Page 108 of Unapologetic Obsession
“I would’ve saidyes.”
There was a slight shift in his eyes that told me he processed my response. I wasn’t sure he believed me. Perhaps he would always expect me to reject him based on our history.
Feeling the weight of the ring dragging me down, I added, “But please don’t spring a surprise wedding on me.”
Caden remained impassive instead of agreeing to my terms with a verbal commitment. Not at all relieved by his reaction, I was fully convinced he might do just that. Without another word, he spun on his heel, guiding me through the throngs.
Confused, I asked, “Where’re we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” When I tried to dig my heels into the ground in alarm, he glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a wedding.”
He was quick to lead us out of the ballroom, not hurrying but not dawdling, either. People occasionally blocked our path to congratulate us, and I kept my chin high, even as my insides burbled with uncertainty.
He took me to a room just off the grand ballroom that was no less impressive in grandeur. We were still close enough to hear the music—the DJ was playing Stardust—but the sound was smothered when Caden shut the door behind us.
Inside, the lights were dim except for a shimmer on the glass cases. It was a museum of sorts. Or perhaps a shrine to novelty vintage items. The formality of the room radiated from the hush of the carpet to the velvet ropes guarding valuable items. The polished brass plaque identified each item and its estimated value.
A cigarette case belonging to the wife of a Russian ambassador.
A signed first edition of a Hemingway novel.
A Cartier brooch that looked like an insect trapped in amber.
“What is this place?” I asked, hands folded.
“Auction hall for vintage items. Guests will bid on these collectibles tonight, and the proceeds will go to charity.”
“Are we allowed to be here if it isn’t open yet?”
“Only if you know the owner.” He smirked. “See anything you like?”
I blinked. This felt an awful lot like a consolation gift for ambushing me into an engagement. It was starting to dawn on me that Caden didn’t believe in apologies or regrets, but rather trade-offs and exchanges to squash hurt feelings. I could only imagine this stemmed from an unhappy childhood or unhealthy relationships. Based on what I remembered, it was both.
“You don’t have to buy me anything to make up for tonight.” I lifted my right shoulder. “Like I said, I would’ve saidyesanyway.”
He leaned closer, his voice low. “I’m not making up for anything because I don’t regret my actions.” Despite the assholey words, a shiver went down my spine when his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “It’s an engagement gift.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about his confession. Instead, I followed Caden as he moved through the exhibits, trailing a finger over a display case without actually touching the glass.
I stopped in front of the most prominent item in the middle of the room—a classic, vintage car. According to the plaque, it was a Rolls-Royce Phantom I.
One look at it, and I knew this car was meant to make an entrance. It looked like a rolling throne, the embodiment of elegance, wealth, and untouchable status. The long, stately silhouette was finished with a hand-crafted coach-built body. Wide sweeping fenders framed enormous wheels, capped with pristine whitewall tires. The headlights were large and commanding. The tall, imposing radiator grille gleamed with a silver finish, crowned by an elegant hood ornament.
I peeked inside, which was equally impressive. The rear was upholstered in leather, accented with polished mahogany. The chauffeur’s compartment up front was trimmed in black leather to emphasize the separation between the two cabins.
The car exuded power, yet it was refined, kind of like Caden.
Caden’s hand wrapped around my waist. “You want it?”
My brows shot up. “You want to buy me a car? I don’t even remember how to drive.”
I watched as his hand gripped the velvet rope. With a practiced flick, he dropped it to the floor. “I’ll teach you.”
“How? We can’t exactly test drive a car on a boat.” I strolled around the car, tracing its outline from close.
His lips quirked. “There are other ways of taking it on a test drive. For example, I’m particularly curious to find out if the back seat’s sturdy.”
I caught my reflection in the glossy hood and realized Caden was right behind me. His eyes were dark, and he closed the nominal gap within the blink of an eye. The hairs on my arms rose, every nerve alert and ready. He pushed me against the hood and pressed his body against me to keep me pinned.
