Fire burned in his eyes as they raked down the length of me before coming back up. His lips curved into a smile as he hooked his thumbs into his pockets.
“You look stunning,” he said, a rasp I usually only heard in the bedroom in his voice.
“Thanks. You look okay, too.” I lifted the dress and dipped into a silly curtsy. “Shall we go to the ball?”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest when I straightened out again. “We shall. There’s just one thing we need to complete your outfit.”
I titled my head. “Yeah, what’s that?”
One of his hands slid into the inside pocket of his jacket, and when he pulled it out, a small velvet box came with it. My breath caught in my throat and my heartrate kicked up a few notches.
No. That can’t be what I think it is, right?
But, of course, it was.
Cyrus lifted the top of the box and presented me with a ring that managed to be dainty and flashy all at the same time. It had the finest filigree work around the band and wasn’t gaudy, but the center stone was large, and the smaller ones inlaid around it weren’t exactly subtle either.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” A slow smirk spread on Cyrus’s lips. “For the night, anyway. What do think? It looks pretty legit, right?”
My hand came up to my chest and I tried to smile, anything not to show the inner maelstrom of emotions from showing on the outside. There was no way I could let Cyrus see how him presenting me with a ring, especially a ring that was so close to the one I’d always wanted, and hearing him say those words affected me.
A part of me that was wholly too big had leaped in joy and it wasn’t just because of the ring or the idea of marriage this time. It was because the man in question was one I would have given my all to if he’d have let me. Or if I’d have let myself, for that matter.
While we hadn’t been intimate since we’d been here, we’d hardly stopped touching. We laughed and talked and walked hand in hand. I’d seen glimpses again of that man I now knew lived inside, the one Peter had alluded to when he’d said there was good guy beneath all that dick demeanor.
Even now, with that one unruly lock of hair refusing to stay back and falling across his forehead, his eyes shining with humor and his posture radiating that cool, calm confidence I’d come to expect from him, I felt connected to him. Almost like I belonged to him.
Well, technically, you do. For tonight, anyway. Just like he’d said.
“Yeah,” I said, blinking back the harsh reality that Cyrus wasn’t really anything more than a friend at most, and forced a smile. “It’s pretty darn legit. You ready to get this show on the road?”
“Let’s,” he said, then reached for my left hand and slid the ring onto it, even bringing it up to his mouth to kiss my hand once he had. “Perfect.”
For one moment—just one moment in time when our eyes connected again—it felt like this wasn’t temporary. Feeling the weight of his ring on my finger felt right, even though I knew it wasn’t right, and for that one moment, I imagined he felt it as well.
Then he opened his mouth and shattered the illusion, or as April would have said, the delusion. “God, am I glad you agreed to fake marry me. I would have hated to have gone to this thing on my own.”
Right. I closed my eyes and sucked in a quiet breath, fortifying myself for the night ahead. “Sure, because you made it so easy to say no.”
He shrugged and held his arm out for me. “Hey, tell me you aren’t glad you said yes. Aren’t you having fun? Doesn’t knowing you’re going back debt free and having seen all this make it a little easier to be fake married to me?”
It left a bitter taste in my mouth actually, but I didn’t mention it. “Well, if there’s anything that makes it worth putting up with you, I guess it’s that.”
Laughing as he gently rested his hand over mine in the crook of his elbow, he shook his head at me. “At least now I know there’s something that makes it worth putting up with me. How about Greece next time?”
“I don’t know,” I said dryly. “What’s the next favor you’re going to need from me?”
“Don’t know yet.” He smirked and pushed the errant hair off his forehead with his free hand. “I’ll let you know, but Greece?”
I sighed but couldn’t hold back just one small smile at how genuinely enthusiastic he sounded. “Sure. Greece, it is.”
It turned out the gala was being held in our hotel. When the elevator let us out in the lobby, it was swarming with elegantly dressed people holding champagne flutes and waiters carrying big silver trays of hors d’oeuvres around.
My eyes slid to the front door and I noticed a sign outside the massive glass windows stating that the hotel was closed for a private function. Holy cow. I didn’t realize this is such a big deal.
As the night wore on, however, I learned a lot of things I hadn’t realized before. Firstly, this event was not only such a big deal, but it was ridiculously fancy as well.
Secondly, Cyrus was as much of a big deal to these people as the event itself was. He was the center of attention and he absolutely rocked the role. More than ever, he practically oozed power and dominance.
Even in a room full of the most successful entrepreneurs of our time, Cyrus didn’t blend in. He stood out like an impeccably dressed sore thumb. He kept me close to his side, boasting about how he’d married the most amazing woman in the world, and even though I knew none of the compliments were real, I still found myself proud to be next to him as people fawned over him.
“Let’s go find our seats,” he said as we walked into an actual ballroom. It came complete with chandeliers, about six thousand different pieces of silverware on the tables, and what looked like real diamonds as part of the centerpieces. “We’ll sit for dinner while some speakers take the stage.”
“Are you a speaker tonight?” I asked because he hadn’t mentioned being one but after seeing how revered he was around here, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was.
He chuckled and shook his head as he led us to one of the tables right up front. “They asked, but I’ve spoken two years in a row. I’m pretty sure everyone around here is as bored of listening to me as I am of speaking to them.”
“Only you,” I mused, taking a seat in the chair he pulled out for me.
Cyrus chuckled again and took the seat next to mine, then leaned over to say something in my ear only to stiffen before a word came out. I turned my head, our mouths so close together that we were breathing the same air.
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” A faint grimace tightened his impression. “Don’t look right now, but the woman who just walked in wearing the red dress? That’s my ex.”
My breathing faltered and my mouth went dry. I was about to get my first look at the only woman Cyrus had ever loved enough to make his wife, the very woman who was the reason I was in this magical place to begin with.
When I finally did turn slowly to take a peek at her, I almost wished I hadn’t. My eyes nearly fell out of my head and I suddenly felt nauseated.
The former Mrs. Coning was beautiful, as I’d imagined she would be. She was simply breathtaking, the kind of gorgeous that had most men in the room turning toward her, even those with what I suspected were models on their own arms.