Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
All I know is that the old man detonated a bomb in my life, and the motherfucker is still exploding.
I watch her shoulders rise and fall with every breath, trying like hell to convince myself that I don't want to want her. But I'm no longer sure if that's true. I feel like I'm raging against the goddamn wind, trying to convince it to hear me. But the wind never cared how much we scream into it. It does what the fuck it's going to do regardless.
She slowly turns to face me, and my goddamn heart stops.
"Shit," I growl, rocking back on my heels. She's even more beautiful in person than in her photos. Those eyes…goddamn those eyes. They're startling, vivid amber with tiny blue flecks. Fierce intelligence blazes like the sun in them as she meets my gaze, searching, assessing.
It's almost like she's looking for something. It's obvious she's nervous, but she tries like hell not to let it show. She's a brave little goddess, trembling and too fucking sweet.
"You know who I am," she finally says, her tongue skating across her full bottom lip.
"Why wouldn't I?" I arch a brow. "We're betrothed, are we not?" The word feels wrong on my tongue. This isn't how any of this shit is supposed to happen.
Seconds tick by as we stare at each other, the air crackling with tension. It's like it's alive between us, a current of energy shifting and contorting between us…drawing me closer. I shove my hands into my pockets and plant my feet, fighting like hell to stay away from her, to not give into whatever madness this is. But I feel it. Christ, it's alive between us, raising hairs on the back of my neck, whispering through my fucking veins.
No.
It doesn't matter how fascinating she is or how intense the attraction is; this can't happen. The last thing she needs in her life is a motherfucker like me.
After a long moment, she finally speaks again, a challenge in her voice. "So we are. But I can't help but wonder…"
"Wonder what?" I practically growl, desperate to know what she's thinking about, what's turning over in her mind.
"Is it the office that's the prison or the fact that you just found out about the marriage contract?"
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth grind. Fuck. I don't want to answer that question. No matter what I say, the answer is guaranteed to hurt her feelings. I don't want to do that. She's not the one I'm angry with.
In my world, happily-ever-after doesn't exist. It's just a lie we tell ourselves until something comes along and rips it all away. And I already live with the scars of losing one family. I'm not willing to add a whole new set. I won't ever be that vulnerable again.
But goddamn. She's even more tempting in person. The way her curvy body moves, the fierce intelligence sparking in her eyes, the fullness of her lips. I want to peel that tight dress off her and see all of her. Want to feel her soft skin against mine as I…
Fuck. I shove the thoughts away, ruthlessly trying to quell the desire coursing through my veins.
Does she even want this marriage herself? I can't help but think she's only here because her entire future demands it. She has no choice, not if she wants to keep her company. According to the old man, her fucking father wants a piece of Grady Records so badly, he's threatening to leave her with nothing if he doesn't get it.
Marriage is a cage for her, too; only she has fewer options than I do. I don't want to be a jailer. Especially not to a woman like her—one meant to be free.
And yet…the paperwork is still in my fucking desk.
I rake a hand through my hair, suddenly exhausted. Weary of fighting my grandfather, my mind…my own churning emotions. It's all I've done for the last six weeks.
"Why are you here, Tempest?" I ask, my voice sharp, far sharper than I intended.
She glances aside, her amber eyes drifting from mine. I don't think she intends for me to see it, but something sad shifts through her eyes before she manages to hide them from me.
My heart clenches at the sight.
Fucking hell. She wants this sham of a marriage, doesn't she?
"I came to set you free," she says quietly, her face a mask of determination even as her lush mouth trembles.
I blink at her, uncomprehending as she does the same fucking thing the old man did—detonates a bomb in my life. "What are you—?"
She throws up a hand, cutting me off. "I'm not interested in marrying a man more interested in my company than me." Her eyes blaze with a savage light, a fierceness that makes my cock throb in my slacks. "I don't care who he is or how much he's worth."