“That’s… great,” she said, her mind still reeling. And unexpected. What had changed all of a sudden?
“So…” He inhaled, his deep chest rising noticeably.
Her eyes wide, she waited for him to continue. Finally, he exhaled. “Things are going to change now, and it’s going to be fast. Think of it as… eloping. There’s no ring, yet, but…”
“I can’t choose one of you.” She felt tears welling up.
He shook his head. “You don’t understand—”
The door swung open and Jonathan burst in, Nolan by his side. “You found her,” he said to Cunningham.
“I did.” Cunningham rose to his feet with surprising grace for such a large man. But then, he was athletic in the truest sense of the word. His muscles weren’t just for show, but the result of living in a body that he expected to perform to the highest standards. Maybe his own body was afraid of him, too, Elle thought, and if she hadn’t been so freaked out by his unexpected decision, she would have laughed.
Cunningham took her hand. “Jonathan found a way to give you what you want,” he said. “You’ll need your purse.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “Because I saw you naked not so long ago, and I know you don’t have identification stashed in your bra.” He hooked a finger in the front of her dress and tugged it gently. “Though I’m happy to take another look…”
“They’re waiting,” Jonathan said, an edge to his voice. “If we’re not fast enough…”
“Why do I need identification?” Elle protested as Jonathan hustled her into the hallway with a firm hand on her lower back.
He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling. “Maybe you can’t trust those bozos, but Elle… I mean, c’mon. You know me.”
He nudged her forward and she shivered, then hurried to grab her purse.
An unfamiliar limousine waited at the curb. The driver, a man of the gym rat variety and wearing dark sunglasses, opened the door and helped Elle inside.
“Where are we going?” she asked Nolan, who slipped in behind her and pulled her into his warm embrace.
“To make my mother and uncle furious,” he murmured, then kissed her ear.
She smoothed out her dress. “What does that mean?”
The driver closed the door behind Cunningham, and she couldn’t help but notice six besuited men converging on the limo.
“Who are they?” she asked, worried.
“Oh, that’s your security detail,” Jonathan said. “They’re just temporary until you can pick your own guys.”
Elle stared at him in shock. She’d always considered Jonathan the joker of the group, the one who was too mellow to worry about little details. She twisted and saw the men piling into two dark-tinted SUVs.
Jonathan stretched out his long legs. “One of my friends started his own security business after he left the Secret Service. They’ll be able to keep the paparazzi away, although I’ll admit the next 48 hours may be a bit hectic.”
“Why?” she asked.
No one answered. She studied their stony faces, then gave up. These men had a monopoly on stubborn. She couldn’t guess what was happening, but it sounded like she’d find out soon enough.
She just hoped it wasn’t a bad surprise.
Her pulse thumped through her veins, and she snuggled deeper into Nolan’s arms, seeking comfort in the reassuring maleness of him.
Cunningham shifted her legs onto his lap and stroked her thighs. Something outside the window caught his attention.
“Stop!” he called out. The car continued to roll, and he looked around for the intercom.
Nolan pointed at the button, and Cunningham jammed his finger onto it. “Pull over.”
Before the car was fully stopped, he was out of the door. “Come on, Elle.” He pulled her after him.
“We don’t have time,” Jonathan said, stumbling onto the sidewalk. Around them, people were staring, and Elle wondered if they recognized them, recognized her. “We can do this after,” Jonathan insisted.
Cunningham whirled on him. “I’ve already conceded every inch that I’m capable of,” he snarled. “Do not push me any more.”
Jonathan held up his hands. “Fine. But be fast,” he muttered.
Cunningham pulled Elle toward a high-end jewelry store with the letters SOA written in gold. Next to the main entrance was a smaller, red door. Cunningham rang the bell, looking up at the corner of the entrance.
Frowning, Elle peered up, trying to figure out what he was staring at. Then there was a small clicking sound, and a man in a pinstripe suit and bow tie opened the door.
