Chapter 37

Chapter 37:

Dallas flexed his hand and studied it. The modest metal looked stark and bright against his skin. It looked like a claim.

“I will never take it off,” he said. The gravity in his voice made Eliza’s breath catch.

“But Dallas —” she whispered, “the secrecy. Everyone will see it p>

He met her gaze, a dangerous glint surfacing in his eyes. “Let them see. Let them wonder p>

𝖱𝗲𝘢d 𝘄і𝘁𝘩𝘰u𝘁 𝗂𝗻𝘁𝗲r𝘳u𝗉𝘁𝗶𝘰𝗇ѕ 𝗼𝗻

He set her protest aside without ceremony. He picked up the smaller ring.

“My turn p>

He reached for her hand without asking — simply took it. His grip was firm and warm. He slid the ring onto her finger. It was light, but the weight of his gaze made it feel like something permanent. Something irrevocable.

He held her hand a moment longer than necessary, his thumb moving slowly over her knuckles.

Then he tugged. “Come here p>

Eliza stumbled forward, rounding the corner of the table. Before she could understand what was happening, Dallas caught her by the waist.

He pulled her down. She gasped as she landed in his lap.

“Dallas — Mrs. Higgins —” she said, twisting toward the kitchen.

“Dismissed for the night,” he murmured against her hair. His arms wrapped around her waist, locking her in place. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at their joined hands resting on his thigh. The two silver rings glinted side by side.

“We are a team now, Eliza,” he said. “Fortune and Prosperity p>

She felt his heartbeat against her back. Steady and strong, like a war drum.

“This is a slow adjustment period,” he murmured — the clinical term sounding obscenely intimate in this position.

“Adjustment to what?” she asked, barely breathing, her hands resting tentatively on his forearms.

“To being mine,” he said, and pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

A wave of desire moved through her — hot, disorienting, impossible to suppress. She should push him away. The contract said professional. Clause 4.

But she didn’t push. She leaned back, just slightly, just for a moment.

The ring on his finger was cool against her skin, but his body was fire. He smelled of sandalwood and authority.

“You bought me with silver,” he murmured, his lips grazing her neck. “A steal p>

“I thought you liked good deals,” she managed, her voice unsteady.

“I like the best deals,” he corrected. His hand shifted, his thumb tracing the line of her hip through the fabric of her dress.

Eliza’s mind was spinning. This wasn’t pretend. This wasn’t performance. His reaction to the cheap rings — the way he had looked at them, the vow he had made — he had treasured them. Because she had given them to him.

In that moment, with terrifying clarity, Eliza understood that the man holding her might actually love her.

And that frightened her far more than Anson’s hatred ever had. Because love meant vulnerability. Love meant something precious enough to lose. And she was no longer sure she could survive losing him.