Angel’s Promise by Aleatha Romig

Emma

Tonight would be my third night on the third floor, and I had to admit my resistance to the attraction of Everett Ramses was waning.

“I don’t want you up here any longer,” Rett said, standing with me in the suite’s library. With the ceiling above us open, under the evening stars, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

Keeping him at bay during most of our days, I couldn’t deny the draw when we were together. In his arms, I was adrift on a cloud of Rett Ramses. The intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with bodywash filled my senses. The key in my jewelry box gave me hope. And his dark gaze focused only on me was like a ray of sunshine that warmed me from within.

Nevertheless, I knew that I was perched on the precipice of the stand I took—my line in the sand. As my breasts flattened against his wide chest, his upsetting behavior was in the past. In the present, I was once again seeing the fairy tale of honeymoons and happily-ever-afters.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want those things.

I did, more than I cared to admit.

Despite what he’d done, I was completely under Everett Ramses’s spell.

Perhaps my stubbornness in remaining on the third floor stemmed from something deeper, similar to my desire to retain my name, Emma at the least.

This past month and a half had been crazy—to understate it. My world was upended much like a boat capsized during a hurricane. With all that had changed, I needed to hold on to me in some form. If I stayed with the boat analogy, I couldn’t sink. I couldn’t fall so far into the depths of the ocean that was Everett Ramses that in the process I was lost at sea.

It reminded me of how it had been with his desire for my submission. I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to comply and yet stay true to me—not a version of me created by Rett.

Moving to the third floor had been my stand. I would maintain it for now.

“I’m still...” I wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

He lifted my chin. “This temper tantrum has gone on long enough. I could insist.”

My chest filled as I inhaled. “It isn’t a temper tantrum. There is no yelling. This is me making my own decision. I suppose you can insist, but I promise that wouldn’t accomplish your goal.”

“If my goal is to have you close, it would.”

“In proximity” —I laid my hand over the buttons of his shirt— “or here?”

“I’ve told you there isn’t some magical or symbolic organ present in there, Emma.” He laid his hand between my breasts. “Not like there is in here. You’re too good and too forgiving for your heart to be gone.”

“Mine isn’t gone, Rett. It was taken and broken, and what remains is guarded very closely. That’s why I won’t come downstairs yet. I’m not ready. As I said, you could insist, but if you do, you won’t like the result.”

The tips of his lips curled. “Are you threatening me, Mrs. Ramses?”

“Are you scared?”

“Not in the least. Throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you down the stairs sounds appealing.”

I wanted to say that it didn’t not sound appealing to me, but instead, I moved the conversation forward. “Rett, I’m asking for your patience and calling on our deal, the one we made the other day. I fulfilled my part by signing the marriage certificate again. And you may recall, I added the addendum of additional clauses as they came to me. That is still in effect.”

Rett lifted my left hand in the palm of his hand and brought his left hand beside it. “You asked for a ring. I’m wearing it.”

I’d looked at the ring off and on since that night but not as closely as I was seeing it now. I reached for his hand and studied the large piece of jewelry. “Is that the Ramses crest?”

“A little smaller than in the courtyard.”

“Not much,” I said with a smile. “Where did you get it?”

“The safe. It’s where most of the jewelry comes from.”

“Is that similar to where they keep the Queen of England’s crown jewels?”

“Smaller.” He inhaled and exhaled as he looked down at the ring and back to me. “You won’t come downstairs.” It wasn’t a question. “I’d like to stay here for a while?”

This new part of our courtship had been growing since my move. The first night after our dinner, Rett had said goodnight to me at the door. Last night, he’d entered the suite for a short time.

A grin came to my lips. “I’m not sure you’re used to the word no, so I won’t push it.” I gestured toward the long chair, wide enough for two. This suite had many things; a place for entertaining wasn’t one. “Shall we sit?”

After Rett removed his suit coat and turned off the lights and I slipped out of my high heels, we both situated ourselves on the chaise. With the ceiling open and the night sky overhead, we stared upward. The setting of the sun had lowered the temperature. Still wearing the dress I’d chosen for dinner, I curled into Rett’s side.

