An afternoon of elaborate gowns and glittering jewels flowed into an evening of frothing bubbles and rolling laughter. In a mark of balancing the scales for the combined generosity of Nora and Gage, Victory took charge and arranged for dinner at Soleil, occupying the largest table her restaurant had to offer in the semi-private upper landing so that everyone—family and friends—could enjoy a decadent meal, delicious wine and conversation.

How easy it was, she hadn't realized until the night was over, to fall into such a familiar rhythm with his parents, his friends—now her friends, she mused. Partaking in shared moments and memories and banter, with Gage on her left and her parents on her right, his hand linked in hers beneath the table to hold and caress.

And he never let it go, not even when the dinner was over and the time had come to part ways.

Sensing her sudden unease and urge to create distance, Gage did the only natural thing that came to him and tugged her closer. For a single, terrifying moment, Victory thought he meant to kiss her in front of her parents and struggled to break away—casually, but Gage was a strong man and held her close, his eyes fixed on her face, releasing her only enough so she could embrace his parents in goodbye.

"I hate to dine and dash," Victory apologized, kissing Nora's cheek and followed with Herbs, "but there are a few things I must see to, early in the morning, if I am to enjoy a weekend to myself."

"We understand," Nora beamed, sliding her eyes to Aubrey who also picked up on the way Gage kept his arm looped around Victory's slender waist. "We shall see you tomorrow, dear, before the gala. There's something I'd like to share with you before the event."

"Oh," Victory straightened, and with Gage glued to her side, she had no choice but to slip her arm around him or risk looking absolutely ridiculous. "Tomorrow, then. Mom?"

"Oh, go on sweetheart," Aubrey said with a breezy wave and an airy kiss. "Your father and I have ordered a bottle of Port, Nora and Herb have agreed to join us. Gage, please see she gets home."

"Absolutely." He beamed at Aubrey's discreet wink and expertly steered Victory out of the restaurant and to the darkened street.

"Jesus," she sighed, wrestling with his arm anchored around her. "I can't hail a cab if you won't let me go."

"The cab can wait a moment." He laughed, bringing her firmly against him, and as his gaze slid down to her mouth, despite all efforts, Victory's stomach fluttered in longing. Surrounded the entire evening, there hadn't been a single private moment to...

Anticipating him, taking control of the situation, she leaned in, her lips soft and undemanding, keeping the kiss itself soft and easy and unassuming. There, she thought, pleased with herself.

But his hand snaking up to hold the back of her neck firmly as she started to ease away, Oh no, Gage thought, not so fast. Changing angles, he dove in, deep and desperate, steering the kiss from the safe, calm waters to violent and turbulent waves, and dragged her deep into the hot and wild and threatening.

Legs buckling, the hand she'd casually laid on his shoulder curled into a greedy fist, gripping his jacket as she held on for one staggering moment. Mind swept blank, her pulse leapt to roar in her spinning head. Someone moaned, low and deep and long. The savage assault lasted only seconds, but the lingering effect carried all the shocking burn of a brand that seared low in the belly.

He saw the stunned arousal in her eyes when they opened and stared into his. So much for her attempts at cool, controlled, and distant, he mused, skimming his thumb along her jawline. Right now her blood burned as bright and hot as his, and for all of her evading and denial, Gage knew, without doubt or question, with the heat, also churned the emotions she seemed so afraid to hear.

"Where did that come from?"

"Blame the dress. Seeing you in it has messed with my mind all evening." And because he could no longer resist the desire or temptation, Gage slid his hands up along the lavender sheath of silk, skimming from hip to the sides of her breasts. The material was cool under his touch, a slick and unforgiving sort that told him she wasn't wearing much underneath.

"I'm taking you home." He said, voice deepening with a hunger she knew had nothing to do with food. "Invite me over, Victory." He bit her bottom lip, tugged. "Let me stay the night."

"No." She leaned away from him when his mouth swooped in to graze along the side of her jaw. "My parents."

"Are still inside enjoying themselves with my folks, and likely will be for another hour, at least."

"They'll come home eventually." She argued though her voice had gone a little raspy and uncertain. "And an hour isn't enough for you."

"It's okay. Your mom likes me. Your dad, too. They won't mind." To quell further argument, his tongue slid into her mouth to tease and torment another moan from her lips.

"I can't," she panted, struggling to think over the wave of desire beating her senseless. "I can't have sex with you while they're sleeping in the next room."

