Page 47 of Mafia Captor

“I picked it out myself.” God. I sound like a damn kid trying to impress his girlfriend.

I hand her the ring. She takes it carefully, holds it up, pinched between her forefinger and thumb. Her eyes fill with what looks like awe as she turns it, letting the sunlight hit the gemstone.

My heart does a weird pulsing thing. I feel anxious. I’m never anxious. I can’t take her staring at it any longer.

“Well.” I don’t mean to sound tense, but I am. “What do you think?”

She hands it back to me. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never, ever seen a ring like that. And the black gold? It’s outrageous. Just gorgeous. I mean, I couldn’t pull it off, but it would look so good on someone like you. You did really well. But who’s it for?”

What? Isn’t it obvious? Who else would I have designed a ring for? A creeping feeling of doubt edges up my spine. She doesn’t like it.

Do I pull back? Laugh it off? Pretend I had it reset as a gift for a distant relative? No. I do something totally, completely, idiotic.

“You.” I hand the ring back to her.

She doesn’t accept it. She just stares at me. Her pouty lips are doing that little “O” thing that makes my cock throb.

It doesn’t throb now, though. I’m too damn nervous. God, this girl. When she’s not making me think about fucking her, she’s making me too nervous to think about fucking her.

Maddening.

“Don’t you get it?” I grab her left hand, holding it up in the air. She watches, wide-eyed, as I slip the ring on the fourth finger of her hand.

She shakes her head. “I don’t understand?”

“I don’t want anyone looking at you. I don’t want anyone talking to you. I don’t—” Heat boils through my veins. “Iwon’tlet anyone touch you. Ever.”

She stares at the ring. She stares up at me. She holds her hand so the ring is facing me. “Boston… is this your idea of a… aproposal?”

The ring looks so good on her. Like it was made for her. Which it was. By me. I give it a second look. The black gold doesn’t do her sun-kissed skin justice. She should be wearing gold.

I can take care of that later. At least the ring is on her finger, where it belongs.

I take her hand, bringing it to my lips. I kiss her fingers. “Ashe. Marry me.”

“Oh my… this doesn’t feel… right. I mean, I don’t even know you. Not really. You’re really asking me to marry you?” She blinks, shaking her head, like she’s trying to wake from a dream.

“No. I’m telling you to.” I stare into her eyes. Grab her face in my hands. I bring my lips to hers, and I kiss her. At first, she resists me, overwhelmed by everything that just happened. I pull her closer, kiss her deeper. She gives in, slipping her arms around my neck, running her hand through my hair. Her body presses against me, longing for me, like I’m yearning for her.

God, I’ve missed this so much the past couple days. Watching her walk around my house, looking like she belongs but knowing she’s got one foot out the door… not being able to touch her. It’s been maddening.

I run my hands over her back. I cup her ass, hungry to make up for lost time. I enjoy the fullness I’ve missed so much, holding her curves in my hands. I push up against her, needing her pressure against my cock.

“What are you doing?” She grabs my hands, pushing them away from her body. She tosses a furtive glance over her shoulder. “We’re in public.”

I go back in to kiss her, but she puts a hand to my chest, stopping me. “You don’t even have my answer yet.”

“I didn’t ask.” I lift her hand, showing her the ring. “I put a ring on it.”

She takes a step back. “You know I have rules. And one of them is that a proposal takes a knee. The other would be I actually have to know the guy for more than a few days to say yes.” There they go, her hands sliding up to her gold-covered hips. She pulls the stance out on me, giving me that look she has that means she is not budging.

“Fine.” I drop down on my right knee. I grab her hands from her hips and hold them in mine. I stare up at her. “Ashe. I can’t live without you. Marry me.”

She just stares.

Uh-oh.

This isn’t good.

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