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I push aside all my worries for the moment and let myself become immersed by Gabriel’s skillful touch and enchanting words. Days ago, hanging from a chain in a shed, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, let alone be talking about a future. “I’ve never been anywhere.”
“We have more than enough money to start a whole new life, anywhere we want.”
“That’s your money, not mine.” And it’s dirty money. Would I ever have the stomach to reconcile that fact?
He peels his mouth away from my neck to meet my eyes. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Everything I have is yours.” The muscle in his jaw ticks. “Including my heart. That’s yours. It’ll never be anyone else’s.”
Who is this man? He’s Gabriel with his wandering, assertive hands and bullish style, but he’s gentler, softer, vulnerable.
My hand automatically shifts to his chest, the steady beat thumping against my palm. So strong and vibrant. “And what if I don’t want to go anywhere? What if I want to stay in Phoenix and keep working at Mary’s Way?” He’s never seen the value in me spending my days surrounded by people who fall prey to the very thing his family peddles. The more I think about it now though, especially seeing this side of him, I wonder if his disdain is borne from guilt more than anything to do with those people’s weakness.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “This feels like a test.”
“Maybe it is.”
He studies me carefully. “And let me guess, we’d be making a lot of donations to keep Mary’s Way open?”
“Yearly. Huge ones.”
He curses under his breath, but by the gleam in his eye, I know he’s just playing the part. “Like I said, I’ll follow you anywhere, Mercy. Even to Mary’s Way.” He caps that off with a deep kiss against my lips. “Say yes and DeHavilland will get us the paperwork and an appointment with a judge first thing in the morning.”
A flutter of nerves explodes in my stomach. “In the morning? As in tomorrow morning? You want to get married tomorrow morning.”
“Lewis is going to show up again soon and when she sees all your bruises, she’s going to pull out every trick in that oversized purse of hers. I don’t want her being able to put you through that again.”
My gut clenches at the thought of being cornered in a room by that woman again.
“And there’s a lot of shit that’s about to go down in the next few days. I want to make sure you’re protected in every way.”
A bubble of laughter erupts in my throat. “You’re insane.”
He smirks. “You knew this.”
“I did.” Given our history, this latest proposal of his is not all that shocking. If anything, it’s endearing.
“Please say yes,” He begs.
Exhilaration builds in my chest. The word is on the tip of my tongue, the impulse overwhelming. “Just let me think about it, please? For more than five minutes.”
“Fine. But while you’re thinking….” He backs me against the shower wall and lifts me by the back of my legs, lining our bodies up.
This is what Gabriel does: fucks me into submission, getting his way every time. As much as I want him inside me, I reach down and grasp his hard length with my fist, stalling him. “If I say yes to this, nothing changes between us.”
He swallows hard. “I feel like a lot would change between us.”
I squeeze. “I mean, you don’t control me; you don’t own me.”
He groans. “Are you kidding? You own me. You have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
My pulse quickens, but I don’t let myself get derailed. “And you are out of your father’s world for good. You have to be.”
“After we get through these next few days and I do what I need to do.” He levels me with a look that says I won’t like any of it.
“Right. After that.”
“Please say yes, Mercy,” he whispers, capturing my lips in mine, adjusting his hold of my thighs to widen my hips.
I guide him into me without giving him an answer.
I know what it’ll be.
The hum of the Lamborghini’s engine competes with the whir of my nerves in my stomach as we drive along Camelback Road. It’s 7:00 a.m., but the sky is a pretty cornflower blue and the heat is already building.
Gabriel’s eyes leave the road ahead to meet mine. Our hands are clasped together in a tight weave, resting on the stick. He drags his thumb across my wrist, where the bruises from Bane are suitably hidden beneath layers of carefully applied foundation. It took me nearly an hour to cover all the marks that madman left. “You look beautiful.”
I smooth a hand over the pale blush-colored material of my dress. It was Michelle’s Kentucky Derby dress as she likes to call it; a fitted asymmetrical outfit that reaches to my knees and ties at the waist—and the only thing in my closet that seemed appropriate for a trip to Scottsdale’s city hall to marry a crime boss’s son so I can avoid being summoned in any potential cases the feds are building against him.