His lips found her neck, his hands her breasts where peaked nipples begged for his lips. Christ, he was almost ready to strip her bare and take her in the damn street. "I'll be quiet."

"You're never quiet and couldn't keep quiet if you wanted to."

His eyes lifted, shone with challenge. "Let's see. Bet I won't be the first to moan."

"Maybe not," Victory braced him back, her chest labouring for breath and her eyes glimmering with a hint of his daring, "but I'd make sure you'll certainly be the loudest. No, stay back," she laughed, swatting him away when he pressed in to claim her. "Go, Gage. Not tonight."

"Stay with me." He lifted her other hand, teeth nipping at her wrist. "You won't let me come to you, than stay with me." And not just for now, he wanted to add, but tomorrow—and the day after. Always. Stay with me.

Be mine.

"Tonight, no." Victory slid out of his arms, gave his cheek an easy kiss followed by a teasing wink. "Tomorrow, maybe."

He watched her go, leaning against the rusty coloured brick of Soleil's south facing wall with a smile on his face and a sigh in his heart.

His mind already fixed on tomorrow and what it would bring.

#

The hours, the minutes couldn't have slipped away fast enough for his thoughts were all focused, centered on the evening. And not because of the gala. Riding down in the elevator, Gage slipped the delicate little leather box in his hand. Cracking open the lid, he studied the large four carat radiant yellow diamond haloed in dazzling white and smiled.

He'd known it was meant for Victory the moment he'd set eyes on it, the stone as bright and dazzling as a full and golden sun, radiating the same warmth, the same light that Victory carried with her every day. For her the sun was a symbol of life and hope and all that she had built her dreams upon, For her he had captured sunlight in a symbol of his love and desire to spend all of his days by her side. And he wanted nothing more than to see it sitting on her finger, to know that she was his, and not just in heart, but in body and soul.

The car settled to a silent stop at the eighteenth floor and the doors whispered open. Stuffing the box back into his pocket, Gage found the door to 1818 and knocked, wondering, as he waited, what sort of reaction would first flash into Victory's eyes when he dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him?

When the door opened, his wandering thoughts were wiped away as his mother stood, draped in a gown of the gilded pale pink of sunrise that warmed her skin, flattered the green of eyes and blush of her lips. Her hair was short so styling was kept simple, smoothing it to a glossy sheen to frame the delicate bones and structure of her stately face, touched with only whispers and kisses of makeup.

"Just in time." She beamed, holding out a wrist draped with a slash of diamonds. "If you'd be so kind to clasp this, your father abandoned me for the promise of brandy in the club lounge with Roarke and Matthias."

Stepping inside the room, Gage shut the door, and then accepted the responsibility of securing the diamonds around her slender wrist. As he did so, Nora took a moment to absorb, as mother's often did, skimming her eyes over her son with loving pride. Such a handsome man, she thought, with his quietly intense eyes, now focused on the task. The tailored suit was more his style then the tux Roarke wore, clean and classically black without the embellishment or decoration of a bowtie, the top button undone in a crisp shirt, perfectly white.

He'd taken the time to pull back his hair, only a couple strands escaping, now looped behind his ears, and shaved the haze of stubble from his chin setting his arresting face on full and unapologetic display, looking every bit as polished and dashing as his older brother. Her heart clutched and seized with a sudden jolt of love and pride that was so strong it almost shook her.

Oh Herb, she sighed, we did good.

"There," he said, then brought her to the heart of the room, where the lighting was bright and took her in.

"Mom," thrusting his hands into his pockets, he shook his head, "you're a vision."

"Aren't you such a dear," Nora brought a hand to her sleek hair, gave it a pat and bounce.

He fingered the box in his pocket, the little black leather cube with a blazing yellow diamond haloed in platinum at its heart.

The sort of ritual and traditions of marriage hadn't particularly appealed to him before, but Gage wanted it with a desperate need he had never expected to feel, and with the need came fear, and it was that fear that drew Nora to pause, and fold her hands dutifully in front of her.

"Something's troubling you."

"You could say that." He smiled and the lightness of it soothed most of the concern from her brow. "I think...I think you know."

"Oh," Nora's heart leapt, stuttered and shone. And she did, she did indeed. "I've always encouraged you to follow your own heart, Gage. You don't need to look to me to tell you what you should and shouldn't do."