“Welcome, Mr. Cunningham,” he said. “I didn’t realize we were expecting you.” The subtext of his words was that he wasn’t pleased about being caught unprepared, either, but Cunningham, being Cunningham, ignored him.
“We need an engagement ring, Tobias,” he said.
Elle’s eyes went wide. “But—”
Cunningham cut off her protest with a glance.
Tobias’s eyes shone. “Very good, sir,” he said. “And congratulations.”
Nolan and Jonathan pushed up behind them, and Tobias opened the door, allowing everyone to enter.
Elle found herself standing on the marble floor of what could have passed for a very under-furnished private luxury home, except there was something too sterile and neat about it. Like the video cameras overhead that covered the room from every angle.
“If you’ll follow me through here…” Tobias said, his earlier tinge of annoyance replaced by enthusiasm.
They entered a beautiful drawing room that looked like the photos of Versailles that Elle had seen in a high school textbook. A woman in a black dress and frilly white apron stepped forward.
“What can I offer you?” Tobias asked as they sat on uncomfortable antique sofas. “I suppose the occasion calls for champagne—”
“We’re in a hurry,” Jonathan said, staring daggers at Cunningham, who simply pretended not to notice.
Tobias dismissed the aproned woman with a small gesture. He turned his attention to Elle. “May I see your hands?”
She placed her hands into his. His skin was the softest she’d ever felt, like he didn’t even tie his own shoelaces. She wondered if he pumiced them daily or something. He examined each of her fingers, then studied her palms and the backs of her hands.
Jonathan snapped his fingers impatiently, and Tobias smiled at Elle and rose. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and walked out.
“They will wait, you know,” Nolan said to Jonathan. “A few minutes won’t make a difference.”
“Your uncle doesn’t want to sign the papers, but he does want to be in Martinique this evening,” Jonathan said to Nolan. “My lawyer is worried your uncle will have him arrested for kidnapping.”
“My uncle will behave or I’ll cut him off.”
Elle looked from Nolan to Jonathan, trying to make sense of it all.
Tobias reappeared, carrying five ring boxes on a shallow black tray. He set the tray on a small gilded table and flipped open one of the boxes.
Elle found herself blinded by a glittering ring, the central stone practically large enough to stash a key under. She stared at it, her mouth dry. “Is that…” She couldn’t get the words out.
“This is a 25-carat diamond. It was mined in 1805 and presented to the Queen of—”
“She hates it,” Nolan said. “Next.”
Elle glanced at him, stunned.
“You do,” Jonathan agreed. “When it’s the right ring, you won’t look at it like you wish someone would drop a tissue over it and flush it down the toilet.”
“Mr. Arrow is, of course, correct,” Tobias said stiffly, his lips turned down. Apparently he wasn’t enchanted with Jonathan’s comparison. “This next ring is a champagne diamond—”
“Now I hate it,” Nolan said. “They always look soiled to me.”
“Very well,” Tobias said. He pursed his lips. “I suspect you’re not going to like what I�
��ve chosen, but there is something special I could show you. It only came in last night. It’s a pink diamond, round brilliant cut, and the setting is incredible.”
“Pink diamond?” Elle repeated. She’d never heard of such a thing.
“You must see it, dear. I’ve been in the business for three decades, and I’ve never come across a ring like this.” He was practically giddy with excitement, and Elle sensed it had nothing to do with three of the richest men in the world, desperate for a ring, showing up unannounced.
He left the room. Jonathan leaned over and opened the closed boxes. All of the rings were exquisitely gorgeous.
“I don’t think it looks dirty at all,” she said. “That is the champagne one?” She frowned, then leaned back as if the rings were poisonous. “Two things. First, these stones are too large. It’s just not me. Second… I don’t recall agreeing to marry anyone.”
Tobias returned. “I’m afraid we haven’t had time to find the perfect box to match it,” he said. He knelt in front of Elle, and she swore she heard his knees crack. “May I?” He slid the ring onto her finger, then gently released her hand.