His arm behind my back pulled me closer. “I like this.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure you don’t.”

His warm breath teased my cheek and hair. “You’re wrong. I like having you close.”

Again, I reached for his hand. “Will you tell me about the ring?”

For longer than I expected, the library filled with a silent pause, one that lingered as the stars through the ceiling skylight came to life in the black velvet sky. As I was about to comment, Rett began.

“This ring belonged to my father.” He turned his hand this way and that. “I quite honestly never intended to wear it.”

Part of me wanted to interrupt, to ask questions, but as he spoke, I heard more than Rett’s words. His story didn’t stop there. There were clues in his pauses and meaning in the tone and timbre of his offering. Instead of speaking, I curled closer, laid my head on his shoulder, and waited for more.

“Most people would assume I hated my father. I am, after all, the reason he’s dead.”

I couldn’t not look up. “You are?”

“I told you once that I sold my soul to become the devil.”

“You said that your father and my father decided they couldn’t co-rule anymore. You said they both succumbed to their injuries. I assumed the injuries were inflicted by one another.”

“Some have assumed as much. After all this is New Orleans and truth seldom overcomes lore. Nevertheless, that wasn’t what happened. Those who are important know the truth.”

“I don’t understand.”

Rett sighed and laid his head back on the chair. Though he was looking upward, I had the sense that he was seeing another time. He went on, “I told you that both Abraham Ramses and Isaiah Boudreau underestimated their opponent. I was their opponent. Neither realized what was happening. My father assumed I was present in that warehouse as his son, his second, and the person who had his back. You see, Emma, to rule New Orleans, I couldn’t be second. The cost of my position was our fathers’ lives. I’d considered every possible scenario where my father would live.” He stilled for a moment. “I didn’t hate him.” His head shook. “There was no alternative. Nothing short of his death would have worked.”

I didn’t respond. Truly words weren’t forming as I let Rett’s confession settle into my consciousness.

He reached for my chin, and turned it toward him. “This shouldn’t be a shock, Emma. Have I ever led you to believe I’m a good man?”

“Not in words, Rett, but in actions.”

“I kill and steal. It’s what I do.”

I shook my head. “You aren’t the monster you profess. The mythical creature with red skin, horns, and a pitched fork wouldn’t have saved me when I ran; he wouldn’t make me feel special, offer me hope, or give me a key. You may see yourself as the devil, but I don’t.”

“Even after the other day?”

I kill and steal—it was what he’d just said.

The other day he stole or took.

I inhaled. “You’re not perfect.” I lifted his hand. “But neither am I.” I looked up at the sky and sighed. “Can you explain how that meeting ended in their deaths?”

“I don’t care to relive it.” Before I could respond, he went on, “I can tell you that it was an unlikely chain of events. There had been problems in the world they ruled. Without details, there are networks that require protection and promises that must be kept. Things were getting out of hand with a supplier of...a product. Rumors flew that pit my father against yours. I wasn’t convinced that the time was right to go forward with my plan, but at the same time, the opportunity presented itself and I took it—stole it. Your father was the one who called the meeting.”

“Did you do it alone?”

“I didn’t. While I’m the one who sits on the throne, taking and keeping that throne requires support. I’d been working toward the coup and had soldiers strategically set.”

I wasn’t certain what made me think of my next question. There were so many conflicting thoughts in my mind. Yet before I could consider my question’s ramifications, I asked, “Did your mother know?”

“That I killed my father?” Rett’s head shook. “Did she know that her son, her only child, took the life of the only man she truly loved?”

Instead of answering, I let Rett continue.

“I never told her.”

“Did she know?”

“If she did, she made the decision to not confront me. I suppose she understood enough of the world to realize her choice: acknowledge what I’d done and lose her husband and her son or be the grieving widow and hold tight to her son. She chose the second option.”

I nodded. I didn’t know much about Miss Marilyn, but if I were to believe Miss Guidry, his mother loved Rett. It was true what was said about love blinding people. It didn’t have to be the sensual love between two people. A mother’s love could also be blinding.

“From everything you and Miss Guidry say, I would have liked to meet her.”

