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I grab the sink as a wave of wooziness passes over me. Master. It’s a word I should hate and snub my nose at. But there’s something about it that lights me up. I don’t know why. I’m not sure I want to.

I go down to the kitchen, ignoring the box of cereal on the counter and the piece of paper with an arrow pointing to the fridge with milk in block letters beneath it.

Lucie is a little cool when I walk into the living room, but I take a breath and say, “I’m sorry.”

Her smile’s like sunshine. “It scared me. I called Cal but he said Torin was already on it. Running doesn’t work, FYI.”

It does, but I don’t say that. She must not know what Torin is all about. I’m about to make some idle chitchat when she speaks again. “I have a list of places where we need to go. And I’ll add in a few more stores. I’ve got a card so we can shop like mad if you want. Callahan pretends to hate it when I do.”

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “I also booked an appointment for our hair in Williamsburg, so we’ll be looking fabulous for our date tonight.”

“Date?” That sparks worry. “Tonight?”

“We’re all going out. Something about the first public outing as husband and wife.” She hesitates. “Just do what he asks, it’ll make things easier. And please don’t try to run again, Hazel. It will only make things worse.”

The front door bangs open and the German shepherd bounds in, leash trailing behind him. Declan appears in sweats. “Give me five for a shower.”

I frown. “You’re coming?”

“Run once,” he says, “and you don’t get to do it again. Tor’s rules.”

The black cat saunters up to us, yawns, and stretches.

“Y’know, Luce, he might be getting a little… round,” Declan says, nodding at the cat. “Hey, how about we get Clawzilla a harness and he can join me and Arnold on our runs.”

Clawzilla turns to hiss at him like she knows exactly what he just suggested.

“Do you expect a fashion show?” I ask the moment I step foot into Torin’s room hours later. I am completely exhausted fromour whirlwind shopping spree. He sits on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, fingers clacking on a laptop.

The grim, determined expression on his face unnerves me.

I slide my eyes away from him. There’s a box on the bed from a very expensive boutique and a smaller box that I’m sure contains jewelry.

I carefully set down the bags I’m carrying.

“Not my style.” His gaze flicks to me. “At least, not the fashion show you’re thinking of.” He frowns at me before he goes back to his computer. “I told you to get your hair done.”

Jesus, his words are like a pin pricking a balloon. And I don’t even know why I care. I’ve never gone to a salon like the hip one Lucie took me to. The stylist was amazing. She gave me a cut that kept the length but gave me layers and bounce. And then she weaved magic to make my hair shine.

My eyes blur for a moment.

I blink the extra moisture away. I don’t care what Torin thinks. He’s the worst.

“We’re going out tonight. You’ll wear the dress and the lingerie and the rings.”

“They might be too big or too small.” I glare at him and stalk to the box, ripping it open. The jeweler is famous, and as I open it, an icy sensation winds through my insides.

A beautiful gold wedding band with diamonds and a gorgeous square cut diamond engagement ring wink at me, the facets glittering in the soft glow of light.

They slide on easily, and while not perfect, they fit well enough.

I hold up my hand. “Great. Now I’m announcing I’m someone’s property. How exciting for me.”

He looks up at me once more and I catch the gold on his ring finger. “Now you’re getting it. Now get ready, we’re going out for drinks and thenmeeting my family.”

“I’ve met them.”

“Don’t,” he says, “be cute.”