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“Then you never should’ve signed that contract.” He runs a hand through his hair, and I realize it can’t be the first time. As polished as his suit is, his hair is tousled. And his eyes are dark.
I don’t think Arsen has slept in days.
His jaw works back and forth as he meets my eyes. “You’re pregnant with my child. It puts you at unique risk. A marriage would legitimize our connection and give you added protection.”
“Far be it from me to keep hammering this point, but it didn’t do a damn thing for Natascha!”
Something like pain flashes across his face before he schools it away. “I was lax with her security. More than I should’ve been. Her death…” He pauses for a second. “The blame is on me.”
Damn all the soft parts of me, but I find myself sympathizing with him. Some of my fight—not all of it, but some crucialamount—seeps away. I slump down on the bench. “It must have been hard for you to watch her die.”
He lifts his chin, as proud and defiant as I’ve ever seen him. “Death is inevitable for all of us. There’s no sense wasting time being sad for what was always going to come.”
“What about your mother?” I blurt. “You were sad when she died, weren’t you?”
He freezes. “Polina shouldn’t have told you about her.”
Now isn’t the right time for this conversation. But, then again, it’s hard to find any time at all to talk with Arsen. It’s now or never.
“You’ve been through the same thing I’m going through now,” I say quietly. “You could’ve told me. It would have been nice to know.”
Arsen gazes out over the garden. “The doctors I referred you and your mother to were the same ones who treated my mother.”
“They said there’s nothing they can do for her. They said it’s just a matter of time.”
He rocks on his heels. His hands stay firmly in his pockets. “Then I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you have feelings now,” I snap, suddenly irritable again. “This heartfelt little moment we just shared doesn’t change anything.” I lurch up, ignoring the pain in my hip. “I’m still not marrying you.”
He cuts in front of me before I can take so much as a single step down the gravel path back to the mansion. The moonlight draws harsh lines on every chiseled plane of his face.
“I don’t care who the hell you are, you’re not forcing me into this, Arsen Adamov.”
I brace myself for what must be coming next: his wrath, his cruelty, his ice-coldYou will do as I command.
Then his hand presses to my stomach, soft as a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t intend to force you into anything, Laila Barnes. In five minutes, you’re going to walk in there with me and willingly agree to marry me.”
“Unless you plan to perform a record-fast lobotomy on the lawn, there is no way in hell that is going to happen.”
“It is going to happen. No surgery required.”
He smiles, and the stupid butterflies in my stomach take flight, those fickle, unfaithful little bitches.
“Tell me: why would I ever choose to marry you?”
“Because—” He takes another step closer, his scent swirling around me, heat pouring off of his skin. “—it’s the only way you’ll get to be a part of this baby’s life.”
My stomach drops. My heart flips. There’s a ringing in my ears that wasn’t there a second ago.
I think it’s wedding bells.
Because it looks like we’re getting married, after all.
20
ARSEN
Laila is trembling like a leaf in my borrowed sweats. She keeps peeking over at Dominik like he might whisk her off the altar and away from all of this.