It was his first smile. “I wish you could. I suppose in a way I’m responsible for her death too.”

I sat up with my hand on his chest, the fabric of his shirt holding his body heat. “You’re too quick to assign your own blame.”

“No, I’m in charge of everything. I’m ultimately responsible.”

“How are you responsible for her death?”

“She never asked what happened, but the loss of my father left her—brokenhearted. Death by a broken heart. I suppose that’s why mine is gone, a way to ensure I never suffer the same ailment.”

His confessions made me sad. I didn’t want to think about the particulars, what exactly happened in that warehouse or how Miss Marilyn suffered without Abraham. Instead, I wanted to help Rett.

“What made you decide to wear the ring?” I asked, moving away from the subject of Miss Marilyn.

“You asked me to, Emma.”

I grinned. “I asked for a ring. In this magical jewel-filled safe, does there not exist any other masculine rings?”

“I didn’t look.” He was back to peering upward toward the sky. “I knew which ring I wanted when I set out for the safe. I earned this ring. Not by taking my position. Not by facilitating the death of our fathers, but in the seven years since. Taking power isn’t as difficult as maintaining it. I’ve done that. Having you here beside me has brought that home.”

He looked down and turned his hand so ours were palm to palm. Our fingers intertwined as he continued, “My father was a better man than I am. He ruled without question but didn’t lose his heart. Even with Boudreau, they had a strange kind of understanding. I never understood it until you.”

“Me?”

“Emma, you belong here. I severed a longstanding agreement between our two families that I didn’t understand. I’ve survived over the last almost eight years, but I did so without living. In the last six weeks, I have gotten a taste of what life can be if I’m willing to reinstitute the generations-long agreement. We’re now married.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Signed, sealed, delivered. The certificate may say a Ramses and an O’Brien, but the reality is we are a Ramses and a Boudreau. Together we will rule the city, the parishes, and wards. New Orleans will continue its path forward, not only maintaining its position in the country and world but increasing its significance in the global arena.”

“I’m hardly ruling, Rett. I haven’t left this house in those six weeks you’ve found life.”

“There’s a lot you need to understand.”

“Then teach me.”

He was quiet for a bit as I again laid my head on his shoulder. The sound of our breathing lulled me into a sense of contentment. The faint thump of my pulse was a faraway drum. The evening air took on a chill as I huddled closer to Rett’s side.

After all that had transpired over the last few days, I was teetering on the brink of slumber when Rett spoke. “Mrs. Ramses, tomorrow evening, I propose a tour of your city and a dinner not in this house.”

I sat forward. “What about Kyle?”

“His quest is over. Once you’re made public, he won’t be able to substantiate his claim. Jezebel North had one child with Isaiah Boudreau, one pregnancy. You are that child.”

As Rett began to stir, I bit my tongue. If I didn’t, I would have asked him to stay or admitted I wanted to go with him. It wasn’t sex that I was after but what we had been doing, were sharing at this moment—his brutal honesty and sincerity.

Everett Ramses was a multidimensional and complicated man. The one with me tonight wasn’t the man I met at the restaurant, cocky and confident, domineering and self-assured. That wasn’t to insinuate that this Rett was any less the man who had captured my attention. In this shared moment under the blanket of stars, he became more. He exposed a layer he’d kept hidden. I recognized what he’d done as a present. It was as much a gift as the jewelry he’d given and the key he’d tied with a ribbon.

I walked with him to the door.

With my feet now bare, I had the sensation I’d had on our first meeting. My toes stretched as we kissed goodnight. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

His long finger skirted over my cheek. “You can and will hate me for things in our future, Emma, but never will I lie to you.”

I swallowed and nodded. It was the realization I’d come to, even regarding what had happened in his inner office.

“Goodnight.”

After Rett left, I climbed alone into the big bed. As I slipped into sleep, I took a moment to examine the many gifts he’d bestowed, and I realized that each was invaluable in its own way.

What increased their value was the difficulty I believed that it took for him to part with them. Whether it was granting me control of locks or sharing his tragic past, Everett Ramses rarely relinquished anything. The fact he’d given me both was monumental.