He frowned. “Didn’t you read the note I sent with it?”

“It didn’t come with a note.”

His eyes flashed with anger, then settled into a look of disappointment. “It’s not that important, I guess. But they’re not a loan, Zarya. They’re a gift.”

Go on, keep talking, buddy. Dig yourself in deeper.

“Why?” she asked, hoping she was wrong.

That turned him defensive, which made her suspicions grow. “Do I have to have a reason to give you a present?”

“If you’re giving it to me because you don’t want me to embarrass you, then yes.”

Darling choked at her unexpected, and highly erroneous assumption. Indignant, he glared at her. “How could I ever be embarrassed by you?”

“I know I’m technically no longer an aristo, but—”

“Zarya…” He placed his hands on her arms and stared into her amber eyes, hoping she could see how sincere he was. “You are an aristo. Your father may have been stripped of his titles and money, but your blood is as noble as anyone’s in the CDS, and it’s as royal as mine. I picked that set for you because I thought they’d be beautiful on you and I was right. Most of all, when my valet brought in my harone, it dawned on me that you didn’t have any jewelry of your own. I wanted to give you some because I thought it would make you happy. That was the only thing that motivated me. I swear.”

Zarya wanted to weep as she heard those words. And here she’d tainted his beautiful gift. Suddenly, she felt stupid for doubting him when he had never given her a reason to.

Rather, she’d attacked him out of her own insecurity and for the views that had been held by her last boyfriend.

“Damn, Zarya. Can’t you at least try to look like a woman when we go out? The last thing I want is for someone to think I’m dating a man or a hobo.”

It wasn’t fair to Darling when he had never once said anything negative about how she dressed or looked. “I’m sorry, Darling. I didn’t mean to be so shrewish.”

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “It’s all right. My nerves are shot, too. I hate doing shit like this just as much as you do.”

Clenching his teeth, he went over to his dresser and picked up a pair of darkly tinted glasses. Not quite as dark as sunglasses, they shielded her ability to see his eyes.

She scowled in confusion. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know your vision was impaired.”

“I don’t. But in the event I have to read something, I can’t afford to let them know that I have a problem. Plus, if my eyes start jerking, I definitely don’t want them to see it… I’m hoping these will help me keep both secrets.”

That made sense.

“They look great on you, by the way.”

Darling appreciated her compliment. But even so, he had a terrible feeling about the meeting tonight—it was the same uneasy feeling he’d had the night before Clarion’s attack. Every instinct he possessed told him something bad was going to happen.