Elle gasped despite herself. The ring was… there wasn’t a word that captured its beauty. The diamond truly was pink, almost red, and its fire hypnotized her. She stared at it, stunned at how perfectly balanced the round gem was in the swirling white setting.
Then, realizing she’d completely lost control of herself, she carefully began working the ring off. Unbelievably, it fit her perfectly.
Nolan touched her knee. “No,” he said. “Keep it on.”
“That’s the one,” Cunningham said. Jonathan nodded in agreement.
Tobias cleared his throat. “We haven’t priced it yet, although I can give you a lower range. A stone this rare, that singular color, and flawless, and at such a size—”
Cunningham tapped Tobias’s shoulder. “Let’s not discuss those details in front of our fiancée. Figure it out and call one of us.”
Tobias’s eyes were wide as he looked from Elle to the three men before him. The words our fiancée seemed to have knocked him completely off of his game.
“Elle,” Jonathan said. “Cunningham? Time to go.”
“But I can’t…” she said.
Cunningham kissed her cheek, though there was nothing chaste about it, could never be. “You can and you will,” he said.
The besuited men… her security detail… waited outside. They were scattered inconspicuously around the area, but now that she knew to look for them, she spotted them immediately.
Inside the car, Jonathan made a phone call. “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Well, keep him there, or I’ll take my business elsewhere.” He hung up, his jaw clenched.
Cunningham laced his fingers through hers, and Elle stared at the ring, her protests dying in her throat. She didn’t understand what was happening, but the one thing that was clear was that the men all seemed to be in on it. And when they agreed on something, they always got their way.
Jonathan sighed. “Did anyone ever tell you that your uncle is an asshole?”
“Nope, never,” Nolan murmured, straight faced. “Must be you.”
Jonathan started laughing, and the other two joined in.
“What is going on?” Elle demanded, though she was relieved that Jonathan was settling down. Seeing him stressed was just… unnatural.
Cunningham kissed the inside of her elbow, his stubble lightly scratching her skin. “You’ll see,” he said.
The limo pulled into an underground garage of sorts, though it was cleaner and nicer than Elle’s apartment.
They went up to the penthouse. The door swung open, and a small, gray-haired man glowered at them.
“This had better be a joke,” he said. “When your mother calls me back—”
“She’ll remind you that you’ve had a nice time with my money. Then you can complain about what an irresponsible ingrate I am,” Nolan finished dully. He pushed past the man, followed by Jonathan and Cunningham, with Elle still in his protective grip. As she passed the gray-haired man—Nolan’s uncle—their eyes connected. His malevolent expression chilled her.
They entered a spacious dining room. The table was bare except for an exquisite tropical flower arrangement in a Chinese vase, and four neat stacks of papers. Four men and three women, all perfectly coiffed and wearing perfectly tailored suits, waited, their faces set grimly.
Elle looked at her lovers, wondering why these people seemed so depressed.
“I have to tell you, Jonathan, I think this is a mistake,” one of the men said, his voice low. He was tall, with a strong nose and jaw, piercing gray eyes, and a swoop of fine black hair. His glance brushed over Elle. “As your lawyer—”
The little man who had opened the door puffed up his chest. “You think this is a bad idea? My nephew is throwing away his inheritance over a piece of pussy.”
There was an explosion of activity as the lawyers—assuming that’s what they all were—provided a wall of safety, keeping Jonathan and Nolan from attacking Nolan’s uncle.
Only Cunningham stayed back, his arms tight around Elle, but when she looked up, the murderous stare in his eyes frightened her to her core.
“Nolan,” Cunningham said carefully, “does he need to be here?”
“He and Nolan need to sign the final copy at the same time,” one of the lawyers answered.
“Sign it,” Cunningham growled. “And then get out or I’ll have the cops throw you out.”
“But this is my home. Mine! I’ve been living here for twenty years.” Nolan’s uncle seemed ready to burst into flames.
