Page 20 of The Contract Marriage

“This is perfect, Liam.” A tear falls from her eye.

“But you’re crying.”

Her soft pink lips curve into a trembling smile. “Because I’m happy.” She sniffles a little, the sound inexplicably delicate. It makes me want to wrap my arms around her.

The panic recedes. My heart finds its rhythm again. I pick up an elongated silver spoon, scoop a long, curling sample off the top two layers of the parfait and bring it to her mouth. She accepts it, her tongue darting out to lick a bit of cream in the corner of her mouth. Her eyes narrow to slits as she takes the time to savor the flavor.

I await her verdict. A smile breaks out over her face, like the sun peeking over the horizon at dawn. Cheeriness sparkles in her eyes, and she seems to become divine—a goddess sent to Earth to walk with the mortals.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. Thank you. That’s…amazing.” She looks into my eyes, like she means I’m amazing, even though I know better.

The tips of my ears burn. I clear my throat. “Told you.”

She takes a slow sip of the tea, watching me over the rim of the snow-white china. “Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“How serious were you about volunteering to be my groom?”

The question makes my heart skip a beat. “Very,” I say promptly.

She inhales as though bracing herself for something difficult—almost insurmountable. As seconds tick, anxiety twists my gut into a tight knot.

Finally, she nods. “Okay,” she says in a voice so soft I can barely hear it over the music.

“What?”

“I accept”—she bites her lip briefly—“your offer to be my groom.”

I almost drop the teacup. The hot fluid spills over and splashes onto my slacks, but I barely register the heat.

Olivia hands me a napkin. “Are you okay?” And then, after a moment: “Did you expect me to say no?”

“I…wasn’t sure.” I wipe the tea off on autopilot, not caring about my pants. “You seem so hung up on Tyler.”

“I have my reasons.”

Like what, I want to ask, but I push my curiosity aside when her shoulders droop a little.

“This marriage is going to be unfair to you,” she whispers. “It won’t be about love.”

I drop the napkin and look at her, my gaze unwavering. “I know. It’s okay.” I’ll bring love enough for both of us.

She tries to smile, but it fades before it can reach her eyes. “You deserve better.”

“So do you.” I pick up the spoon and feed her more chocolate, hoping it puts some light back in her eyes.

“My lawyer is Prescott Huxley,” she says after taking the bite from me.

“Mine’s Jeremiah Huxley. Well, she handles everything for the family.” I shrug.

“Hmm. Their being siblings will be a conflict of interest when we go over prenups and contract terms.” She purses her mouth. “I have some unusual demands that you should get a lawyer to review.”

I shrug again. “Ask me for anything. It’s fine. I won’t say no.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t agree until you see the exact terms. Otherwise, I’ll feel like I’m taking advantage.”