Good God!
Only someone with an obscene amount of money could afford something like this. It’s a round brilliant-cut diamond, haloed with smaller diamonds that form a delicate crown, all of it set in a delicate platinum band that is so polished I can see the faintest suggestion of my reflection in it. The diamond catches the late afternoon light from the window, and suddenly there are prisms everywhere, tiny rainbows dancing across the room. It’s not just gorgeous. It’s breathtaking.
“Oh Lord,” I whisper. “It’s going to be like wearing a star on my finger.”
Rhett pushes himself off the doorway and strolls over towards me. His gait is casual. He plucks the ring delicately fromits perch in the box. Taking my nerveless left hand in his, he holds the ring at the tip of my finger. I can’t take my hand off our fingers. The cool brush of the metal against my skin makes me shiver. Then, with a smoothness that makes my stomach flip, he slides it onto my finger.
The fit is perfect.
My eyes lift up to meet his. He is watching me intently. Something in his expression confuses me and I bite my lower lip and let my gaze slide away.
I raise my hand, staring at it as if I’ve never seen my own fingers before in my life. Wow! It’s really something. It even feels heavier than I expected it to, like it carries its own gravity. Every movement makes it catch the light differently. Sometimes it is pure fire, and then at other times, it is glittering frost. It looks utterly unreal on me, like I’ve been mistaken for someone who belongs in glossy magazines, or for someone who actually belongs in his moneyed world.
“Wow,” I manage, my voice breaking on a laugh. “I can’t stop looking at it. It’s gorgeous. It’s so beautiful. I love it.”
“You’re supposed to love it,” Rhett says. “That’s the whole point.”
“I do. I know it’s just temporary and all that, but heavens, it’s so insanely beautiful, I think I need sunglasses to look at it. One thing is for sure, people are going to stare.”
He grins. “Good. Let them stare.”
I wiggle my fingers, mesmerized by the dancing balls of light my ring throws off. I glance at Rhett.
“So, this is what it feels like to be engaged to a billionaire, huh? A permanent disco ball attached to your hand?”
“Among other things,” he says smoothly. “But that’s a good start.”
I laugh, warmth unfurling in my chest despite myself. For a moment, I almost forget that this is just pretend. Almost.
“What if I lose it?” I say, frowning suddenly.
“It’s insured.” Rhett tugs gently on my hand, lowering it from where I’ve been practically waving it in front of my face.
“Phew, that’s a relief,” I mumble. “I almost gave myself a heart attack thinking about losing this ring.
Rhett slides his arm across the back of my waist. “I’ve finished work today. Let’s go and show New York your ring.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Pippa
Stepping into Times Square is like stepping into a parallel universe designed by someone who overdosed on neon and chaos. I’ve seen it in countless movies, on postcards and prints, and even on the screensaver that used to pop up on my old computer.
But being here, in the flesh, is so different.
No picture can prepare anyone for this. It is like being swallowed up by electricity. Every inch of the place pulses with light. There are billboards stacked on top of more billboards. Giant moving screens advertise everything from Broadway musicals to the latest cellphone upgrade. The sky barely exists here because the buildings crowd upward, blocking it out, and their sides are plastered with more colors than my brain can register in one take.
And the noise. Dear god, the noise. Car horns blare, engines rumble, voices rise and collide in dozens of languages. Street performers shout for attention. A guy in an Elmo suit waves at me like we’re old friends. Music from a boombox bleeds into theopening chords of a busker’s guitar. It’s pure chaos, madness, but it’s also amazing and alive, and I can’t help but be infected by the atmosphere of the place. I feel giddy and light and excited, although I don’t know why.
I grip Rhett’s arm tighter than I mean to. “It’s like sensory overload squared added to an adrenaline rush times a thousand.”
He chuckles, his breath brushing my ear. “Welcome to the center of the universe.”
“It’s so much,” I say, wide-eyed. “It’s like Times Square is trying to eat me alive, but I think I like it.”
Rhett looks down at me, amused. “Stick with me, I’ll protect you.”
He takes my hand, and we move with the tide of bodies, the crowd sweeping us along. People are snapping selfies everywhere, the glow of their screens reflecting off their faces. A family poses in front of the giant Coca-Cola sign. Two teenagers squeal and point at a Broadway marquee. The smell of hot pretzels and roasted nuts drifts over to me from a vendor cart, tangling with the sharper scent of exhaust and city living that fills the air.
