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He stood, took two paces forward, and then turned to face her with his hands on his hips. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.” Why was Ivor so put out on her behalf? From the looks of it, he was nearly as frustrated as she was by the arrangement.
“Your parents believe they can find your soul mate for you? What about instinct? What about love at first sight? What about fate?” He shook his head as if incredulous at the idea.
“It’s been that way for many generations in our family. My parents were matched by their parents and theirs before them. It’s tradition.”
“I understand about family tradition, of course I do, but…” He sat heavily on the bench. The wooden slats creaked.“But this is about finding your mate, and only you can know who that is.”
“Mate?”
“Yeah, yeah, soul mate.” His brow creased. “Whatever you want to call it.” His attention ran down her body to her feet, and then back up again. “When you know, you know, both of you know. It can’t be forced or denied. It just … is.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “You can’t marry him, Nisha.”
She stood, clutching her sandwich wrapper. “Look, Ivor, I’m grateful for you seeing off those idiots last night, and it’s nice to run into you again. But I’m afraid you don’t get a say in my future.”
He stood and stepped close, towering over her. “Is that right?” His body heat radiated toward her, hot and intense.
“Yes. That’s right.” She gulped, his closeness affecting her pulse rate. “I’m marrying Rishi Arran.”
His eyes flashed with something other than green, something wild and determined, unstoppable. She’d never seen anything like it. “What’s he look like? This Rishi guy.”
“I … er … well, the opposite to you, I guess. Smart suit, neatly trimmed hair, brown eyes.”
“Well, Nisha.” He crooked his index finger and tucked it beneath her chin, lifting her face to his. “You getting married to him…” He paused. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Three
Ivor watched the love of his life, his destined mate, walk away from the bench in Bute Park. His emotions were being torn in two. Part of him was ecstatic that he’d finally found her—the one. Yet another part of him wanted to rage, wanted to shift into his dragon and burn everything around him to the ground.
She was getting married! To a man she didn’t know and didn’t love.
The very thought sickened Ivor. It couldn’t happen. He damn well wouldn’t let it.
After a few minutes, he stood, and once he’d fought the pull to follow Nisha to ensure she got to her workplace safely, he made his way to the market square.
It was time to meet this Rishi guy.
He bought two burgers and sat on a wall to eat them. Opposite was the office of Rosser and Jones Legal Services. Several people came and went through the heavy glass door, but no one he thought could be Rishi.
Twenty minutes passed. He was just starting to think about going in when a tall, smartly dressed man emerged from the office building. His pointed leather shoes shone so brightly they reflected the sunlight, and his pale-brown suit fit him perfectly. Beneath it, he wore a crisp white shirt and a moss-green tie. He didn’t have a hair out of place, and the short stubble on his jawline and chin looked as though it had been shaped with mathematical precision.
It has to be him.
The man who thinks he’s going to marry my woman.
A rush of possessiveness surged through Ivor. It was his instinct to protect his property, and that property, his mate, was Nisha.
She just didn’t know it yet.
And neither did Rishi.
But they would.
Ivor stood as Rishi took his phone out and held it to his ear.
Within a few seconds, Ivor was walking several paces behind him. It was clear Rishi was going somewhere with purpose and not just idling along.
Ivor listened to the conversation. His hearing was acute when he was in his dragon form, but still as a human, it was sharp.
