“Does the danger bother you, or the fact that he won’t discuss it with you?” Soleil asked.
Seychelle considered that. “Both. I like to know what I’m getting into. I want to hear about it and take time to think it through.”
“If it’s their business and not yours, then why should you know about it? If you had a business, would you want Savage to insist you tell him every detail?”
Seychelle thought that over. “I would hope he would be interested in everything I did and would want to talk about it with me. I wouldn’t want him to interfere or tell me how to run my business, but I would definitely want him to be interested enough to talk about it with me.” She tilted her head and studied Soleil. “You’re interested in Ice’s jewelry business. He’s interested in your paintings. Do you both talk about each other’s work together?”
Soleil smiled at her. “We do. I see your point, but neither of those things are club business.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh and then indicated Seychelle’s engagement ring. “Savage chose that stone himself. It was a huge deal to him. He spent hours going over stones with Ice, talking to him about your eyes and how he wanted the exact color, and the stone had to be unique and special. He didn’t care about the money. Apparently, he rarely spends money. This house, because all of them were told they needed to have a home. He chose this place because he thought you would love it. But the stone, for him, was important, because he wanted you to know that he sees you. The heart of you. That’s what he said to Ice. He said you were his angel and you have a pure heart. He sees all of you. That’s a fancy teal-blue flawless diamond. Very hard to come by. The diamonds surrounding it are unique as well. And of course, Ice’s design gives the ring added flair. What I’m telling you is, that man loves you, Seychelle, and he’s trying, in the only way he knows how, to tell you.”
TWENTY
Savage sat in the chair across from the bed in the master bedroom and watched Seychelle sleep. He’d lowered the privacy screens on the windows to black out the morning light, leaving just enough for him to see his woman as she lay curled up in the middle of the giant bed. Ice and Soleil had gone home after breakfast, but Seychelle had slept through their departure. It was clear she’d sat up most of the night. She had one of her notebooks by the bed with a page listing her pros and cons.
The notebook had dropped to the floor and he’d picked it up and read it. It wasn’t meant for him, but then he had been very up-front with her about the fact that he had never learned much about privacy and didn’t intend to when it came to his woman. He loved her, and he could soften his personality only so much for her, but he was always going to be who he was. She would have to understand that and accept him.
He knew she was struggling; not only to accept him, the club, his lifestyle, but also to come to terms with aspects she hadn’t realized about herself. It was a lot to expect of anyone. He looked down at the list in his hand. It wasn’t about him. He wished it were all about him. His little angel didn’t understand that she was perfect for him just the way she was. Angel to him didn’t mean the same thing it did to her.
She listed cons about herself. He read every single one of them. Afraid of failing him? That one got to him the most. How in the world could she fail him? That was impossible. He knew he would be the one in their relationship to fail over and over. What he had going for them was absolute determination. He never stopped. Never. He would continue to try no matter what, and he wasn’t above apologizing for his fuckups and learning from them.
He read the list again and shook his head before he stood up and went to the bank of drawers where he kept his favorite whips. She would never touch the drawers that held his whips. He knew that about her. Those were his and sacred to him, so they were sacred to her. He carefully tore the list from the notebook so it wasn’t frayed on the edges and placed it in the bottom of the drawer under his favorite whip. He stared at the page a long time. He was keeping that list. Someday it was going under glass and he’d hang it on the wall for one thing, one line. At the bottom she had written, I will never leave him. I love him. It’s that simple. I’ll find a way to make it work.