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His fingers slid together as his hands rested against each other. “If it was just a night, would you say yes?—”

“Yes.”

He stilled, giving a nod so subtle his head barely moved. “Tonight?”

“Sure.”

His thumbs started to move together.

“Sex is a much smaller payment than marriage,” I said. “So, how about we do that instead? We have our dinner then go back to my apartment and do whatever the fuck you want. Then tomorrow, you return the business to us and disappear.”

“Do whatever the fuck I want…” He turned his eyes away, and a smirk moved across his lips. “Fuck, you’re killing me.”

“Then take the deal.”

He continued to let his eyes sit on something else in the room, his mind thinking. “That’s a very uneven trade?—”

“No condom.” I could deal with Axel for a night. Could go through the motions to save the business—and get an orgasm or two along the way.

His eyes shifted back to me, and he gave a heavy sigh. “Baby, you know your audience?—”

“Call me that again, and I’m walking out of here.”

He started to massage his knuckles. “As enticing as that is…no deal.”

The disappointment was so potent, it was actually painful.

“My offer stands.”

“If all you want is to fuck me, then why marriage?—”

“I never said all I wanted was to fuck you. I said I wanted you—and that meant all of you.”

“And why would you want that?” I snapped.

He paused before he answered, his expression hardening. “Because these past six months have been the shittiest of my life.”

I stared as I felt the rage explode inside me. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t endearing. “How’s Cassandra doing?” I was so mad that it just came out, firing bullets without truly aiming.

“I haven’t spoken to her since that night.”

“Since you fucked her.”

“I didn’t fuck her?—”

“I can’t have a conversation with you if you’re just going to lie.”

He stared for a long time before he released a heavy sigh. “I’ve thought about you every day these last six months. What happened between us was…a very shitty sequence of events, and this time apart has only shown me how much you mean to me. I fucking miss you.”

I wouldn’t let his words worm their way into my heart and poison my mind. “You know, most guys send flowers and a card.”

“I know you,” he said quietly. “I know you’ll never take me back?—”

“Damn right.”

“So this is the only way I get what I want.”

“To marry a woman who hates you?”

“You don’t hate me,” he said quietly. “I understand I hurt you and you’re angry, but I know you don’t hate me.”

I wanted to tell him I despised him, that I’d never hated someone so much in my life, fire off insults left and right…but I couldn’t. Despite what he did, I still cared about him, which was fucking pathetic.

“Marry me, and you get what you want.”

I was quiet.

He stared like he’d just proposed and waited for an answer.

The waiter came over and pushed the tension away like it was a cloud of smoke.

Axel ordered for himself then ordered me the gnocchi, as if he knew I wasn’t really hungry anyway, so whatever he ordered was just fine.

The waiter disappeared.

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t receptive to the idea.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box.

My heart quickened.

He popped it open and pulled out a ring. A platinum band with a princess cut diamond in the center. He reached across the table slightly and placed it in front of me so I could see it outside the box, see the way it glittered under the chandelier.

I glanced at it for half a second before I looked at him again.

His eyes had darkened back to their earlier intensity. “Marry me.”

I didn’t touch the ring. I had no intention of letting it come near me. “How would this marriage function?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would we be monogamous?—”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m receptive to an open marriage, especially since you have a wandering eye?—”

“No.” He clenched his jaw as he answered me. “It’s just you and me.”

“I would rather have realistic expectations?—”

“I only want you, Scarlett.” His stare deepened.

The stare became too much, so I looked down at the ring then returned it to him.

He didn’t take it.

I set it down in front of him before I leaned back in my chair. “Do you want children?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“As many as you’re willing to give me.”

“How would the business work?”

“You can do what you do now, run the numbers, take care of bookkeeping and appointments. I’ll handle all the physical stuff.”

“And my father?”

“He and I will have to discuss that.”

The plan had been laid out, but it was hard to swallow. The attraction was still there, but it was masked by a twisted pain in my stomach. I’d never forget the way my heart had dropped when I’d seen him walk past with Cassandra, when he pulled out the chair for her the way he did with me. I went home and cried so hard I gave myself a migraine—probably the very moment he was screwing her.

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