Page 92 of Silas

Her eyes, already wide, almost pop out of their sockets. “You don’t need to buy me expensive jewelry, Silas. No matter how much money you have.”

“Needto? Maybe not. But Iwantto, and I’m going to. Because you deserve to be spoiled.”

She lets out a little sigh, then turns her gaze to the tray, perusing the selection. “I don’t know how to pick, honestly. They’re all beautiful.”

The jeweler studies Naomi. “Madam, may I just say that beauty so pure as yours requires little adornment. You need something understated but lovely…” He selects a pair of simple round studs—two carats each, mind you, so not small or cheap, only simple. “Such as these. Timeless classics. Not too gaudy, not too big, but they make a statement.”

She touches them reverently. “They’re stunning.”

He proffers them to her. “Try them on, please.”

She touches her earlobes. “I’ve never taken these out. I’ve had them in since I was seven. My mother pierced them herself at home, with a needle and an ice cube.”

“If you have a sentimental attachment to those, that’s a different story,” I say.

She considers. “I can keep them, to remind me of her.” Her eyes go to mine. “Silas, are you sure?”

I laugh. “Yes, honey. I’m absolutely certain.”

She bites her lip, looking back at the earrings in the jeweler’s hand. Then, hesitantly, she reaches up, tilting her head to one side, and removes one earring, and then the other. Holding the diamond stud with the utmost care, she fits the post through her ear, fiddles with the screw-on back for a moment, and then does the same on the other side. The jeweler holds up a mirror for her.

When she sees herself, she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “My goodness. I…Silas. They’re…”

They catch the light and shine like fire. She turns her head this way and that, blinking hard, gnawing on her lip.

“They’re perfect,” I say.

“They’re too much,” she whispers.

“They’re just the start,” I counter. “I’m gonna spoil the shit out of you, babe.”

She gazes up at me. “All I want or need is you.”

My heart expands to the point of cracking, the sincerity in her voice and the shine in her eyes are almost more than I can bear.

All I can do in response is kiss her, so long and so passionately that the poor jeweler clears his throat to politely interrupt us.

He reaches under the counter, withdraws a black velvet box, and carefully places Naomi’s old, tarnished silver hoops inside—honestly, they’re probably not even silver, but stainless steel or something even cheaper.

My eye is caught by a necklace in another case a few feet to my left: a platinum chain with a large tear-drop diamond pendant.

“And that,” I say, pointing at the necklace.

His eyes light up. “Ah, a fine choice, sir. I just got this one in the other day, and I just knew it was meant to grace the neck of a truly lovely woman. And here you are.” He’s really laying on the charm, but then, he smells a hell of a sale.

He hands me the necklace, and I move behind Naomi—she holds her hair up out of the way as I clasp it on her.

She looks in the mirror once more, and the watering of her eyes now spills over, twin tears trickling down her cheeks, quickly wiped away.

“Silas…why?” She turns to me, gazing up at me with wet storm cloud-gray eyes, the color they turn when she’s overcome by strong emotion.

“Because I can. Because I want to. Because you deserve beautiful things. Because I think you look even more beautiful than ever.” I lean close and whisper in her ear. “And because I want to see you wearing nothing but those diamonds.”

She blushes hard. “Silas,” she whispers, giggling. “Behave.” There’s no real scold in her voice.

I just laugh and surreptitiously give her delicious ass a gentle pat.

The Explorer is parked just two doors down, so I nudge Naomi. “Be right back. Getting some cash from the car. Stay right here, okay?”