I set down my glass, opening the box with deliberate slowness. Inside lay a bold, gold necklace in the shape of a leopard—wild, aggressive and completely not my style. I glanced at it, unimpressed and closed the lid with a snap, pushing the box aside.
Zane shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. "What, you don't like it?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he'd brought me a bouquet of daisies and not a gaudy piece of jewelry worth thousands.
I met his gaze, my voice steady. "You know I don't like flashy designs like that. And it looks like a snake. I hate snakes."
Zane raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A snake? It's a leopard. How can you confuse the two?"
I rolled my eyes, pushing the box toward him. "This wasn't even your choice, was it? Maeve picked it out, didn't she?"
Maeve Davenport was my husband's secretary and also his childhood sweetheart. The same woman who gave him a bouquet of bright red roses at the company's banquet.
His smirk faded and he averted his gaze, pretending to yawn. "She helped," he admitted, shrugging. "You know I don't understand these things."