Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

ideal, but of course I can hire the best care possible to help us with her. We’ll interview nannies when
you’re a bit further along, but I’ve already started making calls.”
Nannies and honeymoons and…
“I’m not marrying you,” I say again.
“Yes, you are,” he repeats.
“You’re supposed to ask.”
“You would have said no,” he says reasonably.
My eyes widen. “Yes. Of course I would have.”
“That’s why I didn’t ask.”
“No still means no, even if you ignore it,” I inform him.
His steady gaze on mine, he says, “If you don’t tell me your preferences, then I’ll just plan it all
myself. If you have a vote, now is the time to express your desires.”
I stare at him. “Do you know how unfair you’re being?”
“Very. I’m a bastard. Greece or Maldives?”
Sighing heavily, I consult my only reference for either place—some filtered shots that have
passed through my feed on social media—and say, “I don’t know. Maldives?”
He nods. “I agree. Good choice, sweetheart.”
Choice. Ha!
“And the ring?”
I glance at the simpler one I liked. It’s cushion cut and much smaller, so it’s far less intimidating
than the one he likes. Meanwhile, the asscher is just like him—stunning to look at, but way too much.
I can’t bring myself to pick a ring. It feels too much like consent.
“I’m not choosing,” I tell him.
“All right,” he says easily. “The asscher it is.” He plucks the ring back off the cushion and grabs
my hand. I try to pull away, and his grip tightens. I meet his gaze warily, but there’s steely
determination in his that tells me he won’t be moved. I know there’s little sense in fighting him.
Whether he puts the damn ring on my hand or not, he’ll consider us engaged because he’s stark raving
mad.
I sigh heavily and relax my hand in his grip.
Enjoying my submission, he smiles, his dark eyes glittering with approval. “Such a good girl,”
he murmurs, and I hate myself for it, but my insides turn to jelly.