waterproof and had pro cameras. He made us upgrade to the latest model every time a new one was released even though year old phones worked just fine. But that wasn’t the point apparently.
Our pastries arrived and the maid laid them on the table before hurrying away again. I nabbed myself a croissant and picked it apart, sighing as I pushed a piece into my mouth and the buttery goodness melted on my tongue. “Where the hell has Saint gotten to?”
“He’s probably gone to war with that seabird who shat on him yesterday,” Kyan called over with a snort, his inked arm falling out the hammock and his fingers grazing across the wooden floor.
“Well he’s going to miss out on the fun,” I said with a laugh as I remembered Saint’s horror at the bird shitting on him. He’d lamented over his ruined Ralph Lauren shirt and cursed the creature and several generations of its family.
I tugged my feet out of the grip of Nash and Blake’s hands and used my toes to caress their dicks. They grinned demonically at me as I bit my lip, but before I could get carried away with that idea, the door banged and Saint came striding out onto the veranda. He leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek then swept past me to the edge of the balcony, looking like he had some announcement to make. He was dressed in chinos and a white shirt which brought out the rich, earthiness of his eyes. Saint made dressing down look like he was on an expensive photoshoot at all times.
“Where have you been hiding?” I asked, sweeping my hair away from my shoulders so it hung over the back of the chair.
“I’ve been finishing up the final arrangements,” he said, his eyes dancing with some secret and I frowned.
“For?” Nash pressed.
“For our wedding day,” Saint announced, grinning at me.
“What?” I laughed in confusion as Kyan sat upright in his hammock and nearly fell out of it.
Blake and Nash shared a look as I drew my feet out of their laps and gave Saint my full attention. If there was one thing I knew about Saint Memphis, it was that he didn’t joke about matters to do with our relationship. If he said there was a wedding organised, there was a freaking wedding organised.
“I spent some time researching where we could have a wedding which would cater to our needs. A few countries in Africa were an option for a while, but I would have had to pay off too many corrupt people to allow a woman to marry multiple men rather than the other way around. So I decided that route was too complex. That was when I discovered the polyandrous laws on these islands where a woman can lawfully wed several husbands if she is of higher status than the men. Which of course, was easy to prove as our girl is a queen and the Marquesans seemed more than happy to accommodate our situation without very much persuasion at all.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, hope filling my voice. “I can have all of you as my husbands?” The idea made me so freaking giddy that I got out of my chair and ran over to grab Saint’s arm, waiting anxiously for his answer.
He cupped my cheek, his thumb carving a line up to the scar on my temple. “Yes, siren. You can. And I truly beg that you do.” He dropped down onto one knee suddenly and I gasped as he took a white ring box from his pocket, popping it open. The sun flashed on the most beautiful round cut diamond I’d ever seen sitting in a delicate clasp with a vintage design. It was huge, a fucking boulder of a diamond and I was utterly speechless as Saint offered it to me, his eyes full of hope and happiness.
“I’m a commoner before a queen,” he rasped. “Begging to enter her palace and lay all he is at her feet. I am yours whether you accept this ring or not, but if you were to wear it, I would want for nothing more in all the years left to me in this lifetime.”
“Hang the fuck on,” Blake balked before I could answer, my heart pounding as I got lost to the question Saint had sprung on me. “You can’t just show up with a ring looking like a damn prince while we’re sitting here half-naked with nothing to offer