Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

Afterward, we watched the night sky as we reclined on the hood of my BMW and drank ice-cold beer.

“In the past, I would have needed a smoke to really enjoy the moment,” Dinara murmured.

“I don’t even miss smoking anymore.”

“Me neither. You and racing give me the highs that I need,” she said with a teasing smile. I touched her cheek, unable to believe how lucky I was, how ridiculously happy.

And then it hit me. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. Of course, I wasn’t prepared, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to wait to get a ring. This was the right time and I hoped Dinara would see it too. I slid off the hood and sank down on the dusty ground before Dinara.

She sat up slowly, her eyes widening briefly, then disbelief took hold of her face. “What are you doing?”

I took her hand with a grin. “We made it to five years, even though you thought we wouldn’t. I think we’re still going strong. I’d bet all my money on us making it to fifty years.”

Dinara bit her lower lip, stifling laughter. “Considering our risky lifestyle, I doubt we’ll live that long.”

“I know you aren’t thirty yet, so your second requirement isn’t fulfilled, but I can’t wait another five years. I’d say we’re good to go…” I fumbled inside my jeans pocket and pulled out a discarded silver chewing gum wrapper.

Dinara let out a disbelieving laugh but didn’t comment. I formed the wrapper into a makeshift ring, then took her hand again. “Dinara Mikhailov, will you marry me?” I held up the wrapper ring, which glittered in the headlights, making it look more sturdy than it was.

“You are out of your mind!” Dinara exclaimed, but her eyes were soft and she had trouble fighting her smile.

I lifted the ring a bit higher. “I’m afraid I need an answer.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, she said, “Yes.”

I pushed the wrapper ring on her finger, then staggered to my feet and wrapped my arms around her. I kissed her fiercely as she pressed close to me. “For a second I worried you’d say no.”

“For a second I considered saying no. I really love our life of sin, without commitment, free-spirited and wild.”

I looked into her eyes. “Then why didn’t you?” Dinara and I had never seriously talked about marriage. She wasn’t like some girls who dreamed about a big wedding and a princess dress. If I’d had more time planning this moment, I probably would have gotten cold feet. But she had said yes, to me, to us, to forever.

Adamo grinned as if he’d won the jackpot. I stretched out my hand and admired the silver wrapper ring around my finger, not answering his question yet. “I’m glad you put so much effort into our engagement ring,” I teased him. I didn’t really care. I rarely wore jewelry, even though I owned a shocking amount of it, all gifted by my father or family in Russia. I hadn’t taken any of my jewelry with me, and I didn’t miss it. The only things I really wanted to have with me were my Fabergé eggs, but a motorhome wasn’t a good place for valuable pieces of art.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. He always cut it at the beginning of the season but allowed it to grow in the months that followed. “I thought you didn’t care about jewelry.”

He actually sounded worried. “I don’t,” I whispered. “This is the perfect ring for us.”

Adamo chuckled. “I’m not sure I agree. You’ll get a better ring soon.” He paused, raising his eyebrows. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

Why did I say yes? For a long time, I’d been against marriage, considered it superfluous and restricting. The mere idea of binding myself to a person like that had made me nervous, but when Adamo had popped the question, my body hadn’t reacted with a cold sweat or feeling of nausea. It had felt inexplicably right. “Because I can’t imagine ever living without you again, so we might as well make it official. I realized we were already committed, and marriage to you doesn’t mean we can’t be wild and free-spirited anymore.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Adamo joked.

I boxed his shoulder before I kissed him hard. “I love you, and I love being reckless with you, and I know we can keep being reckless even when we’re married and that’s perfect.”

“And I love you.” He took my hand and inspected the ring he’d put together. “We can go ring shopping next time we pass a city.”

I pursed my lips in thought. I couldn’t really see myself with a wedding ring. “Do we have to get an actual ring? Can’t we get something else that shows we’re together? Or maybe we just don’t have anything but the love in our hearts.”