Page 42 of Mistaken
“How so, darling?”
“Oh, I just meant- your cufflinks-” I gestured awkwardly, “the emeralds match my wedding ring.”
“Ah,” Maksim’s voice lowered to a purr, which usually meant he was pleased with himself, or turned on. I really hoped it was the former because it was hard enough keeping up my very own little “no touchie” rule.
“Those are not emeralds. They are green diamonds.”
“Green diamonds?” I held up my ring, “I didn’t know there was such a thing as green diamonds.”
“They’re very rare and very difficult to source,” he agreed, “but I told my jeweler I wanted something that matched your eyes for your wedding ring.”
That was… such an oddly romantic notion that I didn’t know what to say. “Well, they’re beautiful,” I finally offered, “so thank you.”
“But back to your dress,” he was looking at the corset top with a critical eye. “It needs a bit more embellishment.” Maksim took a flat, velvet-covered box from his suit jacket. He opened it and I stifled a gasp.
It was a beautifully crafted pin, with swirls of diamonds set in platinum and at the bottom, a teardrop-shaped green diamond. It was huge, it was magical. It glowed with some kind of light not drawn from the room.
“What… how old is this pin? Brooch?”
“This is the Dresden Green. The green diamond is forty-one carats, presented to Frederick the Great of Prussia, who had it made into a hat pin.” His gaze went from the pin to me. “May I?”
“Uh, sure?”
Two warm fingers slipped inside the dress between my breasts, and I sucked in a gasp. He pinned the diamond there, and stepped back, turning me to face the mirror. “Now, you are complete.”
Carefully brushing my fingers across the pin, I shook my head. “Maksim- this is- I can’t wear this, it’s too much responsibility. Who does it even belong to?”
“Sadly, it belongs to the country of Germany, and the government does not seem inclined to sell it. It has resided in the Dresden Green Vault for three hundred years, though my countrymen managed to take it briefly during World War Two before returning it to Germany. I requested to borrow the jewel from an associate to adorn you with for one night. It is priceless. And so, Mrs. Morozov, are you.”
“Am I priceless because I’m… me, or because I’m your wife?” I was tossing away what could be seen as a rather beautiful moment, but I had to know if he saw me as anything other than what he wanted to create.
Slipping two fingers under my chin, Maksim lifted my head so I had to look at him. “You are priceless because you are both.”
Okay, then.
“So, how do you know Alexander King?” I’m leaning over to look out at the glittering high rise in front of us, ablaze with lights and limousines queuing up to drop their expensive cargo at the massive entryway.
“Through primarily legitimate means,” Maksim was focused on his phone, but there was a tiny smile on those full lips.
“Primarily, huh.”
He hummed noncommittally and I laughed. While clearly, I’d never traveled in these exalted circles before, even I knew that Alexander King, billionaire, tech genius, and sort of a dick, threwtheNew Year’s Eve for New York City’s elite. In fact, Prince William and Princess Kate attended last year and Tania and I spent hours online, discussing who looked better, Kate or Amal, who attended her still insanely hot husband George Clooney.
And now me…
Maksim…
I was used to media attention, though I tend to go out of my way to avoid it. But there was no flying under the radar tonight, and to my amusement, this time most of the cameras and shouted questions were focused on Ella.
“Ella! How’s married life?”
“Who are you wearing tonight, Mrs. Morozov?”
“Are the rumors of your pregnancy true?”
“Uh, this is so creepy,” Ella murmured to me, “does this happen all the time?”
“It does at a King event,” I kissed her hand. “Just smile and don’t look directly at the cameras,????????.”
