Jarden turned her frown on Jason. "What's going on?"
"Marty'll be so proud of me," he mumbled cynically to himself before meeting Jar's gaze. "Just gonna go give these people something else to think about." When her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously, he grinned. "Anya forgot her permit again, you see."
By the baffled look on her face, he could tell that she didn't see, and he chuckled, nodding to Frank. With a twinkle in his blue eyes, Frank motioned to the squad, and they moved forward, parting the crowd. Jason took something out of his pocket, holding it in his clenched fist as he stepped into the corridor they were creating, forgetting about Jarden as his eyes fixed on Anya's still singing form. They'd timed this as well as they could—she was finishing her last set.
His stomach suddenly clenching with nervous anticipation, Jason approached, distantly aware of the irritated murmur of the crowd as they were moved aside. Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, her voice faded on the last note, and she looked down at him curiously. Pasting a scowl on his face, he stomped up the stairs towards her, keeping his hands behind his back.
"Do you have a permit for this?" he asked in as belligerent a tone as he could manage, halting two steps below her.
Tilting her head quizzically, she looked down at him, her beautiful blue eyes questioning as she studied his face. He knew she could feel him as he felt her—she would know that he wasn't angry. But she wasn't a telepath. She couldn't know what he had planned.
"Oops," she drawled, her amplified voice floating out over the crowd. She got a few laughs for that one.
He fought the urge to grin, careful to keep the scowl on his face. "Do you know the penalty for disturbing the peace?" As he spoke, he shifted the small box he held behind his back and opened it so the crowd could see what was inside. He was gratified to hear excited exclamations and whispers behind him.
A smile played around her mouth, but her eyes were serious as she watched him. She would feel his apprehension and was probably wondering what the hell was going on. "Solitary confinement with the second in command?" she asked in a hopeful voice and got more laughter.
He let the scowl drop off his face, giving her a lopsided grin. "Make that a lifetime sentence, and you've got yourself a deal," he murmured, bringing his hand around and offering the box to Anya. Inside was a ring, the diamond catching the light in a flash of sparkling color. "Will you marry me?"
There was a collective gasp from the audience before they fell silent in a breathless hush. Jason felt the same, his breath caught in his throat as he waited, watching as she glanced down at the gift. He had her answer before she spoke, a warm rush of happiness that flooded through his entire being, nearly bringing him to his knees.
But she schooled her expression and made a show of frowning at the ring dubiously before giving him a sly glance through her silver lashes, her mouth curling at the edges. "Couldn't I just pay a fine?"
He scowled at her, less than amused by her wit. "Damn it, woman, can't you ever just say yes?"
With a stunning smile that lit her entire face, she snatched the box from him and flung herself into his arms, her laughter ringing out over the market like music with the roar of the crowd as accompaniment.
About the Author
Michelle O'Leary is also the author of The Huntress, a sci-fi romance available in both ebook and paperback.
She also appears as The Saylor in The Insomniac Tales by Chaucer's Women. This book is a collaborative effort by thirteen DLSIJ Press authors, and it is available in both ebook and paperback.
Author Email: [email protected]
Author Web Site: michelleoleary.com
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I Scene IV
Angels and Ministers of Grace Page 34