He smiled and led me to the white leather couch wrapped around the center table near the champagne.
“Why are there feathers?” I asked, not sure why they were cast around. Clearly, Roman was trying to be romantic with the champagne, but the feathers were odd.
“You always said you hated flowers. That they were pretentious. So sprinkling rose petals all around wouldn’t work, and I felt I had to do something so”—he shrugged as he reached for the champagne bottle—“you got feathers. You always take flight like a bird and…”
I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Roman could be so damn irresistible and charming, just as he could be an arrogant asshole. I loved both sides of him. Yeah, I could admit it. I loved Roman.
Roman popped the champagne cork with an ease and grace that only a man who had done it a million times before could do and filled the glasses with the bubbling liquid.
“You had this all planned? How did you know I would be here?” I asked as I took my drink from him.
“I didn’t. I had the harbor on my list. There were about ten other spots where I was going to look for you as well. So there are ten other champagne bottles on ice spread throughout New Orleans. Lots of feathers too.” He took a sip of his drink and casually sat back as he looked at me with a smile. “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”
“You’re kidding right?” I asked. “Please tell me you are kidding.”
He shrugged. “You’ll never know.”
“Prick,” I teased.
“I can be.” His face grew somber. “I definitely can be.” He leaned forward and placed his glass on the table. “I’m sorry, Cheri. The way I went about getting you here, and the way I acted last night was not fair to you.”
“What was wrong with last night?” I asked. “I remember us having a good time.”
His face lit up. “That it was. But you do deserve better. I didn’t bring you to New Orleans just so I could fuck you at a high-end club.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I definitely wanted to fuck you, but that wasn’t the reason I really wanted you to come back to me.”
I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as I sipped from my glass, enjoying seeing this more sensitive side of Roman. It reminded me so much of the boy of years past who had grown to become a man. Warm familiar feelings—other than the passion and the sexual need of last night—came flooding in.
“I wanted you to come back to New Orleans to marry me. You know this. But just because you do know the royal arrangement, and you always have, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a proper proposal.”
My heart stopped. The pounding started in my head again. My ears rang. I wanted to run. Fast.
No. No. Fight it. Don’t try to escape.
It’s Roman.
Roman lowered himself to one knee and reached for my left hand. “My sweet Cheri, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you please marry me?”
I sat stunned, not once having expected Roman to ever do such a thing. My already opened mouth opened wider when he pulled out a Tiffany-blue box from his pocket. Opening the lid, he lifted out a beautiful diamond ring in a platinum setting. It wasn’t so big that I would hate the obscenity of it, but instead it was the perfect size. It appeared antique in appearance, and I instantly fell in love with it. Roman knew my style through and through—feathers and all.
I nodded with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was acting like one of those girls. The type who cry at amorous gestures—but I didn’t give a damn. This was the most romantic moment of my life, and if I wanted to cry, I was going to cry. “Yes, yes! I will marry you,” I said as I allowed him to put the ring on my finger. It fit perfectly, which again I expected from Roman. He always covered all his bases.
I put down my glass, wrapped my arms around his neck, and placed my lips to his. I kissed him differently this time. Not out of lust but out of love. When I pulled away after the most tender of kisses, I said, “Promise me that we won’t have a huge wedding. I can’t take that.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that. Your mother is going to go crazy. It’s her I worry about.”
“If I can control my mother, will you promise me that you won’t let all the planners and organizers step in? Please?”
He smiled and kissed me on the tip of my nose. “I will promise you if you promise me something.”
“Anything!” I agreed, desperate to avoid a full-blown media circus of a wedding.
“No more running. I don’t want to go to bed every night and worry if you’ll be in the bed the next morning.” He gave me a wink. “I happen to like morning sex.”
I playfully shoved him, but then nodded. “Yes, I promise. No more running. Unless…”
His eyebrows rose and his jaw tightened. “Cheri—”
“Unless we run away together. Together.”
“Together,” he repeated.
“Until death do us part.”
“It shall be our royal duty,” he said as he leaned in and kissed me with all the love of the years past, and all the love still to come. “But,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Now that we have had the light part of this story and did what was needed to officially get engaged, it’s time for the dark side too. I told you that training on how to be a proper princess in my world would be required.”
My eyebrow rose, and I pulled away slightly. “Yes. I remember.” My voice quivered as I said the words, revealing my uncertainty. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“I want you to go home to your mother’s and rest up. I will be there at 8:00 pm to pick you up. The first step of becoming my bride begins tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Roman
“Thanks for coming in to meet with me,” I began as all seven of us took our usual seats.
It was out of the ordinary for me to call a meeting at Spiked Roses, since that was mainly Kenneth or Matthew’s department. Out of the seven powerful men who owned the club, they took the lead. They did a good job running the business side of the club, so the rest of us were perfectly fine with taking a back seat. Spiked Roses wasn’t your normal men’s only membership club. There was nothing stuffy or blue blood about the place. Elite, power, wealth, and sinister delights oozed from every crack in the old building draped in baroque design… but with class.
“What’s this about?” Kenneth asked. Leave it to the man to be direct and straight to the point. He was not one for sugar coating anything or easing into a conversation.
“I’m not sure if you all know this, but I’m getting married.”
“What the fuck?” Harley Crow said wide-eyed. Seeing him so surprised, made me smile. It took a lot to rattle the cages of the killer assassin whom all feared. “I didn’t even know you were hooking up with someone.”
“It’s complicated,” I began. “It’s an arranged marriage that has been planned since I was a child.”
“That shit still exists?” Harley asked.
I nodded.
“Do you need our help getting out of it?” Victor Drayton asked. “I know you are royalty, but I’m sure we can step in and figure this out.”