Page 10 of Seal My Fate

“Cheers,” I say, raising my glass.

“What are we toasting to?” Saint lifts an eyebrow, looking devastatingly handsome in a crisp button-down shirt and black denim, his casual uniform of choice.

“To us,” I say, meeting his eyes in a smile. “And unexpected blessings.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Saint clinks his glass to mine and takes a swallow. “Everything about you is unexpected, Tessa Peterson.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it, but I just smile. “Says the man who keeps a Taylor Swift record hidden in the back of the case. Yes, I found it,” I add, smirking. “You’re going to have to work harder to hide your guilty pleasures, now I’m living under the same roof.”

“Who’s guilty?” Saint retorts, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “You know me, darling. I embrace all my pleasures wholeheartedly. And for the record,folkloreis an underrated classic.”

I laugh. “Power tools, pop music… I’m learning all kinds of new things about you,professor,” I tease.

“What about you?” Saint asks, fixing me with a sizzling gaze. “What have you been hiding from me?”

Wren.

I bite back my biggest secret, and pretend to think, instead. “Hmm… You’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you? You have a pretty good track record learning all my dirty little secrets,” I add, giving him a sultry look. “Sometimes, I think you can read my mind. You seem to know what I’m thinking, what Iwant, better than I even do myself.”

That first party, sitting in the dark with me legs spread to him and my gaze locked on his… In the club, pinned against his body as a soft, foreign mouth slowly licked me into a frenzy… On my back in that ornamental maze, coming my brains out under the stars…

Somehow, Saint has given life to the desires I’d only ever dreamed about; taken my breathless fantasies and made them real. Madememore real: A woman who pursues her own pleasure, and claims it without shame; discovering more about my own thrilling, sensual needs with every passing day.

I meet his eyes across the candlelit table, reveling in the sizzle of chemistry in the air between us. “So, what am I thinking now?” I ask, flirty.

Saint’s mouth curls in a wolfish grin. “Things that would get us thrown out of this place before they even bring the food.”

“Correct.”

He leans over, and draws me in for a slow, steamy kiss. “All in good time, darling,” he tells me softly. “The night is young. And I have something for you.”

I straighten in anticipation, wondering if it’s some sexy, playful new toy. But Saint pulls a velvet jewelry box out of his jacket pocket, and places it on the table, nudging it over to me. “Open it,” he says, and I blink.

The box looks expensive: deep blue, and discreet. “Saint…” I start, feeling self-conscious. “You’ve already given me so much…”

But he nudges the box again. I take it, and slowly lift the lid.

I gasp.

Inside, is nestled a gorgeous necklace: a delicate platinum chain, with a small bird pendant, bejeweled with diamonds and emeralds. As I lift it out, the pendant swings, jewels catching in the candlelight like the bird is taking flight.

“Saint…” I whisper, overcome. “It’s beautiful.”

“The bird is for Wren,” he says softly. “So you can carry her with you, always.”

My guilt sparks again, but it’s overwhelmed with affection that Saint would search out a gift that has so much meaning to me. “I love it,” I swear. “I love you. Thank you.”

Saint gets up, rounding the table to help me fasten the delicate clasp around my neck. The pendant nestles in my cleavage, glittering. “You see, I decided to give peoplemoreexcuses to look at your chest,” he murmurs playfully, and I laugh, glad to lighten the mood.

“They can look, but you’re the only one who gets to touch tonight,” I tell him, flirty. “In fact… I love the diamonds, but I’m thinking I need a pearl necklace to go with the gift.”

Saint hisses a breath, his gaze drifting over me. My body tightens in response, waiting for him to say the word for us to get out of here, somewhere we can be alone.On my knees. Mouth open, and ready for his cock…

But when Saint holds out his hand to me, it’s not to yank me from the club. “Later, darling. First… I want to dance.”

“Dance?” I echo, surprised. In all the time I’ve spent with Saint, I can’t recall seeing him anywhere near a dance floor.

“Come on.”

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