Page 26 of French Martini

“Okay.” I fold my coat over my arm. “What’s up?”

He chuckles, continuing to close in on me. Not gonna lie, the way he’s low-key dominant right now is doing it for me.

“Got something for you, beautiful.”

Swallowing, I nod. “Oh?”

“I hope you like it. It’s in my front pocket.”

“And? Are you expecting me to retrieve it?”

Oakley backs me up until I bump into the desk. “Would you please? Left side.”

I’d like to be annoyed, but I can’t summon that particular emotion when he’s this close to me. He smells good, the cold winter air clinging to his clothes, the scent of his beard oil tickling my nose. Curiosity wins out and I reach down to dig into his pocket. My eyes widen when I find the telltale shape of a small velvet box.

“Oakley?”

“Take a look, kitten.”

The nickname spreads over me like a warm blanket. I told him not to use it during the day, but we are alone so I’ll let it slide. This time.

I retrieve the box, hoping this man didn’t spend his hard-earned money on a ruse to trick people who don’t matter because I’m too insecure to face them.

“Open it,” he says.

I set my coat on the desk then crack the lid open. My jaw drops.

“Oakley,” I whisper. “How on earth…? Where did you get this?”

“My uncle is a jeweler. I called him this morning and he had a few things in stock he could loan me. I didn’t pick the biggest one, but I chose the highest quality and the most unique, because…” He pauses as his gaze softens and his brow crinkles.

“Because?”

“That’s what I’d look for if this was real.”

Oh. Dang it. I direct my gaze to the ring again, if only to try and hide my burning cheeks. Stupid tell.

“It’s ten carats,” he says. “Cushion cut. He said the clarity was almost the best money can buy. It’s rose gold. I hope you like that. It’s unusual, he said.”

“It’s truly stunning. How much does it cost?”

“Sure you want to know?”

I nod. “In case anything happens.”

“Seven hundred and fifty.”

“Thousand?” I nod. “Of course. It’s too much.”

“It’s what they’d expect, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can I put it on you?”

My breath hitches, but I hand the box back to him with a small nod.

Oakley carefully removes the ring from the dark blue box and sets it on the desk behind me. Then he takes my left hand in his and slides the ring onto my ring finger, holding my gaze.

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