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A man with hair the same color as mine, and eyes just as blue, walks toward my car and I smile.
“Dad,” I say as he opens the car door.
“You kicked ass and took no prisoners.” He slides into the soft leather of the passenger seat.
I laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
He faces me. “I’m proud of you, son.”
It took an eternity to get to here. All the bullshit DeLaurio put my family through, and it’s finally over. I smile, letting the relief flood through me. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Where we going?” His eyes stare out of the front windshield, and I throw the car in gear.
“How do you feel about Ireland?” I ask, speeding away. Because I got everything I came for. And now it’s time to go back to the one person I love more than anything….my turtle dove.
Married To My Enemy
Book One and Two
FromUSA TodayBestselling Author, Logan Chance, comes a powerfully spell-binding enemies to lovers duet ready to capture your heart.
Here comes the bride, all dressed in lies.
Love and cherish are not in Gabriel Prince’s vocabulary. He’s used to getting what he wants, and what he wants is me—as his bride.
I won’t give in to Gabriel’s undeniable sex appeal.
I won’t fall for his charm. He won’t lift my veil of secrets.
I promise to make his billionaire life miserable until he has no choice but to get rid of me.
Happy wife, happy life? I’ll let him think that.
Prologue
Married To My Enemy Book One
All my millions and I couldn’t figure out how to send an email after I died. I know you prefer technology, but looks like I get the last say. As always. You’ll find I’ve been busy putting a lock on your empire. The only way to unlock it is with the old ball and chain. Clementine Bright is who I’ve picked for you.
Chapter 1
Clementine
Funerals are a lot like weddings. Tears. Flowers. Speeches. Hordes of friends and family gathered in their best clothes to mark the end of a life. It’s an odd comparison to make, the joy of a wedding to the somber pain of death, but it’s eerily true—because marrying Gabriel Prince will be the same as digging a grave and burying myself.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” Gabriel says as black-garbed mourners, shoulders bowed with loss, navigate around the arrogant man towering over me.
This is not how I envisioned things when I used to have silly fantasies of my true love proposing. A marriage proposal probably isn’t supposed to feel like you’re standing before an Armani suited marksman with the fine red crosshairs of a bullseye on your forehead. I’d say that’s the last emotion it should evoke. Then again, most proposals don’t take place at a funeral.
Fathomless dark eyes wait for the acquiescence they believe is coming, because why wouldn’t I accept? Clementine Bright is a minuscule pebble in the behemoth mountain that is Gabriel Prince. It’s almost laughable: after all this time, he still expects to get his way.
And why wouldn’t he? He’s always possessed that charismatic ‘x factor’ in his DNA that makes people rush to do his bidding. It’s a combination of lethal good looks and devastating charm that has ensured, since we were kids, everyone has always said yes to him. Didn’t matter what it was—ice cream in the morning, shorts in the winter, a car before he was legally able to drive—if he wanted it, he got it. And acquiring me as his wife is no doubt just another yes to him.
“Why would I ever marry you?” I question. There are no sweaty palms, no butterflies, no quiver in my voice. I’m willing them away. Gabriel thrives on weakness, so I’ve heard, and I won’t give him any, even if my forced bravado is holding by a tenuous thread.
“We both know why.” His eyes flit with disdain to his grandfather’s casket, laden with bushels of flowers.
“This is really not the time or place,” I remind him in a hushed tone.
