Page 67 of The Billionaire's Promise

"Really?" He trailed a finger down across my collarbone to dip into the wrap neckline of the dress, his finger disappearing beneath the fabric to slide inside my lace bra. I shivered.

"Really. You look hot in anything. Even those men's pajamas you still had from college. But this dress is almost criminal. And those shoes. Fuck, Magnolia. I don't know whether to thank Charlie or yell at her for picking it out."

"Why would you yell at her?" I asked, enjoying our last few moments of privacy.

"You didn't see the way the men in there were looking at you. I don't care if you have my ring on your finger—you're not leaving my side for the rest of the night."

"I've always thought of you as a Viking," I said, "but right now, you remind me more of a caveman."

Voices filtered into the quiet night as people entered the garden, eager to see the work they'd been told had been 'held back' for a special viewing. Charlie emerged from the crowd and rushed forward, her hand reaching for mine. She lifted my fingers to the light and turned them, first one way, then the other, examining my ring.

"I knew it would be gorgeous. Did he grovel?" she demanded. "I hope you made him grovel."

"Hey!" Vance said, taking my hand from Charlie and pressing it to his chest. He held it in place with his own, the strong beat of his heart thumping beneath my fingers. "Stop manhandling my fiancée. And stop encouraging her to mess with me."

"You deserve it," Charlie said, uncowed by Vance's dark expression. "You were an ass."

"I was," Vance admitted. "And I groveled a little."

"Did he?" She asked me.

"A little. Enough. He groveled exactly enough," I said. People milled around us, murmuring. One brave soul ventured close enough to ask, "Is the gazebo available?"

When Vance curtly answered, "No. It's a gift," she said,

"Will you make one on commission?"

Before he could offend the woman, I jumped in to say, "If you'll give Sloane your contact information, he'll let you know after the show. He's just a little tense tonight." I sent her a sympathetic smile. "You know how artists are. He gets jittery when he has a show."

She nodded sagely and promised she'd find Sloane. Charlie was stifling a giggle, and Vance gave my waist a hard squeeze. "The only time in my entire fucking life that I've ever had the jitters was when you wouldn't agree to marry me."

"You said no?" Charlie cut in.

"She turned him down?" I heard over my shoulder. I turned to see Aiden behind us, frowning at Vance. "You fucked it up, man? How?"

"I did not fuck it up," Vance growled, lifting my hand from where he had it tucked to his chest and showing Aiden my ring. "She said yes. She just made me wait first. I think she wanted to torture me."

"I wasn't trying to torture you," I protested. "I was in shock. I wasn't expecting a proposal."

"That's my fault," Vance whispered in my ear. "You should have been expecting it. I should never have let you wonder about how much I love you."

I melted into him. How long did we have to stay at the show? My sensible side said we had to stay to the end. The newly engaged woman who'd spent the previous night crying into her pillow wanted to jump the wall and sneak off to have sex with her fiancée.

At the moment, I liked her much better than my sensible side. I nudged Vance with my elbow and said, "Hey, do you want to sneak out? What's Sloane going to do, fire you?"

Vance's blue eyes went electric and he lowered his mouth to mine. His tongue was tracing my lower lip when I heard from behind me, "Maggie! I need to talk to you, baby."

I turned to see Brayden, wearing a suit and sporting a black eye, stalking across the walled garden to the gazebo. Every person in earshot fell silent. Wonderful. Almost everyone here knew me, knew Brayden, and knew our sad drama of cheating and a broken engagement.

Atlanta was a big city, but my corner of it sometimes felt like a small town. Vance shifted to put himself between Brayden and me. I stepped to the side. I wasn't afraid of Brayden, but I was curious to know what he wanted.

"Why aren't you in jail?" I asked. A gasp went up from the crowd. I couldn't say I didn't enjoy the heck out of that. I was tired of playing the rejected girlfriend. A stint in jail made being dumped the far lesser crime.

"Maggie, how could you have me arrested?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of me. "I need you to drop the charges, baby. This was all a misunderstanding. You just need to let me explain."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. He was completely insane if he thought there was any explanation for what he'd done. I told him so.

"You're crazy. You were stealing from me. You stole my grandmother's bracelet, her clock, and more. Your backpack was stuffed full when you were arrested. I'm not dropping anything. You can rot in jail for all I care. I hope you do."