by Leigh Morgan
“You must really love that woman you told everyone...ON THE PLANET...you are going to marry.” She was yelling now and she didn’t care. She wanted to beat him. How dare he pay her, and their unborn child off. Who did he think he was anyway?
Ram was off the bed and holding her by the arms before she could hit him. “I think my dear, that I am the man who just gave you half of everything I own so you could live in my world.”
He gave her a little shake. “I think I am the same man who asked you to marry me in this house...the same man you said yes to, by the way...the same man you divorced..”
Ram looked at his watch, without letting her go. “Less than an hour ago. I think I am the man you said you loved and walked away from not once, but three times. I think...no, I know, I am the man who will do anything to keep you by his side. If a hundred million isn’t enough to make that happen, name your price.” Ram glowered down at her, watching the color drain from her face.
Well that’s too damn bad Rhiannon. I’m not done with you yet.
“Now what I want to know is who the hell do you think you are to turn my world...my life… upside down and walk away?” Ram didn’t give her a chance to answer. “The answer better be Rhiannon Macleod, Rí. You better marry me or I’ll...I’ll...“I’ll lock you in that Goddamn dungeon of yours until you rot.”
Ram closed his eyes, silently willing his heart to slow down. He was panting like he’d just run seven miles with Ben.
When Ram pictured this moment in his head he hadn’t been screaming or threatening the woman he loved. Rí just had a way of bringing out the insane man who’d taken up residence inside him the day he met her.
“Did you just ask me to marry you?” Rhia asked, astonished, relieved and confused at the same time.
Ram eased his grip, but didn’t let go. Looking into her pale blue eyes he said, “Yes.”
A slow, beautiful, smile transformed her pixie face as she cocked her head at him. “Your delivery was better the first time.”
He waited, not trusting himself to speak, as he silently contemplated the merits of strangling her or ravishing her where she stood. There was no clear winner, he thought, it could go either way...
And then she kissed him. “Just remember stud…I kissed you first.”
It took him a second to remember he’d said similar words to her the night they first made love. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
Rí kissed him again. “Yes. That’s a yes. But I want a pre-nuptial agreement this time.”
Ram grabbed her and carried her to the bed. He settled her in his lap and nibbled her ear. “Fine. I’ll sign whatever your lawyer sends me.”
She suddenly got very serious. “Ram, that’s not what I meant.”
Ram took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. He wasn’t ever having this conversation again so he wanted to be clear once and for all.
“I know what you meant. And I’m not signing a damned thing. Neither are you. Most of those assets in the settlement agreement are in an irrevocable trust. You can’t give, and I can’t take, them back. They’re yours and I don’t give a flying...fu…”
Rhia put her hand over his mouth. He bit her just hard enough to get his point across. She let go.
“I don’t care what you do with the money. That’s up to you. The only thing I regret about giving it to you this way is the four weeks I’ve been without you.” Ram kissed her softly.
“You were right you know, you aren’t a part of my world. You are my world. All the rest is just...well the rest. Enjoy our money Rí, it is ours. If you’d just lighten up about it you’d have some fun.” He teased.
“If you are going to marry me this time, and just for the record it’s too late to back out now, you’re going to do it knowing everything about me. I can’t change my past. Not the paternity suits, the trashed hotel rooms, the shit I was, but I can promise to love and care for you for the rest of my life.”
“No more paternity suits?”
“I can promise there will be no foundation for any.” His tone got serious. “I am a public figure. There will be reporters. There will be tabloid stories. I can’t control, or change that. The question is, can you accept that part of who I am?”
“I may never get used to that part. I may end up punching someone again if I think they’re trying to hurt you. But, I love you Ramsey Macleod, I truly, truly do.
Ram got a wicked gleam in his eye. “Okay then, here’s your first test.” He said fingering his mother’s wedding ring where it still sat on her finger. Ram was inordinately pleased she hadn’t taken it off.
“The man who gave you this,” he spun her wedding ring again. “Had taste and discretion. He also wanted to give you a symbol of the true depth of his love.” Ram looked into Rhia’s eyes as he kissed the back of her hand above her ring, before switching to her right hand.
Ram fished the box out of his jeans pocket. No easy task with a pregnant woman on his lap. “Now this is a token from an unabashedly tasteless rock-star who believes gaudy is good. Go ahead Rí, open it. If you can wear it on this hand then you can embrace both worlds.”
Rhia opened the box and gasped. She didn’t know how many carats it was, but she’d seen smaller rocks in bubble-gum machines. “Oh…My…God.” Was all she could say.
Ram grinned at her. “I know honey. It’s hideously huge. We can call it ‘H.H. on ice.’” Ram teased, slipping the monstrosity on the ring finger of Rhia’s right hand. It covered most of the skin knuckle to knuckle. He kissed her hand, bumping his lip on the ring.
“There you are. Now you’ll fit right in with all the rock-star wives.” His eyes softened. “But you’ll always be in a class all your own.”
Rhia eyed the ring and her husband. The diamond looked like something that should be gracing the hand of Paris Hilton or Kate Middleton, but she’d wear the damn thing. At least in public, if for no other reason than to show her husband she embraced all of him.
...
They were married the next day at her castle in Scotland.
It wasn’t a small ceremony. Rhia’s entire family was there, so was Ram’s aunt, Lynda, and a three hundred of their closest friends. Of course that included Becca and Ben’s friends as well.
Ram had the small castle completely refurbished in the space of a month. He hired people to re-vamp it as soon as he found out she bought it, but he hired more to have it ready in time for their rock-star-over-the-top-wedding. Rhia had to admit her new home was lovely. She couldn’t wait to get started sketching the grounds.
Every musician Ram knew, most of which she’d never heard of before, was invited to the wedding. She’d gotten Annie Lennox’s autograph and the gracious, somewhat shy woman insisted on getting Rhia’s in return. She danced with Willie Nelson who oozed charm, even more so than Tom Jones, who Rhia had secretly lusted after since she was twelve.
Ram sang at the reception, one song, that made her cry, before a band called Seven Nations from Canada took over. Ram heard them play at Irish Fest in Milwaukee and knew they’d be perfect given his love of Celtic music and rock.
Rhia met people Becca modeled with and a striking man with his exquisite wife who’s name Rhia recognized from shampoo bottles. Face, after beautiful face, of the rich and famous swam in front of her, and never once did she feel like she didn’t belong right where she was.
At Ram’s side.
After the star overload faded, Rhia realized what Flossie told her all those months ago was true:
Rock stars were people too, they just had better sunglasses.
...
After the last guest left and they were finally alone, Ram led his blind-folded wife down the narrow stone steps of her castle. At the bottom of the stairway was a wooden door that bore a plaque with the words: Rí’s Rec Room in bold medieval script.
“You can take off that blindfold now Mrs. Macleod.”
Ram gave her eyes a moment to adjust.
“Go ahead Rí, open the door.” Ram�
�s grin was positively carnal.
She did.
And walked into a cavernous space that had just been re-stuccoed and furnished with implements of torture from around the world. There was an iron maiden that looked particularly gruesome, a set of thumb screws, not one, but two chastity belts and other odd looking items she refused to ask about.
She quirked a brow at her unrepentant husband, who pointed to a very modern pink feather boa, a pair of black PVC stilettos and a riding crop fitted with a peacock feather at one end.
Ram threw a switch on a generator illuminating a king sized bed and a portable hot tub at the end of the room. “I thought you could lock me in your dungeon and have your wicked way with me, my pixie queen.” His voice, pure honeyed whisky over crushed pearls.
Rhia shivered and put the boa on. She took the peacock feathered crop from the wall, and did just what her rock-star-king asked.