Page 4 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

“No, you’re not. Nothing about you is a mistake. But I’ll never be worthy enough to call you my wife. Now, please, can we end this madness? Where did we get married? I’ll go talk to them.”

Lani just stared, making me squirm. She’d always had that effect on me, like she had the power to hijack my ability to think properly.

“Goran, if you try to undo our marriage, I will personally tell my father you fucked me in the stables.”

Kaylani took a step toward me, and I swallowed hard.

“On the floor behind the bar in the den,” she said, moving closer.

I stood taller, but it felt like she was lifting a gun to my head.

“On the counter in the kitchen. In the shower. In my bed…and yours. In my office at Mikhailov Industries, and in my horse trailer like a common whore, and every other place I can think of.”

“You wouldn’t,” I whispered.

“Oh, I would, and in extreme detail.”

We stood face-to-face, her chin held high.

“Father doesn’t get to choose who I marry.” She poked me in the chest. “And neither do you. I won’t let men dictate the rest of my life. That includes who I fuck, who I marry, where I live, what I do for work…all of it. So, instead of trying to weasel out of this marriage to save your neck, start thinking of ways to get Nathaniel, Titus, and even Ronan on our side. If you can do that, then Father will have no choice but to agree as well.”

“That is like asking me to climb Mount Everest with no limbs and no rope.” I sighed.

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for. Do you love me?”

Oh, she was good. Rock, meet hard place.

“Yes, with everything in me.”

“Then fight for us, Goran. Stop looking for the exit and help me figure out how we can ensure my father can never rip us apart.”

Lani spun around, her hips swaying as she marched for the door.

“And for the record, I know I’m worth fighting for,” she shot over her shoulder. “Now hurry up before the food gets cold. I hate soggy waffles,” she said, before disappearing out of the bedroom.

Of course, I had to fall in love with the one girl who would drug me in order to marry me. That sounded about right for my taste in women. Now, I was officially married to the most cunning of them all.

I glanced down at the ring on my finger and hated how right it felt. I was truly in love with a psycho, and the worst part? I wasn’t any better, because no matter what I said out loud, I was never letting her go.

Chapter

Two

KAYLANI

Vegas didn’t look like the version from the movies, at least not for me.

There were no glittering regrets. No neon hangovers.

Heat pressed through the windows, my hair and skin begging for moisture, and the faint smell of stale smoke clung to everything. A disgusting combination of history and old money, decay dressed up as excess.

You had to experience Vegas for yourself to understand. The bright lights and sun sucked up your sins and spat you back out again. Sometimes better. Sometimes worse.

The Strip was a living entity. It knew exactly what I’d done, and not only found it entertaining, but familiar. Ours wasn’t the first marriage consummated in desperation.

Well, maybe I had been a little more theatrical than most. I’d always liked being different.

I sat on the edge of the couch with my bare feet pressed into the carpet, my dress folded neatly over the arm of one of the chairs. It wasn’t flashy, just a simple white dress that said more about who I wanted to be and not who I really was. I stared at it for several moments, waiting for something to twist inside my chest.