“I hope I can count on you to keep an eye on him while we’re gone, young lady. Make sure he doesn’t slip anything else in his pockets.”
Though she was obviously reeling over what the man had just said about rings, Ben gave Marcie credit. She rallied enough to toss Bernard one of those devastating smiles that could bring a man to his knees. “Count on it.”
But as the shopkeeper disappeared, Marcie turned around in the chair, standing on her knees on the cushioned seat so she could touch his face, her other hand on his shoulder. “Ben,” she said. “Three weeks ago…”
“Yeah.” Taking both her hands, he guided her back to her feet. She didn’t say anything more, just stood there, gazing up at him, so much in her face. He didn’t say anything either, but somehow, nothing needed to be said.
Bernard was wrong. He was still hungry, but this was a new hunger, one that grew every day and was never filled. To watch her reaction to everything, listen to what she had to say, demand her full capitulation to him as her Dom in a million ways. Even knowing that every time she submitted, she won his full surrender to everything she was.
Bernard and Winston were back. Her fingers in his grasp, Ben drew her to the main horseshoe-shaped counter to see what they were putting out on a black velvet covered board.
It was the first time he was seeing the finished work, but that was fine. Because he knew Bernard, Ben knew it would be nothing less than perfect. He didn’t look at the rings, though. He looked at Marcie’s face as she looked at them.
“Ben,” she said softly. Her fingers were trembling once more.
The engagement band was platinum, the diamond a sparkling marquis, flanked by swirling metalwork that included three tiny flowers, two on one side of the diamond, the other centered opposite it. The wedding bands were also platinum, and Bernard turned them so she could see the inscription inside. On the inside of the thicker male band was the word “Always.” The female one said “Yours.”
At Bernard’s nod, Ben picked up the engagement band, and took her hand. Marcie’s breath caught, color washing out of her cheeks. Slightly alarmed, he tightened his grip on her fingers. “Don’t you faint on me,” he warned. “That’s an order.”
She choked on a half-laugh, but when he dropped to one knee, she paled even more, such that he put a hand on her hip. It was okay, though, because her other hand was on his shoulder, gripping. He found his throat suddenly dry enough he had to clear it.
“I still have a lot of things to work through, Marcie. I can’t give you a date yet. But I can give you the promise that comes with this. If I’m capable of making that commitment at all, it will only be to you. Will you accept that?”
“You never ask me anything,” she managed. “My Master simply tells me.”
She spoke as if the two of them were alone. He was okay with that, too. Bernard and his son were as discreet as priests. Whatever they made of her words would stay with them.
“On a lot of things, yes. Not on this. I’ll do what it takes to care for you, always. If it hurts your heart too much to wait, so be it. But if you can have faith in me, I need…time.”
To make sure he deserved her, before there was no turning back and he ruined her life.
She looked at him a long moment and slowly nodded her head. “I can give you time. For a while.”
There was his brat. The little set to her chin said she wasn’t going to let him push it out too long, while the soft understanding in her eyes gave him what he needed. She hadn’t lived the life he had, didn’t understand the paths he’d walked, and he was damn glad she didn’t. If he was given a choice of going through it again or her having to walk that same route, he’d take it three times over to save her from coming anywhere close to the hell he’d survived.
But even without that direct understanding, somehow she knew him. Knew how to connect with the darkness and need inside him, soothe and ease it, give him comfort and challenge both, in all the right ways.
“Okay.” He slid the ring on her finger, a perfect fit. Her fingers closed over it. When he rose, he lifted her up on her toes, her arms circling his neck as he kissed her.
A loud noise disrupted them a long minute later, and Marcie looked toward the store front. As she laughed and hid her face against his chest, Ben saw the windows of the limo were down, and the women were waving flutes of champagne and cheering while Max laid down on the horn in celebratory bursts.
Ben looked toward a smiling Bernard and his son. “You really should have the police drive off the rabble hanging around in front of your store.”
“Of course, Mr. O’Callahan. We’ll look into that.” Bernard had already placed the other two rings in a small silk-lined box that could be latched. After he did that, he handed the box over to Ben. “I wish you both the very best.”
Reaching across the counter, Bernard clasped Marcie’s hand one more time, placing his other hand on top of it. “The marquis cut diamond is also known as a navette, meaning little ship, because of its shape. I think that is a very appropriate cut for an engagement ring, since it signifies the beginning of a voyage together.”
Releasing her, he gave Marcie a wink. “I will look for your wedding notice in the society columns, so I can add it to the clippings of the many other happy couples whose rings I’ve had the privilege of designing.”
“I’ll bring you a copy myself,” she promised. “Your work is beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you are, my angel,” he said. “Keep him out of the fires, hmm?”
So, yeah. It had been a nice, long day. After the cookout at Lucas’s, he took Marcie home to his Garden District house and reminded her thoroughly and several times, who her Master was. In the morning, he dropped a reverent kiss on her bare shoulder where she lay limply in the bed. As he always did—or rather, the routine they were establishing in their new life, living together—he left her aspirin and directions for what he expected of her that morning.
Take a long, hot shower, put on one of my shirts or your silk robe. Magnanimously, he left that choice up to her, even knowing she’d choose one of his dress shirts. She always did. Then she was to eat the breakfast he’d left her and spend the morning, until he returned, reading on the small balcony at the end of the second floor hallway. It overlooked the alley garden below. He knew she had a new book she wanted to read, and he wanted her to take the time to enjoy it.
He also liked thinking that she might get distracted a few times from the pages by the new addition to her finger. She’d spent most of the time last night—when he didn’t have her otherwise distracted—gazing at the sparkling diamond like a kid with the best Christmas gift ever.