Page 129 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

You’ve seen your share of Ubers over the last twenty-four hours. I thought you might enjoy something a little more plush to take you to the airport. A woman like you deserves plush.

I hope you’ll change your mind about leaving today. Use this code to access the main entry of my building, as well as the private elevator to my apartment: 041770

Let a gentleman steal you away for one more night.

Always,

Thomas Crown

Ambassador Tower, London

At the bottom, he'd made two small additions.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one that brought me back to you. And that has made all the difference.

Two lovers converged in a bed. ‘Nuff said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

DASH

Six Months Later

"Shit!" Natalie shook her hand and headed for the sink.

"What happened?" Dash asked.

"I cut myself slicing these damn tomatoes." She held her thumb under a steady stream of cool water, watching a thin line of blood disappear down the drain.

"Let me see." He wiped his hands on his gym shorts and inspected the damage. "It's not that deep, but we need to get it cleaned up." He reached for a clean paper towel and wrapped it tightly around her finger.

She followed him into his bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. He rifled through cabinets and drawers. In a minute, he turned to her, a collection of first-aid supplies in hand.

"Don't worry. I'm certified in CPR," he said with authority.

"It's my thumb." She held up her wounded hand.

"Always err on the side of caution." He bent down and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

Dash went to work, cleaning and wrapping her cut like a skilled surgeon. When he finished, he gave her boo-boo a light kiss. "Better?" he asked.

"Much." She nodded. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"Well, we have Cookie’s big gallery event tomorrow night and I don't think sterile white gauze will be much of a compliment to my dress." She held up her bandaged digit. "It kinda sticks out like, well, like a sore thumb."

"Trust me, no one's going to be looking at your thumb. They'll be too busy looking at all your other parts."

"Maybe by tomorrow night, I'll be ready for a nice, discreet Band-Aid."

"I have an idea. Gimme sixty seconds. I'll be right back."

Dash disappeared, returning a minute later wearing an even wider smile. He knelt beside her and took hold of her left hand. Natalie’s face sifted through a dozen expressions at once: confusion, disbelief, joy.

"No one will be looking at your thumb if we give them something else to focus on," he said.

He held the diamond engagement ring against the tip of her ring finger, praying it would fit. He'd spent months secretly comparing it with other rings in her jewelry box, reassuring himself that he purchased the correct size. He’d solicited Kate’s help early in the shopping process, texting her pics of different bands and settings. She’d helped him narrow it down to three rings, assuring him that he could propose with a paper cigar band and Natalie would say yes. He'd only shown the final choice to one other person: Natalie's father.