Someone else, a stranger watching us meet, might mistake that action of his. After all, women the world over have been swooning for nearly two decades over Mr. Darcy flexing his hand after touching Lizzie. There are memes and vines and everything about it.
Mr. Darcy was so addicted to Lizzie that he had to shake off the touch of her hand.
Arguably the single most romantic gesture in cinematic history, even by my decidedly unromantic standards.
But that’s not what’s happening here. Nope. Not at all.
Even if I didn’t know that Jonah has nerve damage from his injury, I wouldn’t have mistaken his hand flex for anything other than what it is. Because I saw that look in his eyes.
I grit my teeth behind my grin.
Fine. I get it.
This guy finds me repulsive. So repugnant he has to shake off the effects of my touch.
Great. Just great.
This, folks, is my groom.
In the month we’ve been communicating via email and text, he’s seemed friendly enough. And Sissy has known him forever. If she says he’s a good guy, then I believe her. He’s trustworthy. Apparently, he just doesn’t like me. On the bright side, better to know that now, I guess.
Better to set my expectations as low as possible, just in case my ovaries get any ideas about those delicious shoulders of his.
Not that I have expectations to lower. This is a business arrangement, nothing more, nothing less.
Just two relative strangers entering a legal agreement…for the purpose of defrauding an elderly man on his deathbed.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration. We are not defrauding Uncle Red. Not exactly. And he’s not on his deathbed.
He’s just old enough that he doesn’t need to be living on an island, three hours from the nearest medical facility, while working the eighty hours a week running a boutique ocean-side resort requires. Unfortunately, he’s also too stubborn to admit that if he could do it all alone for decades, then so can I. In short, he won’t retire until he can sign the resort over to me and he won’t sign over the resort until I’m married.
Iwant you to be happy, Clara. I want you to live your life and find love. Don’t want you to tie yourself to this isolated island the way I did.
Yes, yes. His heart is in the right place. But I know what I want. I know what I’ve always wanted, from the time I was a child.
I want to own and run the Blue Crown Resort on Creciente Caye.
Since my uncle seems to think I need a husband to do that, I’ve found a husband.
Apparently one of the few men in North America who find blond hair and big tits repulsive, but that’s fine.
I smile again, this time hoping it seems less annoyed. “Are we ready?”
He gives another one of the annoyed huffs and nods.
Like I said, even by my standards, my wedding day is a disappointment.
chaptertwo
Jonah
The day of their wedding
I’ve never been lucky.
That much is obvious from my name alone.
Historically, it’s bad luck to have someone named Jonah on a boat.
