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“Sorry,” she said. “I just had to think.”
“And?”
“And I think I’m going to turn down your proposal.”
I stared at her for a second, frowning. That was a surprise.
“Are you sure?” I said. “Being married to me will be the most fun you’ll ever have.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is just too crazy. I can’t do it.”
I nodded. “Okay, Selena. But if you change your mind, come to my room. I’m staying in the Ritz downtown, room 234. I leave the day after tomorrow, early.”
She sighed, frowning. “I’m sorry. I’m just not your girl. I can’t help you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said, standing. “You are exactly what I want, Selena. You just don’t realize it yet.”
She frowned. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I grunted. “Room 234, Ritz downtown. One million dollars. Come see me if you change your mind.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“And Selena?”
“Yeah?”
“You do look fucking sexy in that dress. Wear it more often.”
She blushed, but before she could respond, I walked away.
Damn. I had to admit, I was disappointed that she’d said no. I really had thought she was going to do it, and I still believed she was the perfect person for it. I could find someone else easily enough, but I didn’t want some random actress that would probably keep squeezing me for more and more money.
I wanted Selena. I wanted that normal, sexy-as-fuck girl in a dress she barely wore. I wanted her bent over my bed, screaming my fucking name as I fucked her tight pussy from behind. I wanted to take her to Vegas and make her my wife.
I left the restaurant and flagged a cab. I was tired and decided to call it a night.
Maybe she’d come around. If not, I’d find someone in New York, the next stop on our trip.
I climbed into the cab, still thinking about Selena in that dress, bent over my bed and begging me for more.
5
Selena
I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Nash had looked at me.
It was dirty, intense, and serious. He stared at me like he wanted to slowly unpeel my clothes and drag me back into the bathrooms. Even his words were dirty, and he barely knew me at all. I could see why he had his reputation.
All night, I dreamed about what it would mean to be married to Nash Bell. I’d be the wife of a famous soldier, of one of the most decorated Navy SEALs in America. He had secrets, he was violent and powerful, and he was an asshole. And yet I found myself incredibly drawn toward him. His offer kept ringing in my ears.
Could I actually pretend to be someone I wasn’t?
It would involve so much deceit, so much lying. It would mean I’d have to lie to every single person I knew, including my family. And what happened at the end of it, after the book tour?
But a million dollars was a lot of money.
The next morning, my head buzzing with thoughts of Nash’s dirty words, his muscular body pressed against mine, I climbed out of bed. I had to do something to try to forget about him, and so I made myself some coffee and took out my phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom,” I said. “How are you?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. Things are fine. How are you?”
“I’m good. Just had a weird night last night.”
“Hold that thought. I think I hear your father getting sick.”
I frowned as I heard her put the phone down. Dad had cancer and was going through another round of chemo, which meant he was getting sick pretty much all the time. My poor mother was dealing with it the best she could, and I tried to get home as often as possible, but it was hard.
Because of the cancer, Dad couldn’t work. He wasn’t old enough to retire yet, and so they were existing on my mother’s paycheck and Dad’s disability.
I sighed to myself as soon as the thought crossed my mind. One million dollars sure could go a long way toward helping my family out. It would mean my father could get the best treatment from the best doctors, and they wouldn’t have to worry about money all the time.
But if I married Nash, I’d have to lie to them. I’d have to pretend like I actually loved Nash, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I was terrified of that. I’d never lied to them about anything before, let alone about having a secret arrangement with a rich and dangerous man.
“Okay, back,” Mom said.
“How’s he doing?”
She sighed. “You know how the chemo is. He’s hanging in there.”
“What did the doctors say?”
“They have him on a hundred different pills, but there’s nothing they can do about the nausea. He tried eating breakfast today, but I guess he couldn’t keep it down.”
I frowned to myself. It was horrible to imagine the big, smiling man of my childhood as a weak, frail person who couldn’t even eat breakfast.
