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MyhandtremblesasI press the button for the elevator down to the casino floor. I’m having dinner with my fiancé. A man I’ve seen only a handful of times since we got engaged eleven years ago.
But I’ll do it because it’s my duty.
I step into the elevator and clutch the strap of my purse. We took one photo together three years ago at a family event where we announced our official engagement, and we exchange Christmas gifts during family holidays. The ones he bothers to show up for at least. Other than that, I haven’t seen him since the summer he left for college. Tonight is our first real date.
To keep up with the lie that I’m in town for a bachelorette party, I’m staying in a suite at The Elysium—one of three casinos owned by the Novak Group. Owen is head of security for all three, and he arranged it at the last minute. Things haven’t been the same between us since my father’s phone call two nights ago, but we haven’t said our final goodbyes. The thought of that is too painful.
In the lobby, I make a beeline for the central bar where I’ve told Tobias to meet me.
What the hell are we supposed to say to each other?
My breath catches when I spot him at the end of the bar. He’s let his hair grow out well past his shoulders, and it’s pulled up into a half ponytail. His facial hair is neatly groomed, and his expression is severe until his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. It’s a breathtaking smile that would melt the heart—or panties—of any woman in its path.
“Bellamy, love, it’s good to see you again.”
I cringe at his use of Owen’s go to term of endearment for me. Rationally, I understand it’s a common thing. Half the people I spent time with during my summers in London called me love.
Still, it’s a reminder of what I’m walking away from to fulfill my family obligations. My heart shatters as he pulls me into a hug and kisses my forehead.
“Tobias,” I say, nodding my head in greeting. The single word is all I can manage without my voice cracking.
He pats the stool next to the one he’d been sitting in when I approached. “Sit. I’ll buy you a drink. Our dinner reservation isn’t for another forty-five minutes.”
The bartender approaches and I order a lemon drop, while Tobias orders a scotch.
“How have you been?” I ask when we’re alone again, still unsure of my voice. It’s such an odd question to ask the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. We’ve technically been engaged for eleven years. I should know how he’s been.
“I’ve been well. Business is thriving.”
He wanted a few years to start a legitimate business outside of the family business. Something he could call his own. Ultimately, he set it up and hired an executive management team to keep things running while he went back to London to work beside his father and older brother. I expected to marry him three years ago when we announced our engagement, but he said he wasn’t ready yet. I suspect he was seeing someone else and wanted to get out of our marriage contract and couldn’t. There is no proof of that, though.
“You look good,” he says as the bartender sets our drinks in front of us.
I blush and tuck a wayward curl behind my ear. “Thanks. So, Daddy says you want to talk about the wedding.”
Tobias squeezes my shoulder. “Correct. We need to make the final arrangements. I’d hoped you could come back to London with me in two days, but if you have pressing things on your schedule, you can come later. The wedding just has to happen in the next three months.”
My stomach churns and I shove my drink away. Alcohol is not a good idea right now. My father said ninety days, but I’d hoped it wasn’t a hard deadline. “How am I supposed to plan a wedding in three months?”
Tobias puts a hand over mine. I’m surprised and grateful that I don’t recoil at his touch. It’s helpful to not hate being touched by your husband.
“You never wanted a big, fancy wedding when we were teenagers. I assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
I laugh. “It’s still a big deal, and even small weddings take time to plan. Especially when you bring the politics of our families into it. We have to negotiate who gets invited and who doesn’t. And there are pre-wedding dinners to plan to soothe hurt feelings for those who don’t get invited. Don’t you pay attention to other weddings in your family?”
He laughs. “I guess not to that level of detail. But there’s nothing to be done about the timeline. My brother is…” He ducks his head. “My brother is dying, and I’m expected to take on his responsibilities.”
“Tobias, what happened?”
He lifts his head to the ceiling, and I can see emotion thick on his face. “Cancer. Terminal. Doctors gave him less than a year. Father insists we marry now.”
The gravity of my situation hits me, and empathy for Tobias squeezes my heart. I place a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. You two were always so close.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
I blink. “Of course I’ll do it. That was never a question.”
“You tried to talk your father out of the contract no less than half a dozen times over the last few years. There were definitely questions,” he argues.
