“Stop sketching. Relax for a moment.”
Jonathan suddenly snatched the pencil from Niamh’s hand.
He held her right hand in his own.
The little daisy ring still gleamed on her middle finger—the same one Peter had given her.
Jonathan’s dark eyes narrowed, and without a word, he slipped the ring off her finger.
Niamh tensed, her nerves prickling. She had the uneasy sense that if they weren’t on a plane right now, Jonathan might have hurled the ring straight out the window.
Quickly, she snatched the ring back from him and tucked it safely away.
Before she could recover, Jonathan reached for her left hand.
She looked at him, confused.
Then she saw him pull a velvet box from the pocket of his suit trousers.
Judging by the size of the box, there could be little doubt what was inside.
Niamh’s eyes went wide as Jonathan slid a diamond ring onto her left ring finger.
Just a moment ago, he’d asked her for the signed divorce papers—now he was putting a diamond on her finger? And not just any finger—the left ring finger.
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest.
Three years ago, Jonathan had proposed to her in the same forceful, uncompromising way—slipping the wedding ring onto her hand whether she wanted it or not. At the time, she’d been so moved, tears had welled in her eyes.
Now, she lowered her gaze to the dazzling ring on her finger.
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