The Satin Sash (36 page)

It was over before she even knew it.

They sat undisturbed in a shadowed nook of the restaurant, and all Grey said, a second before they strolled out of the place, was, “Smile.” And she smiled. Blinding flashes exploded before her eyelids.Then Grey was tucking her into his Porsche, and they were driving off, the camera lights fading in the distance.

Neither spoke a word until they got home.

Toni went to her vanity, plucked off one diamond stud earring, then quietly set it down and said, “Why did we just do that?”

Without a backward glance, Grey whipped off his shirt and threw it in the hamper.

“Because of the IPO? Grey, people will buy a piece of your company because it rocks.You
make
it rock, Heath makes it rock. They’ll buy it because you make them money—they won’t care if you’re the craziest person on the planet or not.” When his hands went to his belt, the concentrated frown on his face spurred her on. “And it’s not about money, either. I hear you talking about off-shores all the time; it’s like you have so much, you don’t even know where to put it.”

He made neither acknowledgment nor denial, but he was listening, so she shimmied out of her cocktail dress and plunged on.

“So why is it?” she insisted.

He yanked off his belt while Toni grabbed his old T-shirt and popped her head inside. “Is it that you can’t stand that people may think less of you?”

He thrust his legs into his cotton drawstring pants, then turned his back to her as he hung his slacks.

“Or is it him, Grey?”

He crossed the room toward the bed, leaving a lamp on by the nightstand. His long, strong arm was already waiting for her by the time she lifted the sheets and slipped into his embrace.“I don’t feel like discussing my father tonight,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose as though to gentle the directness of his words.

She gazed into his golden eyes, noted the low set of his eyebrows, the worried crease on his forehead.

“Grey, look at you,” she marveled as she sat up, her heart exploding with love for him. “Look at this incredible man you are! I swear I quiver every time I see you. Not because of these eyes, this hair, this body, baby, but because of the mesmerizing man that you are! If you haven’t proven yourself to your father by now, there’s nothing you’ll ever be able to do to please that man.”

“I am aware of that,Toni.”

“Then why do you still try to please him? All these people?”

The rigidness in his body increased tenfold, and as the silence lengthened, Toni figured he was not planning to answer her. He clicked off the light, his hand stroking up and down the back of her head when she lay back down, and then he let go a breath.

“I don’t want to
please
him. I want to be a better man than he is.”

Chapter Fifteen

Duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Heath shuffled among the line of people boarding the aircraft. He sank down in the window seat on aisle eleven, stuck his bag under the front seat, and rubbed his sweaty palms over his jeans. No drugs. He could do it, of course. Pop them at any time. But he wouldn’t.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to
kiss
an airplane. This was the carrier that would take him to her.And he would not leave again. He would not fucking leave her
ever
.Whatever Grey said, he was staying. If he had to eat shit, he’d eat shit. If he had to fight Grey, goddammit, he didn’t want to, but he would.

He patted his right pocket, his two pills neatly tucked inside. Next he went to his left pocket and produced the red sash.

The fabric slid like a familiar skin against him, its scent memorized in his lungs. What did it mean, this present she’d given him? Why had she given it to
him
? She wanted him. She wanted him
with
her. Did she feel what he felt? Did she care about him?

Whatever she wanted, he would not say no. Oh no, he would not say no to his Cat.

“My, how pretty.”

He frowned, and it took him a moment to realize someone was speaking to him. Normally he would snore or ignore his flying companion.Why people loved to tell their life stories inside an aircraft was beyond him. But this time, he found himself turning his attention to the elderly woman who’d just settled in her seat beside him.

“It is,” he said cautiously as the plane doors slammed shut.

“Your wife’s?” she inquired.

He hesitated. “Her name is Antonia.” God, it was such a relief to tell somebody. Have someone to talk to about
her
.This little lady with the silvering hair and the crooked teeth was so sweet to ask.

“How long have you been married?” she asked, her wrinkled hands motionless on her lap.

“We’re not married.” He blinded her with a smile, a smile meant to make a woman even of her age blush. “Do you think she’d have me?” he baited.

He was so distracted watching the heat creep up her dainty neck that he didn’t notice they’d taxied until they took off. He cursed under his breath, tensing when the plane soared, the ground falling away beneath him.

His heart raced—not with dread this time, he realized, but with anticipation. The captain spoke, and when the speakers fell silent, Heath told the old lady, “So, was that a yes?”

She lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose and eyed him speculatively above the rims. “Yes.” She patted his cheek, her smile thin but honest. “You look vigorous.”

He propped his head back on the seat and gazed absently up at the head compartment. “I haven’t seen her in . . . well, hell, it’s almost three weeks.” He frowned. Only three weeks? It felt like forever.

“Three weeks is a long time. I’m going to see my grandsons, and I haven’t seen them in two years.”

Heath whistled through his teeth. “Two years? Really? Wow, that’s tough.”

She righted her glasses on her nose, her eyes lingering on the sash. “What are you going to do with it?” she asked.

Ahhh, that was easy. “Tie her to the bed with it and make her mine?”

Her eyes widened under her lenses, and he realized he shouldn’t have said that to a sweet old lady. So he smiled and did something unthinkable. He grabbed her hand, soft and wrinkled and looking like it would disintegrate in his, and said, “I’m going to tell her I love her.”

“Four-carat, E,VVS-one round brilliant.”

Inside a sumptuous jewelry store on Michigan Avenue, Grey grasped the tweezers being offered by the middle-aged jeweler and brought the loupe up to one eye. He gazed into the rock—a massive, blinding sparkler—and then looked up.“Am I supposed to see anything?”

