Page 197 of Morally Black Betrothal
“My soul is as black as night. But you make me feel like the sun, angel. Like maybe I can be saved after all. Like maybe I’m worth saving.” He swallowed hard, the movement making the tense muscles in his neck quiver. “I’ll go through fire for you—I proved that, didn’t I? But it never occurred to me until yesterday that you might do the same for me.”
The tears started again, hot and fast. “B-but I would. Brendan, I’d go through anything for you.”
He wouldn’t let me sink to the ground with him. Instead, he stood back up and cupped my face with those broad, capable hands. “I know, my sweet angel. I know.”
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. When he opened it, I couldn’t breathe.
It was a ring. An engagement ring, but of a different sort, and one that was very familiar to me. It had once belonged to my mother.
“You…you found it?”
He smiled. “The rest of it’s waiting in your jewelry box. Ruth and I tracked it through the pawnbroker Ezra sold it to in Woonsocket. Brought it home for you this afternoon.”
The band was a delicate gold the color of summer wheat, engraved with lines that looked like feathers. Like birds in flight. Or maybe an angel’s wings.
My mom had worn it for so long, but looking at it, it was the right thing to wear now. It looked like me. It looked like us.
When he tilted it toward the light, I could see words inscribed on the interior:my angel, my love. Once from my father to my mom. Now from Brendan to me.
“Your father gave me permission. This time, I wanted to do it right.” Brendan removed the ring from the box and took my left hand. “This time, it’s just for us.”
I watched, almost out of my body, as he slipped the ring past my knuckle to where it fit snugly. Perfectly. Like that was exactly where it was meant to be.
“Say no. Say yes. I’ll be with you no matter what.” Brendan’s voice shook with the wind. “But will you be mine, angel? Will you marry me for real this time?”
“Yes.” I sobbed, and then I was flinging my arms around him with so much force, I almost knocked over his tall, solid form.
But Brendan caught me. Like I had a feeling he always would.
When we broke apart, the grin on his face could have lit up all of Boston. And the laughter I heard—the sound of pure joy coming from this dark-hearted man—would fuel my fantasies for years to come.
I looked up at him, at this beautiful, complicated, broken man who’d chosen me above everything else, and felt desire curl hot in my belly.
“Mine,” he whispered before his mouth found mine. “All mine.”
He backed me against the railing, and his arousal was there again, if it had ever disappeared. It quickly became obvious he was more than ready to consummate our marriage early, right here on the deck where Abigail, John, or anyone else who owned binoculars could see us.
And for a moment, I almost let him.
Until reality crashed back in.
“Brendan.”
His teeth sank into my earlobe. “Mmm. Different kind of talking right now.”
“But—”
His tongue swirled on my neck. “Do I need to repeat myself, angel?”
“No, but—” With significant struggle, I managed to grab his shoulders and push him back. “Brendan, please listen.”
He straightened with a dazed expression. “What’s wrong, baby? Who do I need to take care of now?”
Maybe it shouldn’t have turned me on, the way he was ready to demolish anyone else who threatened our happiness, but it did.
If I lit up Brendan Black’s heart, it was possible he darkened mine.
Most strange of all, I didn’t think it was a bad thing. Not if it made me more able to say what I needed.
