When she texted me and said she wanted to see me, I hadto stop myself from pumping my fist in victory. She's coming around to my suggestion. I can feel it.
I wanted to ask her to meet me first thing in the morning, but that would've shown how eager I was.
Instead, I asked her to meet me at six p.m.
And I paid the price for it. On the surface, I was industrious…or tried to be. Given I’d delegated a lot of my everyday stuff to her, I was left with a lot of time to build up scenarios in my head. Scenarios in which she’d become my wife, and I’d spend all my nights buried in her pussy.
Enough for me to have to retreat to the en suite bathroom and rub one out. I managed to compose myself after.
But now that she’s here, I need to play it casual. I can't act like I can’t wait to put my ring on her finger and marry her… And…Christ.I'm only doing it to fulfill Arthur’s condition that I get married before I inherit. And, to make him happy by marrying the woman he chose for me.
She grips her digital pad so hard that the skin across her knuckles turns white. “Yes. I want to know how this…arrangementwould pan out.”
I knit my eyebrows. It’s interesting that she doesn’t want to use the word marriage. She’s not yet comfortable with the idea. But that’s where I come in.
I've exchanged fire with enemy troops across borders, and with business rivals across boardroom tables, but I am keenly aware that what I have riding on the discussion today with her is far more personal.
There’s much more at stake here. My future, for one.
It so happens that my EA is the smartest, most fascinating, most beautiful woman I've ever met.
Being married to her wouldn’t be a burden; it would be dangerously easy. We click in ways I don’t want to examine too closely.
Arthur choosing her only confirms what part of me already knows. We fit. And apparently, my grandfather had an inkling of that.
He’ll be satisfied, and even if there are no feelings involved—noreal entanglements—I’m certain Lark and I could build something solid. Something that lasts.
I could do worse than marry her, but I don't think I can do better. As long as she doesn't get too hung up on the whole issue of love, I think we'll make a great partnership.
I reach for the strip of rope on my desk and begin to unknot it. It’s more to buy myself time while I formulate my response, but her gaze is fixed on my fingers. She watches, fascinated, as I deftly unknot the strip of silken rope, then smoothen it out, before I tie the first knot.
I show it to her. “It’s a figure eight knot. Common in climbing and sailing.”
“It looks clean and simple.”
“And the symmetry is satisfying. It symbolizes control.”
I tie another knot, then another.
Her forehead creases. “Why do you do that?” she asks abruptly. “I assume, it helps you focus?”
She’s stalling. But that’s okay. I’m the one who opened this particular line of conversation. And it’s good for her to get to know me better, since we’re going to get married. Something I will make her agree to by the end of this discussion.
I tie another knot. “It’s a stress reliever. Helps me keep in touch with my past.”
“Past?” She raises her gaze to mine.
“I was in the Royal Marines. In fact, all my brothers except, except Connor, served in the forces.”
“How did I miss that?” She looks taken aback.
I shrug. "It’s not a secret. Arthur makes it a point to bring it up whenever he gets the chance. It’s something he’s proud of. As am I. But it wasn’t the easiest part of my life either.”
Her shoulders relax a little. The conversation is doing its job. It’s bringing down her barriers. Putting her at ease. Helping her become more receptive to what’s coming next.
“That explains the watch.” She nods toward my wrist.
I glance at the sturdy watch with the titanium casing and weatheredfaceplate. “It belonged to Gramps. He gave it to me when I was headed to the Marines. It saved my life.”
