I’m prepared for a wreck. Ready to exclaim that we’ll have to call the stylist back, we’ll have to get her to rush, but—

I’m in one piece. He hasn’t disturbed a hair on my head. The elegant knot is still in place, and so is my makeup, though my lips are slightly swollen and redder than they were before.

Leo squeezes my wrists, a light touch that says stay where you are, and reaches into his pocket. I feel almost unwell with love for him. The only solution is to get into bed immediately. But Leo has no intention of going to bed.

The necklace makes that clear.

He eases cool metal against my skin and skims his fingers around to the clasp at the back. Leo laughs, his grin heartstopping in the reflection, and I meet my own eyes there. They’re wide and shocked, as if I’ve just now discovered myself here. Rubies and diamonds and emeralds glint at my neck. “Okay,” I say. “This is too much. This is way, way too much.”

Leo finishes with the clasp and tugs my hands away from his belt. I get to watch in the mirror while he folds his arms over mine, pressing me fully against his body so I can feel his clothes and muscle and bone and exactly how much he’d like to fuck me right now. He looks me in the eye, through the glass.

“Tell me, darling.” The conversational tone gives me shivers. “Who gets to hurt you?”

“You.”

He nips at my earlobe. “Who gets to make you feel helpless and afraid?”

“You.”

Leo tightens his grip, the subtle movement compressing my lungs so I don’t have as much room to breathe. And I find, in a way that’s probably very wrong, that I don’t want more room to breathe.

“And who gets to love you and fuck you and own you for the rest of time?”

“You do.”

“Anyone else?”

“No,” I whisper. “Only you.”

“Then believe me when I say that nothing is too much for you. No gown or necklace or ring around your finger will ever be enough.”

“But—”

But what if it’s not? My most secret fear is that even with this necklace and this gown, even looking as good as I do, that I won’t fit in at the party. His family won’t accept me, or worse, I’ll make a fool of myself. Embarrass him somehow. I was always an embarrassment at the Constantine parties. The same thing could happen again. It isn’t like our engagement party, when Leo was in charge of everything.