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I sniffed and shook my head. “I don’t need that. I don’t need another ceremony.”
“You don’t?”
“I kind of liked the one we had.” Plus, our Vegas ceremony held its own kind of importance. It was the first time that he’d kissed me. The kiss had been far from fake, and it blurred the line between fact and fiction.
I looked at the letter in my hand. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want us to have kids if you don’t actually want them, Dane.” I placed the letter on a nearby shelf. “No child should ever feel unwanted.”
He smoothed his hands up my arms. “I woke up early a few weeks ago. You were flat on your back, asleep, and your camisole had ridden up. I looked at your bare stomach, and I found myself picturing it all round with my baby. I don’t know where the image came from—it just popped into my head. I can’t really describe what I felt. I just know that baby wouldn’t have been unwanted if it were real. I don’t know if I’d make a good parent, though. I don’t even know what does make a good parent. I’ll Google it.”
A chuckle bubbled up and burst out of me.
“I told you I could make you laugh if I wanted to,” he reminded me.
I nodded. “You did.”
“So, do I sign the papers or tear them up? Either way, you are mine, and you’ll stay mine,” he warned, his voice thick with ownership.
A pleasant chill skated down my spine. His possessiveness never failed to flick my switch.
A loving declaration would have been nice, but I wouldn’t have believed it. I did think he was capable of feeling the emotion, but his willingness to connect with others had been oppressed by his father. That bastard had forced the people most important to Dane—his own siblings—to cause him physical harm. If you didn’t properly bond with someone, it wouldn’t hurt emotionally when they caned you, would it?
His bond with his twin had survived that shit, but then Dane had lost Oliver; lost the one person who mattered; the one person who anchored him. And what had that taught an emotionally stunted eight-year-old Dane? That caring for others only led to pain. So he’d shut down, becoming so self-reliant and self-focused that it pushed others away.
And yet, he’d opened up his world to me little by little. He’d let himself trust me—so much so that he slept beside me at night. He’d let himself care for me, even when taking that risk must have been so hard. And he’d grown to feel secure enough in what we had that he’d gone a daunting step further and made the decision to build a life with me.
The whole thing absolutely fucking humbled me. I didn’t need the three little words people tossed around too lightly, too often. Not when the man in front of me had pushed past every self-protective measure he had to get to this point. Not when he stood here offering me all the things I wanted. That was far more profound than a declaration of undying love.
I inhaled deeply and replied, “Tear them up.”
“Be certain, Vienna. I won’t make this offer again—I’m too selfish for that. If you fully commit to me right now, I’ll hold you to that. I won’t let you go back on it.”
“I’m certain.” I tore up the single sheet I held and set the pieces on the shelf, right beside his hospital letter. “You can tear up the rest.”
His steely eyes glittered with triumph.
“But you need to get rid of the idea that I’m trapped in this marriage,” I quickly added. “Although I don’t want to leave you and I wouldn’t give up on us if we were experiencing a bad patch, I’m not someone who’d stay in an unhappy marriage, so you’d better pull your weight. And I will walk if you ever cheat—I’d lose all respect I had for you, and I wouldn’t respect myself if I stayed.”
He cocked his head. “Do you think I’d ever cheat?”
If for no other reason than it would make him feel like his adulterous father … “No. I don’t believe you’d cheapen me or yourself that way. Which is good for you, because I wouldn’t hesitate to scald your cock with boiling water if you ever strayed.”
Dane winced. “Vengeful. I like it.” He ate up the last bit of space between us. “You never have to worry that I’ll cheat on you, Vienna.” He dipped his head and kissed one side of my neck. “It would simply never happen.” He pressed a kiss to the other side of my neck. “You’re all I want. You’re all I’ll ever want.” He brushed his lips over mine. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
He hummed. “Good.”
I went to kiss him, but he delved one hand into my hair and wrapped the other around my throat, holding me still. I gasped and gripped the sides of his shirt. My pulse began to quicken as—that easily—a delicious, electric energy started to build and crackle in the air between us.
