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A part of me wants to stomp my foot beneath the scrutiny. Make him wait. Pout, even. But something tells me that whatever tantrum I could throw, he would be willing to create an even bigger scene. I’ve never seen him like this. Only one word comes to mind to describe the tension gripping his body from head to toe.Desperation?
So, damn it, I give in, under complete duress. “Yes.”
“Then please sign on the dotted line.”
Confidently, Bellamy signs first, and I follow. Just like that… we’re married. I suppose. The judge stands and prompts Bellamy and me to shake hands. And that’s that. I’ve experienced more hassle while opening a bank account, but in little under ten minutes, I’ve married a man I used to work for with little pomp and circumstance.
Oh, apart from the ring.
As I’m herded out of the office, I flip open the box and glance at it again. At first, the shape seems relatively simple—a circle formed of rose-colored gold. On second appraisal, however…Damn.I can tell that it’s finely crafted—definitelyexpensive. Even for a man richer than god, the gesture seems extravagant for what, in theory, should be a simple token. I glance at him from the corner of my eye as he tucks the legal documents into his breast pocket. The smirk he shoots me in return offers no answers, the bastard.
Either way, I close the box without putting it on and follow him to the car. He’s already holding the door open for me as I approach. A strange enough occurrence that I wind up just standing there, watching him. I may or may not be open-mouthed as well.
“Evelyn,” Bellamy starts, his tone an ominous warning. “See something you like, Luv?”
Luv.That choice of word sets my entire body on edge. Bellamynevercasually dished out cliché British colloquiums. Well,almostnever. Such a phrase typically marked the stage of his temper just beyond “murderously polite.” It was a level of rage that I’d only seen him reach once before, when his blood sugar levels nearly bottomed out after a day of skipped meals, and a business rival had the gall to insult him, in public, along with all of Atelier Noir for good measure.“Thanks for enlightening me, chap,”Bellamy had hissed, right before he threw his fist into the bastard’s face. It was a hush-hush scandal that took bribing nearly every major news outlet in the city to keep under wraps. In the end, Bellamy wound up paying for the man’s medical bills—one broken nose and several stitches—but I don’t think it fazed him one damn bit.
For him to switch from Evelyn to “Luv” in ten minutes… somewhere during our hasty marriage ceremony, I had done something to piss him off. Royally. I rack my brain to figure out what.
Those eyes reveal nothing, however. The only other clue to his souring mood is how tightly he clenches his jaw, causing his cheekbones to stand out in even starker contrast. “You should get in the car, darling,” he all but growls. “Please.”
Oh, hell no.I back up a step. “I don’t remember you mentioning that my marrying you involved you ordering me around—”
“Liar,” he says with a harsh shrug of his shoulder. “Your marriage duties do not negate your current retained services. They will overlap.”
Overlap? I struggle to hide my confusion with an indignant laugh. Ha!“Once again, I don’t remember anything in my ‘retained’ duties about—”
“As I told you before, read the fine print, Evelyn.” He snaps his fingers and jerks his chin toward the awaiting back seat. “Get in. Please.”
Oh, dear god. That please sends my heart into overdrive as I grapple with the reality of the precipice I find myself balancing on. Refusing him could send him into an even more volatile variation of his temper. But entering that car with him seems… lethal—to what remains of my pride, at least.
In the end, I decide that the prospect of him causing a scene in the middle of a crowded street—possibly by throwing his cell phone through the glass front of yet another establishment—is just a fraction worse than anything I might face inside the car with James present.
“Fine.” I march past him and throw myself into the farthest corner of the Mercedes. He climbs in after me, keeping a wide swath of space between us.
“Drive,” he tells James through gritted teeth, coincidentally without mentioning just where he might be driving to. I refuse to let myself panic over the potential prospects, though. The picture of calm, I settle my hands over my lap instead and try to regain control of my breathing. In. Out. My fingers start to shake, only to remind me of the tiny box still clutched in them.
“Put it on,” Bellamy commands, following the line of my gaze. I can’t shake the feeling that he was waiting all along for the chance to say those three words.
“Why?” My fingers glide along the plush velvet surface of the box. Some lines should never be crossed, even in the boundaries of an impulsive dare that leads to marriage.
“Because,” Bellamy replies. “The world needs to know who you belong to.” Such a heartfelt plea with decidedly possessive undertones.
I’m so touched by it, that deciding on my answer takes only a second of deliberation. “No.”Hell no, I clarify mentally.
“Put it on.” His enunciation sounds crisper this time, as if he merely suspects that I didn’t hear him correctly the first time.
To dispel any doubt, I turn to face him, wrestling the stupid box into my fist. “No. As in—no, I will not.”
“Yes.” He blinks once, his expression unwavering. It’s like he doesn’t even know the damn meaning of a refusal. “Yes, as in, you don’t have a damn choice—”
“You said I had tomarryyou,” I interject. “You didn’t say anything about having to wear… tokens of it.”
“Wearing my ring is an essential part of your marital duties.”
“Then where is your ring?” I nod pointedly to his naked finger, and a muscle in his jaw twitches. Almost a smirk in the right lighting.
“Were the reasons stated in my proposal not a sufficient enough explanation?”