"I...I guess I'm asking..." Nervous he cleared his throat, jerked at the neck of his dress shirt, gave a stray thought to undoing a second button. "Before I go to her parents, I'm asking if you'll approve. For your blessing."

Pleased and a little weepy, she braced his shoulders, kissed him full and hard on the mouth. "You know I do." But she couldn't stop the flicker of concern, the shadow of doubt, no matter how much she wanted to.

Taking her hand in his, Gage held it firmly. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Though she wanted to spare him her worry, she'd never lied to her boys before, and wasn't about to start now. Smiling, she gave his chest a pat, freeing her hand from his as she turned to the dresser and mirror where her velvet-lined boxes sat, open and blazing with brilliant stones.

"She's a wonderful girl," Nora began delicately, setting a cluster of diamonds to her lobes. "Not as trusting or open as Shayne, and we both know the hoops Roarke leapt through to win her over."

"She'll come around." Relieved to hear that was the worst of it, Gage winked. "Never has there been a woman who could resist the Donovan charm for long."

"That is true." Nora's smile spread, gleaming as brightly as the diamonds she wore. "My darling boy," lovingly, she braced his shoulders, kissed both of his cheeks and tried not to weep. "I always wanted this for you. Love is a beautiful thing, and often it can be scary—something so vast and profound—as it should be, for a little bit of fear is what makes it strong, vital. And precious."

Linking their hands, Gage held on, his heart so bright and full he thought it might burst. Everything felt so right, he thought, so incredibly right he didn't know if he could keep himself together when so much wanted explode from inside. If this was love, he wondered how he had ever managed to exist without it. This deep and visceral knowing that was so profound.

"Look at the time," Nora gasped, gazing over at the flickering numbers on the nightstand clock. "They'll be here any moment. Shoo, off with you," she gave him a little wiggle of her hands, nudging him towards the door. "Like any gentleman, you shouldn't see your lady before she's dressed and ready."

Pausing before she could shut the door, Gage leaned in, kissed her soundly on the brow. "I love you, mom."

Tenderly, she stroked a hand along his cheek. "And I love you." Sighing, Nora shut the door and, careful not to ruin her makeup, dabbed the corners of her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

She had only a brief moment to gather and collect herself before the steady knock came. She opened it to Victory and almost, almost, found herself giving way to tears.

"Wonderful, you're just in time." Nora beamed, blinking back the press of them and holding the door wide so Victory could enter, her arms full of her dress wrapped in its garment bag. Setting it down, she took in Mrs. Donovan with a smile.

"Darcy was right, the colour is meant for no other woman than you." Hands free, she kissed Nora's cheek gently, and then sighed at the stretch of the suite. "This hotel is a marvel. I keep struggling to get my breath back. To see it all come together."

"What Gage can create with his mind, build with his hands is a gift." Pride beamed into her eyes. Her voice was mellow, with a sigh flirting on the edge of it. "He's always had an eye for beauty and nose for taste."

Sensing Nora spoke about more than just fixtures, furnishings and architectural design, Victory blushed, sweeping a hand over the edge of her dress she had yet to slide into. "I'll just be a moment." She said, carting the gown into the adjoining bathroom. It didn't take her long, and thanks to the clever fastenings, she did so unassisted.

When Victory came out, she found Nora seated on the edge of the bed.

"My dear," moved and a little stunned, Nora rose, braced a hand at her heart. My poor darling boy, she thought, he hasn't a hope in hell. If Gage wasn't already hopelessly in love, one glimpse of Victory now would send him reeling. "You are a vision." She said, echoing Gage's words.

Victory spun full circle, faced her reflection in the length of mirror, still too struck to think of anything to say. The gown was ethereal elegance, from the whisper soft fabric, pale as angel's wings and fairy dust, to the style of her hair pinned back with all the regal charm of old Hollywood.

"I've never worn anything so extravagant." She confessed, turning away from her reflection.

"Just one thing is missing." Gliding to the dresser where her jewels sat on display, Nora lifted one of the velvet boxes holding a blazing wreath of sapphires and as she brought them over, Victory's breath caught and clung.

"Mrs. Donovan. I couldn't possibly—"

"You can." Nora pressed. "And you will." Lopping the cool stones around her neck, Victory watched in the cool pane of glass as they sat against her skin, deep and spellbinding blue.

"Herb bought me this necklace after our ten year anniversary." She explained while she fixed the clasp. "There." Nora braced her shoulders, their gazes linking in the mirror. "Now you couldn't possibly be more perfect."