Page 64 of Iron Blade

“Until my life is done, I will never have another.” He didn’t so much growl the words, as he declared it. It was a pledge. An oath. He meant every word. “You will be blood of my blood. Your wants will become my needs. Your promises will become my vows, and your pain will be my humiliation.”

I gasped, because those words, in that formal, ancient way he delivered them filled me with a sense of certainty I had never had before. It was that sense of fate and foreboding that we would be married, and it would be eternal. There would be no escape, and therefore, no reason to resist.

“I signed your papers.” I finally turned in the circle of his arms.

I should care that anyone could see us in our embrace. I should be embarrassed by such a public display, but I wasn’t. Because he wasn’t.

“You accept, then?” His voice was quiet and uncertain, like he was holding his breath.

“I… I just have one more question.”

“Ask it, love.”

“Love? It’s funny you use that word because…” I took a deep breath because I needed to steady myself. Because whatever the answer, I knew it would make me weak in the knees. “I want to know if you… Do you love me?”

His serious face cracked a little, as a slow, lopsided grin spread over his lips.

“As St. Peter loved the Church.”

I had no idea what that meant. Was that a yes?

It took a second for his words to register.

I covered my mouth to cover a laugh. “You’re… Catholic, then?”

“Aye, of course. I’m Irish.” He nodded, lifting a brow. “Though I’m quite… lapsed.”

“Is it a problem if I’m not?”

“Is it a problem if I am?”

“I guess not but…”

He reached down and grabbed my left hand. He pulled something from his pocket, and in one swift movement, he placed a large emerald ring on my finger. It was big and bright, of the deepest green, surrounded by diamonds. It covered my entire finger below the lowest joint, and while I wasn’t an expert on gems, I think the carat weight of the side stones alone could buy my entire apartment building.

“Jesus,” I sighed, in awe as I stared down on the monstrosity. “It’s the size of a planet.”

He chuckled again, the sound filling me with a sense of calm.

“Not quite, Miss Kekoa.” He held my hand up, bringing my palm to his lips. After placing a small kiss on my sensitive lifeline, he said, “It’s a 10-carat natural emerald, with 5 carat diamonds in the halo and eternity band.”

I blinked at the unusual, gaudy ring.

It was so over-the-top, just like the man himself. It wasn't to my taste. I didn’t wear jewelry because it didn’t go with my image. But maybe my taste wasn’t what was important here. The ring should embody my groom, and nothing was more “Eoghan Green” than a big ass emerald that no one would miss.

“It was my mother’s,” he finally said, placing my hand on his chest, the damn stone glinting back at me.

“I… you can’t give me this!” I was overwhelmed by the urge to remove it from my hand and get it back into the expensive velvet box it must have normally resided in.

It needed to be in a museum; or at least a safety deposit box, behind fireproof walls, and tempered glass, surrounded by bodyguards.

“Your mother’s…” The images of Isla Green’s end flashed through my mind. Photographs strewn about a cheap government desk. Her face, her eyes… her misery.

He placed his hand over my overladen hand.

“You can’t take it off now, love. You’ve accepted my proposal.” Eoghan’s smile faded away. “I’ll be very disappointed if I see this hand bare.”

He reached out with his free hand, taking my chin between his index finger and thumb.

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