I finished off my notes and scanned the room to see if there were any display cases I’d missed. In the far corner there looked to be a smaller case I could have sworn wasn’t there earlier. I wasn’t sure how I could have skipped it. I checked my watch—still a few minutes before I had to meet the bus.

As I got to the case I froze and nearly dropped my notepad. Inside was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. Far simpler than most of the pieces here tonight, it boasted a large emerald flanked by baguette diamonds. While most of the jewelry on display had demonstrated original designs or brilliant engineering, this ring did neither. It was a classic design with a straightforward setting, but it was quite simply stand-out gorgeous. It must have been an engagement ring. But it was huge. I put my hand next to it to get some perspective on its size. The contrast was almost alarming—my rough hands, subjected to a home manicure, and this elegant, dignified, perfectly polished ring. A week ago, I’d been home at the Sunshine Trailer Park, with an Etsy shop that brought in a couple of necklace orders a month. Now I was across the world, surrounded by beautiful people and more-beautiful jewelry, at the start of a three-month internship for one of the best jewelers in the world. Even if hands like mine would never be graced by jewelry this fine, I could still use them to make something beautiful.

Three

Hollie

I needed to leave the party to make sure I found the bus on time, but I just wanted to steal a few more moments with this ring. I shoved my notebook and pen back into my bag and circled the display case again. When was I going to get another opportunity to see jewels like this, with this kind of history, demonstrating this kind of talent and creativity?

It was only now I understood Lord of the freaking Rings. I could happily suspend my disbelief for wizards and hobbits, but I’d never bought into the idea that some mystical band of gold could inspire such risk to life and limb. Looking at this emerald, though, I totally and completely understood how it might be worth a trip to Mordor. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to put that ring on my finger. Again, I held my hand alongside it. The stone was big, but that was part of its charm. You wouldn’t see anything else when this ring was in your eyeline. My smudged manicure and hand-me-down dress would go unnoticed with this gem on my hand. I might even fit in with the other guests in this ballroom tonight. All it would take was a multi-million-dollar ring.

“It suits you,” a man said from behind me. His gravelly voice sent an involuntary shiver racing down my spine, as if someone had run a finger across the bare skin of my back.

I snapped my head around to find the impossibly gorgeous Dexter Daniels grinning at me, his eyes twinkling in amusement. If I’d thought he was handsome from across the room, being face-to-face with him didn’t disappoint. He was broad, filling up the entire space in front of me, and so tall I had to tip my head back to look him in the eye. He was standing close, as if we were already sharing secrets, and a faint woodsy scent came from his custom suit. A curl of shiny black hair fell onto his forehead, and I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to push it back into place.

I turned away, unsure if I would be able to form a coherent sentence if I was looking at him. “Sadly, it’s out of my price range,” I said, flattening my hand on the glass case.

“I’m not sure it’s for sale,” he replied. “But if it was, you should have it.”

“Right,” I said. “I also deserve a castle in Scotland, but that’s not on this week’s grocery list either.”

I looked up at him, waiting for a response, but instead he just stared right back at me. When he finally spoke again after a too-long beat of silence, he said, “Your eyes are quite the most beautiful shade of green and have the most glorious flecks of blue, just like a Zambian emerald.”

I wanted to giggle at his straight-up crazy mixed with a hunk of cheese, but before the corners of my mouth had turned up, he stepped back and his cheeks reddened as if he was embarrassed by what he’d said. As if it had been a slip of the tongue.

“God, sorry, I sound like I’m coming on to you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and instinctively I reached to remove his hand.

“Don’t be sorry. I treat cheese as its own food group. I’m a fan. My name’s Hollie.”

Tags: Louise Bay The Mister Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net