“No, sir—it’s a VVS-one; it would be impossible to see the inclusions with a regular jeweler’s loupe.”

“Ahh.” Grey lowered the loupe and turned the tweezers around to glance at the diamond’s glinting tip. “It’s a bit too large for what I had in mind.”

“Nothing screams
money
like a big rock.”

“I don’t want it to scream
money
; I just want her to like it.”

“With a four-carat rock like that, the world will know your woman is loved by a rich, powerful man.”

Grey set it down on the black velvet-covered tray.“Is there something more subtle?”

The man tucked the stone back into a small, crinkling blue paper. “We could go to fancy. Colored diamonds are appreciated only by the finest connoisseurs.The ladies love the pink.”

Grey waited for the man to produce one.The bubble gum pink rock he revealed, although decently smaller than the last, struck him as perhaps a bit too girly for a woman. “She’s not that much of a pink lover,” he said pleasantly.

“Ahh, I have just the thing.” The jeweler fished into a discreet leather briefcase and presented another rock, one that was darker, brilliant. He secured it with the tweezers and handed it over. “We call it the Chameleon. Natural diamond. Will change color depending on the lighting.You’ll get colors ranging from the brightest green to a dark gray.”

“Gray?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A gray diamond. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Usually, sir, one never hears of these things until one is wanting to marry.” The old man smiled placidly from where he stood behind the low display case. “I take it she’s your first?”

“My only.” Grey studied the rock.

“That’s a two-carat, internally flawless oval cut. That baby is as pure as they come.”

Grey assessed it from every angle, admiring the way it refracted the overhead lights, taking in the color, the size, its flawlessness. He set it down.“I need a moment.” He pulled out his phone, dialed on automatic, and lifted it to his ear, casually eyeing the other patrons in the store as they peered into the jewelry cases while he waited for Louisa to answer. “Louisa. Can you come down to Fried’s for a moment? Michigan Avenue; a large, very fine store. I need your opinion on something.”

When he hung up, he smoothed his tie in place and paced the length of the store, his eyes roving the glass cases, occasionally pausing on a particularly brilliant jewel that caught his interest.
Patience, Grey, it is a virtue....

His lips curled when the words popped into his head. He could be the most patient man when it came to business deals; he could take weeks, months, years, to tailor matters to his specifications, shape them just as he wanted them. But in personal matters—more exactly, in
this
matter—he wasn’t feeling particularly at ease. Much less patient.

The memory of them posing three nights ago, smiling for those blasted cameras,Toni’s smile so stiff on her lips—a sad, forced smile she’d placed on her face because he’d
asked
her to put it there . . . Grey hated it. Loathed himself for having asked her to do it. Hated forcing Toni to bend to these people. She was right; it wasn’t their fucking business. And Grey
did
want to tell them to screw themselves. Them
and
his father.

She was so brave, so spirited, a fiery creature of passion and life. . . .

She’d have rather chowed on cement than placate the press, but she had done it for him. Out of love for him.Though he’d thought it impossible to love her any more than he already had, he did. He cherished her. Adored her.Wanted to,
needed
to, marry her.

By the time Louisa appeared through the sliding glass doors, flushed and excited and dressed indecently like always, he was simmering with impatience. Charging across the store to lead her to his corner, he sat her down on the upholstered chair next to his and briskly lifted the tweezers up to her line of vision. “It’s a gray diamond.”

Louisa’s expression was an interesting mix of awe and confusion that looked almost painful.

“Do you think Toni would like it?” Grey pressed.

She raised stunned blue eyes to his; she didn’t seem to be breathing. “Are . . . are you going to propose?”

“This is between you and me. What happens at . . .” He gave a meaningful glance at the store logo. “Fried’s, stays at Fried’s. Until the ring is on her finger.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you like it?”

After a timid moment, she took the tweezers between awkward fingers, gave the stone an expeditious look, then lowered her hand. “I just don’t believe Toni ever intended to marry.”

“Nothing is set in stone.” Grey turned to the jeweler, who’d been eyeing their exchange with a benign look on his face. “And this is?”

“Two hundred seventy- five thousand.”

Louisa’s hand flew to her mouth, not quite in time to cover her gasp; then she coughed and patted her chest with the other.

“It’s a GIA certified diamond, sir.”

Pleased with this new important detail and unfazed by the price, Grey raised his hand to the jeweler’s inhumanly devoid gaze and tapped the base of his wedding finger.“Would this include it being set in a band?”

“A setting, yes. I’d suggest platinum, with white pave diamonds surrounding the central stone to bring out the color in it, and a very delicate band.”

“Could we arrange for a wire transfer to be made to the store today, Louisa?”

She was on her feet, twisting a bracelet around her wrist. “Sure, it’s—Yes, anything is possible.”

“Splendid,” the man said.

Grey drummed his fingers on the glass in a restless gesture, studying his fidgeting assistant. “How should I give it to her, do you think? The old- fashioned way, roses, dropping at her feet?”

Louisa’s sudden laugh had a raspy, unattractive quality to it. It almost sounded cynical. “Toni isn’t that old- fashioned.”

“You’re right. Hmm.” He considered his Toni in all her dimensions, caring and funny and explosive.“Something fun, maybe. Balloons and a mime?”

“A mime?”

“Something she won’t expect.” Grey smiled at his own inge niousness, his mind racing full speed. “Yes. I like that.”