Page 27 of Reckless Vow

Without judgment. Without reservations. Without well-meant opinions.

I wish she could be here more often, but she’s a model and her life is mostly in Europe. The irony is, we lived on the same side of the pond, at times in the same city, but our paths never crossed before.

I met Saar through Paris because she’s Finn’s sister. We bonded quickly in more ways than one—the youngest siblings, a love of dancing and clubbing, and our less than stellar track record with men.

“When he hesitated, the girl who didn’t end up with Baldo Cassinetti reappeared from somewhere and wanted it to be real. I worried I’m going to lose him again. Not that I have him. Or even want him. It was just a moment of…” I groan. “I don’t know.”

Saar bites into her carrot stick. “You were overwhelmed. From what you’ve told me…” She counts on her fingers. “He got a haircut. He had a store opened to get you a dress, and then he got you a ring because you made an off-hand comment about wanting one. My panties are melting and I haven’t even met the man.”

“Not just any ring.” I sigh, extending my fingers to admire the jewel.

“Not just any ring. It’s breathtaking.”

“That’s not what I mean. Way back when, I told him that I never wanted a diamond like everyone else. That I wanted a ruby. And he promised me—when we were seventeen—that one day he’d propose with a ruby.” I swallow the memory. “Is this some cruel joke he is playing? Like getting me a ruby for a fake wedding to rub it in my face thatwenever really happened?”

“Oh, Brook, sweetie, you’re overthinking it.” She may want to calm me, but she worries her bottom lip.

“Saar?”

“It’s nothing.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Well… I doubt this is a ring that he bought on a whim. It looks custom made.”

I wish she didn’t voice my concern. A ruby by itself would send a message. But it would be practically impossible for him to get it in the few days since his proposal.

Then again, he had a boutique opened for us on a few minutes’ notice, so perhaps he could command a jeweler the same way.

What does it mean? And why can’t I ask him? Baldo used to be the easiest person to talk to, and now… I feel completely out of my element when around him.

“Yeah, either it’s an elaboratefuck youmessage he put a lot of thought and money into, or… I don’t want to contemplate the alternative.”

I pop a cheese cube with an olive into my mouth.

The creamy texture of the cheese perfectly mixes with the briny, slightly tangy bite of the olive, and I try to focus on the rich taste instead of the turmoil in my head.

Jesus, I don’t even like olives.

And I don’t get anywhere early.

Or tongue-tied.

What the hell have you done to me, Baldo Cassinetti?

“Or he’s doing all those things because he wants a second chance.” Saar shrugs.

“That’s not happening.” I’m not even sure why I’m so determined to keep it that way. “Our parents would never approve. Mom asked us to keep the marriage a secret from Dad.”

“I can see how it’s weird for them, but at the end of the day, they would want you to be happy.”

Happiness is the last thing I feel when around Baldo.

Lust? Maybe.

Resentment? For sure.

Hope? Unfortunately.

“Half of the time he looks at me like I’m his arch-nemesis, anyway.”

“You just said a part of you wanted—”

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