THE RING felt both weightless and impossibly heavy on Mailah's finger.
She couldn't stop looking at it—the way the blue gem caught the fading sunlight, the way the silver band settled against her skin like it had always belonged there.
Every small movement of her hand sent tiny refractions of light dancing across the walls of the sunroom, creating patterns that seemed almost magical.
Which was fitting, given the circumstances.
"You're staring at it," Grayson observed, his voice warm with amusement.
"You're noticing me staring at it," Mailah countered, finally tearing her gaze away from the ring to look at him. "Which means you've been watching me stare at it."
"Guilty," he admitted, pulling her closer until she was tucked against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. "Though I'm allowed. I spent weeks trying to find the right one."
Mailah's head snapped up. "Weeks? You've been planning this for three weeks?"