“I’m not kicking you out,” Nolan said, sounding exhausted. “You’re heading out of town as soon as we finish, and I can promise you that we’ll be long gone by the time you return.” He picked up a pen. “Where do we sign?”
“Do you have any idea how much work it will be to manage all of this!” Nolan’s uncle screamed. “You’ll be broke before you’re thirty.”
Nolan pulled the cap off the pen and tossed it aside. “I’m ready to sign,” he said, his tone even.
The lawyers sprang into action, and Elle watched as Nolan scrawled his name over and over again, on page after page.
A handsome man with thick, dark hair entered, and a nervous woman in her mid-twenties followed him in. Her orange-streaked brown hair was pulled back into a tight but imperfect bun, her eyeliner was unevenly applied, and the coral lipstick was all wrong for her skin tone.
The handsome newcomer and Cunningham exchanged nods. “Go sit over there,” the newcomer said to the nervous woman. “You will scan the signed pages as we send them over.”
“Sure.” She nodded too enthusiastically, her golden eyes darting around the room before she hurried to the little table in the corner.
The back of her skirt sported a deep, uneven crease, revealing the edge of the pink lining, and her stockings were ripped behind the knee. Elle immediately felt sorry for her; she’d been there. She knew how it was to feel in over her head. Still, the woman was very pretty, with wide-set, doe eyes and a smattering of light freckles across her cheeks.
“She’s just out of law school,” the elegant man explained to Cunningham before turning to Elle. “I’ve heard a lot about you. My name is Alexander Barthes. Congratulations on your merger.”
“Merger?” Elle echoed.
He shrugged. “It was the best we could come up with on short notice, but I have to say that it’s a sound idea. If my friends and I meet our soul mate, we may well do the same.” He turned, all business, and glanced at the piles on the table. “Where’s your identification? We’ll need to take a photo of it.”
Nolan looked up from signing. “Give him your driver’s license,” he said.
Elle fished her wallet out of her purse, her movements unfocused. Merger? Merger?
Jonathan’s warm hands rubbed her back. “Why don’t you go sit for a moment? You won’t have nearly as much to sign as we do.”
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“Merger?” she repeated, stunned.
“You wanted all of us,” he said with that handsome grin of his. “This is what you wanted.”
“Unlike a marriage, this can’t be dissolved easily,” Jonathan’s lawyer said. “At least, not without the consent of all four parties.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
Nolan put down his pen. “Someone get a coffee for Elle. Lots of cream and sugar, and for heaven’s sake, make sure it’s hot.”
Cunningham took her shoulders in his hands. “Once these papers are signed, the three of us are bound together. We share everything. We’re equals. This is permanent. It’s what you wanted… what we all wanted, really. Permanence and stability without trading what makes us unique.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now go sit.”
Elle raised her eyes to his. There was a little smile on his face. He nodded once, and that’s when she knew it was real.
Dazed, Elle walked to the table where the nervous woman held a portable scanner in her hand. She looked at Elle, then away.
“Is this all in a day’s work for lawyers?” Elle asked as she dropped onto an ornately carved chair. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around it, couldn’t understand why these men would do this for her. It was lunacy.
The woman looked up. “Oh, I… I don’t actually know what’s going on. Today is my first day.”
Elle sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Ohmigosh,” the woman gasped. “Your engagement ring is gorgeous!”
Elle smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
“May I?” The woman took her hand. “I’ve never seen anything like it. So who’s the lucky guy?”
“Oh.” That question. She’d better get used to answering it. “You see the really tall muscular man with the dark hair?” Elle asked. “Him.”
The woman’s golden eyes went wide. “Wow.”
“And the hot blonde guy. Him, too. And the one with the gorgeous blue eyes who seems to have a hand cramp from signing his name. That one as well.”
The woman’s face went blank, and she blinked at Elle, then smiled nervously—she had coral lipstick on her teeth—and looked away.
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