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“No strings attached?” What’s the catch? There must be a catch... right? “I may not agree to marry after a month,” I remind him.
"The money is yours, no matter what." His grin widens. “But you will.”
That grin is so potent, my thighs clench. And his cockiness shouldn’t be attractive, but it is, damn him. “I suppose this is a sign that you can be trusted to keep your promises?” I sniff.
“I do. I keep all of my promises.” A wicked look enters his eyes.
I have no doubt he’s referring to his promise of keeping me in orgasms, too. My cheeks flush, but I don’t look away. Fact is, I’ve wanted to say yes to him from the moment he proposed, but it seemed so wrong. How could I allow myself to marry a stranger—however hot he is? But he’s right. I need the money urgently. Now that I have it, I can use it to help my family. And I’m attracted to him. This marriage won’t be a chore. Really, any which way I look at it, I can’t lose in this arrangement. My financial problems resolved. I also get a husband I’m very attracted to. All I have to do is say yes.
I draw in a breath. “Okay.” I firm my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll do it.’
His gaze widens, his shoulders bunch, and then he seems to force himself to relax. “I want to take what you say at face value, but I must remind you again that you have the month to decide. Not that you need to use up all that time, of course.”
I shuffle my feet. He’s right. I can take my time to decide. Except, the more I analyze this situation, the more I look at the positives and negatives and mull over it, the more I know, I’ll get cold feet. I could walk away, as he said... And then what? Help my sister and my father and then... Return to my empty life? Sure, I’ll be able to pursue my career as a painter, but I’ll have missed out on this opportunity to explore this attraction between us. To find out about that part of me which he sparks and brings to the fore. To learn about my submissive side at the feet of a master. My master. To have him hold me, kiss me, make love to me... To follow my instincts and live spontaneously. To... be me. I can do this for myself. All I have to do is... say yes.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His entire body stiffens. I expect him to be triumphant, but what I see on his face is an intense need. One that turns my blood hot and my pussy into an answering miasma of want.
“Say it.” He searches my features. “Say that you’ll marry me.”
The command in his voice resonates with a primal side of me. My nipples bead. My scalp tingles. A bead of sweat slides down my spine. This is it. Say it aloud, and there’s no turning back. Say it aloud, and you might get to experience the passion you’ve only read about. That this man would turn my life upside down is a given. Would I be able to cope with it? I have to cope with it. I can cope with it.
“I’ll marry you.” I say with a surge of confidence that takes me by surprise, but which also feels so right.
He holds out his hand, and when I place mine in his, he tugs me close. The heat of his body warms me. His blue gaze smolders. There’s a serious look on his features. An intensity that holds me immobile.
"You’re so fucking beautiful. It screws with my head every time I see you, every time I—" He lowers his head until his nose is millimeters from the curve of where my neck meets my shoulder. He takes a deep sniff, but I'm the one who feels lightheaded. It feels like he’s inhaling me, storing up my scent in his lungs. Committing my very essence to the memory in his cells. It feels more intimate than having his lips on my cunt. It feels so intimate, so erotic, so compelling, I almost throw myself at his feet and beg him to fuck me. His eyes blaze, he leans in closer, then seems to get ahold of himself.
He straightens and that burning gaze of his turns cold again. "My son is not ready to let you go... yet."
I swallow. "I know."
"And this time, I’m not going to avoid the issue.” His voice is resolute. “I know how tricky it’s going to make this for you, but I can’t run from this. I need to resolve the issues between us.” He runs his thumb across the sensitive skin of my wrist, and my pulse leaps.
The ice in his eyes cracks and silver sparks flare. “I have to try. You understand?” His voice is hoarse and vibrates with an emotion that touches me on a primal level.
"I do,” I croak through the ball of emotion that’s taken up residence in my throat.
The left side of his mouth quirks in that half smile that, I swear, I can feel all the way to my toes. He’s so potent, so ridiculously male, so yummy I want to climb him like a tree, then proceed to lick him all over. As if he senses my thoughts, his smile widens.
“I’m not saying I have the answers. But what I know is, I’d rather have him here so I can communicate with him and explain more of where I’m coming from—which should, hopefully, help.” He half laughs. “At the same time, I... We don’t need his approval.”
We don’t? I don’t say it aloud, but he must read my thoughts from my expression for he shakes his head. “He’s my son, and I will try my best to make him see reason. But my decisions don’t need his blessing.”
“And me?” I hunch my shoulders. “Felix is... was my friend.” After what he did, he doesn’t deserve my friendship. But it can’t be easy for him to see me with his father and I can’t help feeling sorry for him.
“And he decided not to marry you. If we’re happy, he'll realize we’re right for each other, and he'll understand.”
“I envy your confidence. I wish I felt half as assured as you in this.” Though something in me tells me to trust him on this.
“I can only follow my instincts in this,” he offers.
“The way you followed them when you proposed to me?”
“And you see where that got me. We’re getting married in less than a month.”
“Less than a month?” I gape at him.
