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The next day, I had a talk with her parents. I told them I wanted their blessing but that either way, I was going to marry Hazel. I promised to take care of her, to love her, to give her everything her heart desired. Apparently, my passionate plea convinced them. Then her mother told me that our story wasn‘t so different from their own.
They called my girl into the room, and I got down on one knee to propose. Her whole face lit up, and she threw herself into my arms with a shout of “Jamison! Yes! Yes!” I laughed and stood, spinning her around.
I gave her a chaste kiss, mindful of the parental eyes watching us. Then I took the round, five-carat, peach sapphire on a rose gold band covered in tiny diamonds and slipped it on her delicate finger. Hazel had gasped, her face awash with shock. After a moment, her expression turned troubled.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“It’s lovely,” she responded, her tone genuine. But it didn’t erase the look on her face.
“You don’t have to keep it, Hazel,” I assured her. “You can have whatever you want. This just reminded me of you, peaches.”
Hazel’s expression had brightened, and she sent a soft look my way before shrugging sheepishly. “It’s so big and expensive. What if I lose it?”
I couldn’t help it; I threw my head back and laughed so hard that a tear leaked from the side of one eye. When I finally got ahold of myself, Hazel was watching me with an annoyed glint in her eye and her hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry, peaches. I guess we haven’t really talked about it, but you are officially a billionaire, sweetheart. If you lose it, we’ll just buy you another one.”
Her jaw had dropped, and it was so adorable I had to sweep her up into my arms and kiss her until her father cleared his throat and tapped me on the shoulder.
“Save it for the wedding night, dear,” her mother wisecracked.
Since that was the plan, I knew I needed to get my ass in gear and make the wedding happen. Fast. I called in every favor and used every ounce of my power to threaten, cajole, or blackmail people so I could give Hazel a Cinderella wedding in one month.
Unfortunately, some of the preparations needed to be handled in person, so I’d hired her a bodyguard immediately. However, even then, it had still been nearly impossible to go back to the city without her. I had a security system installed and had considered adding a camera to her bedroom, but I didn’t want to risk her finding it and send her running before I got my wedding band on her finger.
I threw myself into the merger of my business and planning the most spectacular wedding since whichever royal got married recently and topped whichever one came before. The true miracle was securing St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral for the ceremony. Luckily, I’d been a good Catholic boy growing up. And though I hadn’t been back to church other than Christmas and Easter for years, I’d maintained a relationship with the priests. Plus, the marriage coordinator was my cousin. It also didn’t hurt that I’d been a big donor already, and I promised to basically finance an entire major renovation in order to fast-track our wedding.
The reception had been at The Plaza, with the best of everything, and a guest list that rivaled the biggest A-list movie stars. I made sure my Hazel was the belle of the fucking ball.
I’d grown up in Queens, and all the glitz and glam wasn’t really my scene, despite the billions in my bank account. But Hazel was worth it. She was worth everything.
Which was why I found myself at another stuffy charity ball, suffering through the sleazeballs that hid their depravity behind their money ogling my wife.
From the moment we’d left our Upper West Side townhouse, all I wanted to do was grab Hazel and run back inside and never leave. I hated sharing her, and after the news we’d received two days ago, I was feeling even more protective. You’d think knocking my wife up would ease the possessive bastard inside me. I mean, besides a ring, what else screamed “taken” better than a pregnant belly? However, it had done the opposite. I was more obsessed with my wife than ever, and every day it was a struggle to rein myself in.
“Jamie?” Hazel’s soft, sweet voice floated up to my ears, making my cock swell. Generally, I fucking hated that nickname, but I loved the way she said it. Then again, I loved the way Hazel said or did anything.
“What do you need, peaches?” I asked with a soft kiss on her temple. She sighed and leaned into me, and I tightened my arm around her waist. My eyes swept over her face, and I frowned at how pale she looked. Her green eyes had weary lines around them, and the sparkle that had drawn me to her from the beginning had dulled.
