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“But then you realized you were arranged to marry my father and decided that was better, yes? Money is quite the hot commodity these days.”
“I don’t care about your money. I care about my father.”
“Which requires money. Don’t try to spin it, dearmother. A gold digger always has a legitimate reason, but that doesn’t change who they are.”
“Do not call memother,” I said, disgusted, “and I am no gold digger.”
“You agreed to marry my father for financial stability, yes?”
I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it again.
“You’re no different than the other women who have tried the same,” he said. “You’re all horrifically boring at this point.”
“Then why are you here?”
He stared at me, as if the answer would appear in the air without him opening his mouth to say it. After a few breaths, I understood.
“You came for the Eros, didn’t you?” I said.
His head dipped to the side as he smiled. “So you can read me that easily, can you?”
“It’s not hard to determine what you want now that I know it isn’t me.”
I paused, stuttering, realizing that it had come out entirely different than I had wanted it to.
He chuckled darkly. “Is that your problem? You wished for me to come after you?”
“Of course not!”
“Maybe I was wrong about your intentions. It seems you have desires I wasn’t aware of.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leaned closer, his dark eyes even more bottomless in the light of the cell. “I could offer you a choice, I suppose. Do you want to become my stepmother, or do you want to becomemine?”
I shoved him off, coming to my feet. “You disgusting rat! I have no interest in you or your stupid mind games. I have met plenty of aristocratic gentlemen—dull to the absolute core—and wouldn’t even agree to marriage if it weren’t for my father. It was only by his recommendation that I agreed to this betrothal.”
“And why would you agree to help him?” He came to his feet to face me. “How can you have no bitter feelings? Your father sold you.”
“My father gave me an option. If I had refused him outright, he would have changed his mind.”
“Then why didn’t you refuse?” He scoffed, curling his upper lip. “You really are a gold digger.”
I turned to face him, taking a step in. “Aren’t you as well?”
He didn’t say anything, but his eyes burned.
“Whether it’s a woman searching for a husband,” I continued, “or a man searching for buried treasure, isn’t it the same?”
He stepped in close to me. “So if I were the rich man, would you come to me instead of my father?”
He was trying to bait me—get some kind of power over me—and I didn’t appreciate it. I shrugged with one shoulder, batting my eyelashes innocently.
“I can’t imagine you to be rich, Jacques. Therefore, I’ve never considered you.”
He grabbed my wrist and spun me back to him, his eyes filled to the brim with frustration and aggression.
“You have no idea who you’re speaking to,” he growled. “I possess things far more powerful than money. Mark my words. You’ll regret your carelessness, dear mother.”
