Fyre & Revenge by Mina Carter Page B

JJ. Blackmailed me.”
    JJ had the
grace to wince a little.
    “That was badly
done,” he admitted, leaning one hand on the wall behind her and
bracketing her with his larger body. He
did
feel a little
bad about that, but not too much. He’d wanted her too much…he
stopped; he
had
wanted her, not just because of this will
thing. He just plain and simply wanted her. Even without that, even
without their past history or without the concert to use as
leverage, he’d have gone all out to get her into his bed.
    “I wanted you
too much, I couldn’t wait. I saw a way to get you and I used it.”
His smile was sheepish, hiding a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
    “Can you blame
me for that? For wanting you? Wanting you naked in my bed, naked
under me… Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His voice
was soft and beguiling. He could play this game. Seduction 101;
tell them what they wanted to hear.
    So why did he
feel his life depended on getting this right? His chest tightened
as she continued to look at him with that hard look, her arms
crossed over her chest. She wasn’t buying it. He had to up the
stakes. So be it. He knew just how to do that. Pushing off the wall
he smiled at her, going down on one knee and reaching into his
pocket for a small velvet box. He snapped it open and held it out
to her.
    “Zette,
regardless of the way our relationship started off, I can’t think
of anyone else I would ask this question of. Marry me.”
    She blinked,
silence stretching between them as she looked from the box to him
and back again. Ruthlessly he quashed the unease trying to settle
in his chest. She would go for it, she had to go for it. He’d laid
his plans too carefully for her not too. And she was a woman wasn’t
she? They all loved a bit of romance, and the glitter of a diamond
solitaire. Then he pulled his trump card, emotion.
    “It belonged to
my grandmother, on my mother’s side. She was a sweet woman, I just
remember her as a kid. She’d have liked you, wanted you to have
it.”
    That did it.
His hawk-like attention on her face picked up the slight change in
her expression, the softening in her eyes as she reached a finger
out to touch the antique ring. She didn’t speak, the tell-tale
shine of tears in her dark eyes as she nodded.
    Triumph gripped
him hard, so hard he felt like punching the air and doing a lap of
honour around the terrace. Not something he’d do in a million
years, so he had no idea where the impulse had come from. He hadn’t
felt that way since he was a teenager and his team had hit a home
run.
    He didn’t give
her a chance to change her mind, taking her hand and pulling the
ring from the box. He’d measured her one night as she’d slept and
had it altered specially, so he knew it would be a perfect fit even
before he slipped it on her finger. And it did, sliding onto her
finger as though it had been made for her.
    “Thank you,” he
breathed, gathering her into his arms with a possessive tenderness
that was new. Must be something to do with the moment, he decided.
After all it wasn’t every day a guy got engaged, had to get
engaged. Regardless of the reasons she was his now, his woman and
soon to be his wife. That waiter who’d been making calf eyes at her
earlier would be getting the sharp side of his tongue if he tried
his luck again!
    She spread her
fingers out, admiring the rock that sat on her wedding finger.
    “It’s
beautiful, thank you…” Her voice was clogged with emotion, a low
husky sound that set his body on fire just hearing it. “I can’t
believe you’d give me this. Not something of your grandmother’s.
That’s so personal—”
    He didn’t let
her carry on, pulling her up against him to kiss her. He needed to
kiss her, more than he needed his next breath. Of course, she would
be expecting him to, after having proposed and all. His lips
descended, claimed hers. She was like honey and silk, the faint
aftertaste of champagne lingering on her lips as he teased