Page 85 of Property of Bones

A thick silver band etched with intricate patterns that almost look like flames wrapping around a deep, smoky stone that catches the light and throws it back like fire. Elegant but lethal.

So him.

So…us.

“You put a ring on me without me even noticing?” I whisper, staring at it like it might vanish.

He grins. “Slipped it on when I was helping you sit down. You were too busy complaining about yourvest.”

I laugh, half in shock, half in awe. “That issomessed up… and kinda romantic.”

“Kinda?” he growls, teasing now.

“Okay,veryromantic,” I say, eyes shining. “Sneaky, but romantic.”

He leans in, lips brushing against mine. “Foster is ordering your cuts as we speak.”

“Wait. How? You don’t even know my size. Actually, hold up… how did you know myringsize?”

“I stole one of your rings from your jewelry box,” he says without a hint of shame. “Took it with me to the jeweler last week.”

“Youwhat?”

“You didn’t even notice it was gone.”

Touché.

“And your clothes, baby?” he adds with a smirk. “You have enough hanging in that closet to clothe a small militia. Finding your size was the easiest part of this whole operation.”

I blink at him. “Okay… fair. But, uh…whatcolorvest is Foster ordering?”

Jack’s grin turns devilish. “All of them.”

My mouth drops. “All of them?”

“All of them,” he growls. “Pink. White. Pastel lavender with sparkles, for all I care. I told him to get every color the company owned or could get. I want you wearing your cutno matter whatdress you put on. And none of those bulky, biker styles either. I said make ‘em cute. Feminine. Something that looks like it belongs next to heels, not boots and a bandana.”

I stare at him.

“You had a whole fashion brief prepared for Foster?” I ask. “In those few seconds of texts you just sent?”

He shrugs. “My words were short but he knows what I mean. You’re my woman. And if my woman doesn’t want to compromise style for protection. She gets both.”

My jaw moves, but no sound comes out.

This man. This terrifying, scarred-up, emotionally-stunted man…

Just custom-ordered me an entire line of tacticalcouture.

“Okay,” I whisper, completely undone. “I’m never letting you go.”

He smirks. “Good. Because I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”

A beat of silence.

“Can I have a gun? Or one of your blades…Bedazzled?”

His brow twitches. “There’s a line, woman,” he growls.

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