“I’m not telling you how much this cost.”
“It’s more than anything I’ve ever touched before in my life.”
I open my mouth to retort, but she holds a palm out. “If you want to talk about your gold-plated dick, save it. We’re in the middle of high society and there’s no place for your utter maleness.”
I lean down and whisper in her ear, even as I’m grinning. “Watch that tone, woman.” I love the way she shivers and flushes a deeper shade of red, the way her eyes go all sleepy and sexy with the threat.
We eat the rest of our meal in comfort, laughing, talking, and joking until it’s time for us to go. “I want to see you wearing nothing but this tonight,” I tell her, already imagining those diamonds sparkling on her naked skin when I fuck her. We haven’t had a single night we’ve missed together, not one, since we married.
My phone buzzes when the waiter brings us dessert. I lift it to see a text from Romeo. I’m high from just being with her, her obvious pleasure at my gift, and her company. I kinda want to pinch myself, because I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with this fucking masterpiece of a woman.
Romeo: You still at dinner? Don’t want to bother you.
Me: Yeah, but wrapping it up. Everything okay?
Romeo: Tavi’s been tapping Elise’s phone. We need to talk.
I look across the table at her. She’s fingering the necklace, her small, delicate fingers tracing each star-shaped diamond.
Me: She has her phone?
Romeo: She didn’t tell you?
Me: No.
I put my phone in my pocket and signal to the waiter.
She’s in so much goddamn trouble.
“Check please.”
CHAPTER 14
“I do remember.” ~Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
“Elise”
My fingers skim my neck where the necklace lies, like actual stars in the sky. I can’t believe he got this for me. I didn’t even know he was paying attention to me, that he knew something like this would mean so much.
No one’s ever bought me jewelry, and no one’s ever bought me anything expensive. I can tell just by looking at this it’s worth more than I even want to think about.
“Everything okay?” For some reason, just looking at the way he’s staring at his phone, the way his gaze has cooled to ice, makes the food I just ate sit like a rock in my stomach.
“Why would you think something’s wrong?”
Tonight at dinner, there was an almost…lighthearted air about him. Almost jovial. Almost. He still carries himself with utter seriousness almost all of the time, but every once in a while, I get a glimpse of the man who was once a boy. I can see the laughter behind his eyes, the softness in his jaw, the whimsical twinkle in his eye. But then he blinks, and it’s gone, like scattered dandelion seeds in a gust of wind. I reach for them, hoping to touch the filament like fairy dust, but too soon the moment’s over. And now, after the most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten, he has that look in his eyes again. The look that tells me he’s troubled. Something’s on his mind.
I’ve learned not to ask questions. Or…to time the questions right, anyway. I walk beside him and reach for his hand. His grip is almost painful. I wish he could speak to me more freely, but in our current situation, I’m sure he needs privacy before we talk. At least that’s what I tell myself.
When we get to the car, our driver pulls up to the curb. As usual, Orlando opens the door for me and I slide in, my finger still tracing the twinkling edges of the necklace he gave me. He follows behind me and slams the door hard. My heart jumps.
I wouldn’t really say Orlando has a temper. But I also wouldn’t call him a temperate sort of guy. He burns hot, like embers in a fire, pretty much all the time. Even when he’s sleeping, he’s physically warm to the touch, and that might just be my body responding to his on instinct, but I don’t think so.
But even in the privacy of the recesses of the back of the car, he doesn’t speak. He offers no information at all. He drums his fingers on his leg and looks out the window distractedly.
“Orlando.”
He looks to me silently.
“We had such a nice dinner in there. And then you sort of just…closed off. What happened? If it’s something you can’t tell me, I understand.”
“We’ll talk about it back at The Castle.”
I don’t question it. And it isn’t just because he’s taught me to obey him, but also because I’ve learned to be a little more patient. When he has something to say to me, he always tells me. He doesn’t hide anything from me, at least I don’t think so. So I sit back in the seat, and I close my eyes. I enjoy the feel of the necklace on my skin. I’ll never forget the way his eyes shone at me when he put it on me. He likes making me happy.