Page 75 of Vow of Vengeance

“I meant to ask you—” He stops speaking and stares at me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.

I’m suddenly overwhelmed.

Learning about my father, meeting Freya, and being at the castle again is a lot. I need comfort; I need to be close to him. I wrap my arms around his neck. I want a hug, a kiss, to crawl into bed and snuggle for an hour.

“Kiss me,” I beg. “Make the whole world go away like you do.”

"Always," he says. “And only for you.”

His intense gaze softens into a warm stare, heating me from the inside out. I know what's coming, and the anticipation is almost as thrilling as the feeling of the actual kiss when his lips meet mine.

Everything else fades away at this moment.

I love how he does this—how he makes the world disappear until it's just me and him. Us.

His tongue expertly explores my mouth, murmuring past my lips, “I love the way you taste.”

“Same,” I say. “All man, clean and powerful and sexy. And you smell just as good as you taste.”

“Damn, girl. You know how to make a man feel like one.” He deepens the kiss and holds me closer. I lightly scratch my fingertips over the back of his head, getting lost in the tangle of his soft hair. He gives a soft growl. “God, I love it when you do that.”

He begins to run his hands over my body with an urgency I don’t fully understand. His hands are all over me, smoothing, grasping, kneading my curves. My own desperate fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, running over his broad shoulders and down his back.

He breaks the kiss only long enough to whisper to me, “I want to know if you’re wearing panties or not.” He slips his hand down the back of my jeans, then goes back to kissing me while squeezing my bare ass.

His hips press close, and I can feel his arousal pressing hard against me. I’m fully consumed by an overwhelming need to lose myself entirely to him. Then I remember where I am.

This kiss—it’s getting out of hand.

Freya’s not seen me in over a decade, and this is not how I want her to find me—with my boyfriend’s hands down the back of my jeans. I mean, my fiancé’s hand? What are we? Either way, I don’t want her seeing him wandering down the back of my jeans.

As everyone at school says—it’s complicated.

I pull away, breathless. “What did you want to ask me?” I watch as he moves. He’s dropping down onto one knee. Now, he’s slipping something from his pocket.

“If you like this or now.” He flips open the lid of a small black jewelry box, exposing a silver ring with a green turquoise oval in its center. “It’s just for now. I wasn’t sure what kind of ring girls your age like, but we’ll replace it with whatever you like.”

It’s unique and special and gorgeous. Instantly, I want to hold it. I lift the ring from the box. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“Really? You do?” He stares up at me, smiling so hard his dimple shows.

“I do.” I turn the ring, taking in every detail.

Blue and brown veins run through the stone. But what does it mean? It’s not like a typical engagement ring—when a man opens a box to reveal a diamond, a woman knows his intentions.

He’s clearly down on one knee, but nothing is obvious when it comes to Haze.

Is this a gift? Or a step toward our future?

“I love it,” I say. “But tell me more about what it means?”

There’s a sense of urgency in his voice. “You told me to be a better man. Now I am. I’m keeping my promise. I’m asking, not demanding.” Then he answers my question: “Will you marry me?”

I stare down at the ring, knowing it holds the weight of my future. “Marry you…”

Suddenly, my stomach is a charm of hummingbirds and my knees are missing, and my legs are weak. I’m so drawn to him. I can’t fight it.

Yet…

---