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“Wonderful. Wonderful! Don’t get a jump on the wedding night yet though, kids. We’ve got a long way until then, ha-ha!” Clive flops back down in his chair, beaming.
Robin grimaces, cheeks turning red.
I lead her from the room. Poor girl doesn’t need to be mortified more than necessary by her obnoxious father. We’re in this together now—might as well try making nice.
We head down the hall toward the breakfast nook. I figure Carson will help smooth this over, maybe play intermediary for a while until Robin gets more comfortable.
But she stops me in the hallway.
“I want to get something straight,” she says, staring at me with that frosty glare. “This is a business transaction. One that I’m not too fond of.”
I raise my eyebrows and lean against the wall, crossing my arms. I have to admit, I’m surprised. She doesn’t look like the type to have a spine, but maybe I misjudged her. “Then we can agree on something. Common ground is the basis of all lasting relationships.”
She grimaces. “I don’t want to joke.”
“All right then, what do you want to do?” I think of Dara and her banter. That easy laugh. That big smile.
Fuck, I have to stop. Dara’s gone. I’ll never see her again.
Robin is my future, for better or worse.
“I want to make things clear. You and I will have separate lives. You can take mistresses, so long as you’re discreet and you don’t embarrass me. I will do the same. We will sleep together to produce children, but no more than four. We will not share a bedroom. Hopefully, things can be cordial between us, but don’t expect me to be some love-stricken, doting wife. I don’t give a damn that you’re a Crowley.”
She stands there, hands on her hips, glaring at me.
I smile, but inside my stomach’s churning, because this is exactly how I hoped thingswouldn’tgo.
But Robin’s right. Whatever we might have, it’s never going to mean anything more than a convenient way for our two families to cement a long-lasting alliance, like we’re fucking European nobility. The situation makes me sick, but it’s one more grievance to add to the pile.
“That works for me,” I say curtly.
She sniffs, tilting her chin up. “Nothing personal. But I have a life. I’m not willing to give it up for you.”
“Good.” I turn my back on her. “How about you show yourself around? That way we know what to expect.”
“Happy to. Nice meeting you.”
“You too. No hard feelings, I hope.”
“None. Glad we cleared things up.” She shakes her head, turning her back.
I walk away, leaving her there alone in the hallway.
That girl’s my future. An actual stranger. And she hates me already.
Not that I much care what she thinks.
I pause when I’m alone, still in the hallways. I think about Dara, my eyes squeezed close. I’m tempted to call the hotel to see if she’s still in the room, but by now she’ll be at work, maybe getting fired. I wonder if she’s okay, if her manager let that whole mess go, or if he’s really as vindictive as she said.
I want her. I miss her. And I’ll never taste her again.
Ice Queen back there is all I’ll ever have, whether I like it or not.
“How’d things go?” Carson asks, looking surprised when I walk through the room, heading for the door.
“My fiancée and I have an understanding. She doesn’t give a fuck about me, and I don’t give a fuck about her. Everything’s great.”
Carson gives me a hard look as I shove outside, heading to my car and back into the city.
