Page 12 of The Temporary Bride

I nod, a small, relieved smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Good. Glad to hear it.”

“Should we call everyone back in here, then?” she asks.

She turns toward the door, but before she can move, I reach out on impulse, my hand resting at the back of her neck. She goes still. I can feel her pulse under my fingertips where they rest at the side of her throat, and her shoulders drop just a fraction, a small involuntary thing she probably doesn’t realize she’s done.

“You need to promise me the same thing,” I murmur, my voice dropping in a way I didn’t mean for it to.

“Excuse me?” She looks back at me, something indecipherable passing through her expression, both defiant and vulnerable.

“If we’re going to do this, you need to promise that you won’t touch another man for the duration of our marriage. I’m not the kind of man who shares. Ever.”

There’s a pregnant pause between us as her eyes search mine as if trying to gauge the depth of my sincerity. Then, after what feels like an eternity, she nods almost imperceptibly, making my fingers shift against the warmth of her skin.

“No other men,” she says evenly. “For as long as we’re married.” Something almost like a challenge glints in her eyes, making me feel like we’re back on familiar ground for the first time since our last encounter. “I don’t do things halfway either.”

I’m tempted to say something in response to that, but instead I just nod and let my hand fall away, breaking the connection between us.

She rolls her shoulders back, runs her hands over her hair, and opens the door. When she returns to the table, she adopts a mask of composure, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes cold.

Her parents, my mother, and my brothers file back into the room, followed by the lawyers. I can feel their stares as they watch me, but I direct my next words mostly to my mother.

“Looks like we have a wedding to plan.”

The reaction that ripples through my brothers is varied, but none of them take it easily in stride. They’re all stunned, and a couple of them—mostly Reid and Dominic—seem angry. Affronted.

I can understand why. I feel blindsided. Betrayed, almost. I can only imagine that they feel the same.

After all, it’s not just my future on the line here—it’s the whole family’s. Which is exactly why I don’t have a choice but to bend to my father’s final wishes.

Three years.

I can handle three years if the prize lasts a lifetime.

Chapter 6

Chloe

A few days later, I find myself shut in my office, unable to focus on MediaSphere’s projections no matter how hard I try.

My mind keeps wandering over and over back to Tristan Thorne. My soon-to-be husband. That doesn’t get any less weird to think about, and I keep gravitating to the thought like it’s a car crash.

Over the past few days, I’ve replayed the entire will reading in my head at least a dozen times, along with my moment alone with Tristan.

I’ve known him since I got my MBA, but I’ve never spent a ton of time with him one-on-one. For the most part, our only conversations have been our clashes—the times when we’ve exchanged barbs over the years, or our business-related confrontations.

There was something about being in that room with him, alone, his fingers on my chin, that made my heart race. I’m not entirely sure I liked it.

Worse, I’m not entirely sure I didn’t.

I sit back in my chair, frustrated. I’ve been staring at this balance sheet for the past half hour with zero progress. I can’t seem to keep my thoughts at bay long enough to get through my work.

This is almost never a problem for me. For my entire life, I’ve been driven. Focused. More than anyone else I knew. I’m not an easy person to distract.

But Tristan Thorne…

Unable to help myself, I open a new browser tab. I type his name into the search bar and press Enter.

It takes a few seconds of scrolling through news articles before I find his social media pages. His Instagram is the first one I click on. In his profile picture, he’s at a show of some kind, his face cast in pale blue light. He smiles at something out-of-frame, like this is a candid shot and he was caught unaware.