Page 59 of Ruthless Financier
She motioned with her head to come inside and my feet proceeded to walk a little lighter. As she closed the door, I said, “You never checked your messages.”
She lifted and released her shoulders like she didn’t care. “It’s just the front desk on the missed call list. I’d deal with whatever the building issue is later—”
Security knocked on the door and her eyebrows wrinkled. I needed to set the right tone for romance and hope—not like last night, when I’d been angry. She opened the door and the security guard pushed a cart with six bouquets of flowers into her condo. She pressed her hand to her heart and stared at me as she asked the obvious. “Are those flowers?”
“Yes,” I said, and then handed a second tip to the guard.
Once he left, I squared my shoulders. We were alone.
She smelled the red roses and closed her eyes. My skin electrified as I fixed my tie and said, “Okay.”
I bounced on my feet. This was the moment I’d waited for. I reached into my pocket, brushing against the ring box, as I said, “I wasn’t sure what you’d consider romantic, but I wanted to try.”
She played with the collar of her shirt and asked, “Try what?”
I wrapped my fingers around the velvet box and ignored the nervousness in my voice as I said, “Everything in my power.”
She brushed her fingertips against the flowers and said, “Okay. Well, these are beautiful.”
Those were the tip of the iceberg. I stepped forward and ignored the fast pulsing of my veins as I said, “And I came to tell you I love you. I don’t want a divorce. I want to tear up the contract and I want us to live together, for the rest of our lives.”
Her eyes welled with tears as she trembled. “You don’t have to say that.”
I showed her the engagement and wedding ring set I’d bought for her this morning and said, “I do. I bought you a ring.”
She took my hand and more tears washed down her cheek, but she said, “Stop.”
I forced myself to step back to give her space and put my hand in my pocket. I didn’t blink, though, as I said, “I can’t.”
This was it. I ignored how tight my stomach and insides were. I’d not been this nervous in years, but I said, “I’ve never been in love with anyone before. And I’m used to winning.”
She wiped her face and threw her arms around my neck as she said, “You already did. I love you.”
Wait. She loved me? My head had a hard time believing that. She’d left. Without saying goodbye. Her holding me now sent a shockwave through me as I slowly wrapped my arm around her. I said, “You didn’t yesterday.”
“I did.” She rested her head on my shoulder and her lips were close to my skin as she said, “It was on the tip of my tongue, but I was afraid.”
My eyebrows narrowed and I squeezed her. “Of what?”
She leaned away from me, but stayed in my arms, as she met my gaze. “That I’d turn into my mother, who never voiced an opinion other than ‘yes, whatever you say.’”
Indigo as the silent type had never crossed my mind. I ran my hand up and down her spine as I said, “My mom was nothing like that.”
She turned and pointed me toward her white couch, and held my hand as she led me over to sit. I followed her as she asked, “What was she like?”
The best person in the world. She said she loved me, every day. I settled on the couch and said, “She was proud, stubborn, independent and didn’t care what anyone said about her.”
Her lips curled higher on the face and she said, “Sounds like I’d like her.”
I patted her knee and leaned in as my stomach slowly unknotted. I said, “In a few small ways, you’re like her.”
Her integrity was her most important possession. I laughed and glanced at the white ceiling as I said, “You walked away from money.”
Her eyes widened and her face went white. “It wasn’t mine to take, and I’ve always fixed my own problems.”
Exactly what my mom might have said. Indigo was a keeper and I scooted closer as I said, “Now you can … with more money behind you.”
She squeezed my thigh and said, “That still feels weird to me, but we’ll talk about that later.”
