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His family was rich, but so were a lot of families. Blackwoods was an elite school, and most of the students had some sort of connection: financial, political, cultural, whatever. There were sons of senators and daughters of pop stars mingling with the children of tech billionaires, and there I was, boring little Robyn.
Calvin never should’ve noticed me. I blamed Jarrod—my cousin was a part of the Four Horsemen, the elite group of attractive and popular football stars that basically ran campus. All social events flowed through them like water, and they had the power to completely ruin someone if they chose to—which they did with shocking regularity.
But for some reason, Calvin wanted me. I couldn’t understand why, even after the dozens and dozens of letters that he’d sent over the last six months. I wished I understood, but despite the unwanted glimpse into the deepest, darkest, most fucked-up and sensual recesses of his mind, I still didn’t know him, not one bit.
The letters were filthy, but they didn’t reveal anything. Like he was too guarded and careful to let his real motives slip.
I didn’t trust him, and I sure as hell didn’t want to marry him.
“Have you been thinking about my offer?”
“We haven’t spoken in a week and that’s the first thing you say to me, like your stupid deal is the only problem I have to deal with?”
He glanced over with a slight frown. “I doubt you’ve got much more important things going on.”
“Oh, god, you’re such an asshole.” I picked up my pace, but he easily matched me. “You really think everyone hangs on your every word, don’t you?”
“I think I offered to make you my wife, and I meant it. I know you, Robyn. You’ve been obsessing.”
The way he said that last word, obsessing, made my skin crawl, half with horror and half with excitement.
Because yes, of course he was right. I was obsessed. I hated myself for it, but how could I not be?
Calvin Solar wanted to marry me and get me pregnant.
That would change my life.
I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
He grabbed my arm and stopped walking. His grip was tight and on the edge of painful. Several girls standing nearby stared as Calvin leaned closer. For a second, I thought they might be coming over to help—but no, they whispered to each other and looked like they were jealous, like they wished Calvin would manhandle them and invade their personal space.
This whole place was insane.
“Get off me, Calvin.” I stared into his perfect blue eyes, and he stared right back.
A little smile formed on his lips.
“Give me your answer. Will you marry me? I’ll give you whatever you want, Robyn. But I think we both know what you need.”
“I don’t need you, if that’s the implication.”
“Your father. Did you know men would kill for a few thousand dollars in the commissary? It’s all about having the right connections.”
His words sent a cheap thrill into my guts.
My father, shivved to death in prison.
I didn’t hate the idea. The bastard deserved it and worse.
But the price was too high.
The price was everything.
All of me.
“I don’t care what you can do.”
“Is that a no?”
“I don’t know what it is.” I should’ve turned him down, flat out. And yet I couldn’t speak the words.
He moved closer, hand tightening. “I’m going to Europe for a business trip. I want you to come with me.”
I would’ve laughed if his fingers weren’t biting into my flesh. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re hurting me.”
His grip didn’t lessen. “I’m leaving for Riga on Friday and returning on Monday. You’ll have to miss those classes, but I think you can afford it.”
“Riga? What business?” I shook my head, glaring.
“Riga is in Latvia. You’ve heard of it?”
“Don’t be a condescending prick.”
Another ghostly smile. “We’re leaving Friday afternoon. I’ll pick you up.”
“I’m not going.”
He sighed. “Don’t make this difficult.”
“Calvin. Listen to me.” I wrenched my arm away and took a step back, desperate to put some space between us. When he was that close, I found it hard to think. “I’m not going to Europe with you. I’m certainly not leaving this Friday. And I’m not marrying you.”
“Is that your final answer?” His eyes burned with something I couldn’t identify. Rage? Passion? Desire? All of the above, and more.
“I’m not going to Europe with you,” I said, my voice softer. “Just leave me alone, okay? Stop writing me letters.”
“So you’ve been reading them.”
“Of course I have. But that doesn’t mean—”
“Then you understand.” He came closer. I backed into a bench and almost sat down. “I’m going to have you, Robyn. It can be now, or it can be later, but I’m persistent and I know what I want. You don’t need to make this difficult.”
Anger flared then. He didn’t know a damn thing about me. Just because he was friends with my cousin didn’t mean he had a right to me. He couldn’t claim me, steal me, take me.
