my finger, then raises it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. Neither one of us says a word, but I can’t help but feel like there’s been a shift inside of me.
I pray it’s for the better, not the worse.
Chapter Twelve
Anderson
“Is it possible to pull a muscle in your face?” Nora remarks later in the evening as Creed drives from my estate on the outskirts of the city and toward the vibrant city center. “Because I’m pretty sure I have.”
“How so?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.
There’s something different about her now that our engagement has been made official and my father has announced to the world that, in eight weeks, she’ll be the Crown Princess of Belmont, and eventually queen consort. But all of that comes second to the most important aspect of my father’s announcement. In eight weeks, I’ll be her husband, our hearts and souls bound together even more so than they are now. Most men might be nervous. Not me. If possible, I would have married her today.
I truly am the luckiest bastard in the world.
“From smiling all day for the cameras. If this is to become a regular thing, I may have to work face exercises into my workout routine.”
Chuckling, I grab her right hand, lifting it to my lips, brushing them against her finger where the engagement ring I got her sits, the family ring on the left. It meant a lot she insisted on still wearing my ring.
“I can think of a few ways to stretch those face muscles.” I mischievously waggle my brows.
“I bet you can.”
“We’ll start when we get home, if you’d like.”
“Is that right?” She pulls her hand from mine and shoots me a playful glare.
“You’re the one who said your face muscles could use a workout. I’m simply offering my services. Consider me your…personal trainer.”
Her lips pinch together into a tight line. “I wouldn’t want to burden you. Shouldn’t you check with your private secretary first to make sure you have room in your schedule for what I can only assume could be a rather time-consuming task?”
I dip my head toward her, my mouth a breath away from her neck. “I’ll make the time to feel your lips on my cock.” I linger there for a beat. I don’t even need to look at her to know her expression is flushed, her breaths coming quicker. Then I pull away, confirming my original suspicions. “I think two hours a day is a good start.” I lean back in the seat, extending my legs as far in front of me as possible and place my hands behind my head, the picture of relaxation. “Feel free to start now.”
“Such an opportunist.”
“Like I said, I’m simply offering to help.”
She curves toward me, trailing her fingers down the t-shirt I changed into, per Esme’s instructions to not wear a suit. As her hand approaches my belt, she stops. “Baby, you wouldn’t be able to last two minutes.”
I raise a brow. “Don’t think so?”
“I know so. If memory serves correctly, last time I sucked your dick, you went quick.”
I graze my lips against hers, a lightness in my chest at our easy banter and conversation. It reminds me of the people we were back in New York. Gives me hope we’ll still be those people, despite the uncertain road we’re about to embark on.
“What can I say? You give damn good head, gorgeous.”
She seals her mouth over mine, her tongue teasing, giving me a taste of exactly what she can do with that tongue on other parts of my body. “Likewise…” Pulling back, she smirks. “Gorgeous,” she adds, mimicking my accent to the best of her ability.
When the SUV comes to a stop in front of a brick row house across from one of the many canals snaking through the capital city, Nora peers out the window.
“No gated drive or elaborate palace for Esme?” she asks as Creed slides out of the SUV.
“Her formal residence has all of that.”
“Formal residence? Then where are we?”
“Somewhere she goes to escape it all.”
Nora’s door opens, and Creed helps her find her footing. When I step out, I glance up and down the quiet street to make sure no one is around to catch a glimpse of us. As expected, I notice a few dark SUVs at either entrance of the block, preventing vehicular and pedestrian traffic from coming this way for the few seconds it takes us to go from the SUV and up the front steps of Esme’s townhouse.
“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Creed tells me. “Call when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thank you.”
“Enjoy your evening, Your Highness.” He bows, then looks to Nora. “My lady.”
“Creed.”
He remains in place, as he’s been trained. It’s not until I punch a code into the keypad by the front door and it opens that he retreats.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Nora mumbles under her breath as we step inside the house, closing the door behind us.
“What is?”