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"So what’s this conversation about?"
I take the wine glass from her and place it on the table, then take both of her hands in mine. "I want something more with you. Want tobesomething more than what I’ve been so far without you. I want" —I bring her hands up to my mouth and kiss her fingertips— "to be the kind of man you’d be proud to stand next to."
"And you are, Liam. Any woman would love to be the one you vow to spend the rest of your life with—"
"Just not you. Why, Isla? What we shared earlier when we made love—"
"When we fucked, you mean?"
"When wemade love; it was different. Every time we’ve made love, our connection has deepened. I feel close to you. Like you’re the only other person who knows me as well as I know myself. What I’m feeling for you… It’s new and scary, but it’s also so very exciting. The chance to have you by my side, to have a family with you… It’s like I’ve found my purpose in life. Turns out, all that power and money I’ve been accumulating is not half as satisfying as the opportunity to have my own family."
"And what about me?"
I pull back a little. "What do you mean? You agreed to marry me—"
"So you could get your inheritance."
"And you could get publicity for your wedding planning company," I point out.
"I’m not sure it was a good idea to agree to this arrangement," she says quietly.
"Because you’re beginning to feel something for me?"
"And I don’t like it—not one bit. The sex between us may be great, but that doesn’t mean anything."
"It’s a start."
"It’s not enough." She tries to pull her hands out from between mine, but I don’t let go.
"I’m not going to let you turn your back on what we have. I’m not going to allow you to deny that you’re developing feelings for me."
"Whatever it is I feel for you, it’s not enough for a future together, Liam."
"And here I thought you were fearless. That when you wanted something you went after it."
"I don’t want you, Liam."
I bend my knees and peer into her eyes. "I don’t believe you."
She holds my gaze. "Better believe it."
* * *
After that she sipped her wine as I finished cooking. We ate at the table on the deck. A squirrel hopped over to the edge of the deck, and sat watching us until I wasn’t been able to stop myself from throwing it a piece of bell pepper from the salad. It ran away, only to return and pick up the morsel when I had my gaze turned away.Maybe I should nickname her squirrel instead.
She was watching the squirrel. And I was watching her. I recorded every nuance of her expression—the way she gazed at the squirrel, first, with wide eyes, then laughing at its antics, and finally, exclaiming in surprise, when the creature darted back and grabbed the slice of vegetable.
It’s as if something inside of me knows the clock on our relationship is running down. Soon, we’ll have to return to the real world. Soon, she’ll ask me again to release her from our agreement, and this time… No, I won’t think about that. Still, I’m taunted by that old saying: if you love something, set it free. I always scoffed at it, but now I’m beginning to understand… I won’t be able to stop her from leaving me, and for someone known for being so powerful, that’s an oxymoronic statement…for a moronic man.
I’ve never not owned what I want. Never not taken what I need. Never not focused on my own desires, to the exclusion of everything else. This… Thinking of another person before myself, respecting another person’s wishes, being tuned into another person to the extent her frame of mind becomes my own, is new. More to the point, it’s shockingly out-of-character for me. It’s strangely different and yet, not. It’s like she’s unlocked something intrinsic, yet hidden, inside of me with only her presence.
That’s how much this woman affects me. I can only watch my own reactions in bemusement. If anyone had told me, even a week ago, that pretending to be married would change the blueprint of my life, I’d have laughed at them. Come to think of it, I did. On the eve of my wedding. After all, the entire goal of this project was to ensure I didn’t get caught up in a relationship.
I set out to protect my feelings and gain access to my inheritance. I ended up losing my heart and unsure if owning my company outright and getting my trust fund will give me the kind of satisfaction I derive from taking care of her, making her smile, holding her in my arms, burying my face in the curve of her neck and breathing in her scent. Feeling her shiver under me, her pussy quiver around my cock, her breasts tremble, her shoulders convulse as she falls apart on my command.
Directing her to orgasm is far more thrilling than managing another takeover or acquisition. Persuading her to open up for my tongue, my fingers, my dick is far more satisfying than closing a merger. Coaxing her to trust me is the biggest challenge I’ve undertaken in my life. One which I can’t afford to lose, at any cost.
I have more riding on this than on the outcome of any business negotiation. And I’ve never been more nervous. It’s why I grip my wine glass with such force that the stem snaps and the bowl shatters. The red liquid spills over the wooden surface of the table and drips down the sides.
