“I have something for you,” he said, his tone conversational.
“Oh?”
“Your hand-me-down, remember? You said that was allowable.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess I did say that.”
He chuckled at my reluctance.
“It’s up in my room. Shall I go get it?”
His bedroom? “Sure,” I agreed, feeling quite devious as I wound my fingers through his. “Let’s go.”
He must have been eager to give me my non-present, because human velocity was not fast enough for him. He scooped me up again and nearly flew up the stairs to his room. He set me down at the door, and darted into his closet.
He was back before I’d taken a step, but I ignored him and went to the huge gold bed, plopping down on the edge and then sliding to the center. I curled up in a ball, my arms wrapped around my knees.
“Okay,” I grumbled. Now that I was where I wanted to be, I could afford a little reluctance. “Let me have it.”
Edward laughed.
He climbed onto the bed to sit next to me, and my heart thumped unevenly. Hopefully he would write that off as some reaction to him giving me presents.
“A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. He pulled my left wrist away from my leg, and touched the silver bracelet for just a moment. Then he gave me my arm back.
I examined it cautiously. On the opposite side of the chain from the wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart-shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled in a low gasp.
“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme and Alice both. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.”
I smiled ruefully at his assurance.
“But I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”
“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”
I twisted my wrist so the heart would glimmer. “Thank you. For both.”
“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.
I leaned into him, ducking my head under his arm and cuddling into his side. It probably felt similar to snuggling with Michelangelo’s David, except that this perfect marble creature wrapped his arms around me to pull me closer.
It seemed like a good place to start.
“Can we discuss something? I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”
He hesitated for a moment. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now.
“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.” I cleared my throat. “So . . . I was impressed by how well we were able to compromise the other night. I was thinking I would like to apply the same principle to a different situation.” I wondered why I was being so formal. Must be the nerves.
“What would you like to negotiate?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
I struggled, trying to find exactly the right words to open with.
“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. Are you all right?”
“I’m great.”
“Please go on then,” he encouraged.
“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition thing.”
“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?”
“I was wondering . . . is that open to negotiation?”
Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away — I’ve agreed to take your life away against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”
“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing my . . . renovations right now. I want to hammer out some other details.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”
I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first.”
“You know what I want.”
“Matrimony.” I made it sound like a dirty word.
“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”
The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”
“Well,” he said, and his face was calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours . . . like tuition money. So there would be no problem with Dartmouth.”