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"Of course." That bitterness is back in her voice, and for some reason, that bothers me.
"You have no interest in being my wife, Belle. But you want to save your father from bankruptcy. You also need money to keep a roof over your head."
She begins to protest, and I cut in, "You and I both know if I hadn’t offered you a job as my assistant, you’d have had to return home. This way, you don’t need to stay under the same roof as your family again."
She sets her jaw but doesn’t deny the facts.
"I am compelled to get married to ensure my grandfather confirms me as the CEO of his group of companies. This is a win-win, as far as I’m concerned."
"I can only see losses in my future."
"How’s that?"
"I’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage, with no intimacy. No intimacy,"—her features pale—"which means, no children."
"You want children?" I stare.
“Of course, I want children. The only reason I’d consider this marriage if I could have children.” She sets her jaw. “I know this might sound lame, but I’ve never known a time when I didn’t want to be a mother. In fact, it’s the reason I decided to pursue a career in childcare. It's one way to be in the company of kids throughout the day. It’s probably not the most ambitious of dreams, but—”
“Don’t put yourself down. Your dreams are important, and you deserve to give them life.”
“I... I do?” Her lips part.
I nod slowly. A soft sensation invades my chest. Belle, big with my child. Belle, playing with my son or daughter, taking them to school, making breakfast for them. Belle, holding him or her in her arms and—I shake my head. "You can still have children."
"How—oh!" The wrinkle in her forehead vanishes. "You mean, by IVF."
"If that’s what you decide."
"And if I decide I don’t want to be married anymore?"
I lean forward in my seat. "I’m afraid that’s not possible."
"Meaning?"
"Once you marry me, you can’t leave me. You’ll be mine for the rest of your life."
"So, I marry you and that’s it. I’m stuck with you?"
"Don’t overwhelm me with your enthusiasm," I drawl.
She flushes. "You know what I mean. One day, I don’t know you. The next, you’re my boss. And now, you’re saying you want to be my husband, but not in the true sense of the word."
"There are worse options out there."
"So you keep saying."
"I’ll make sure you have your independence. You can continue to work for me."
She frowns. "But wouldn’t that be conflict of interest?"
"It’s my company." I raise a shoulder. "Besides, we’ll be married only in name, so—"
"So—" She swallows. "No sex."
"None."
"And I can stay in my own flat?"
