“What good is being filthy rich if my girl won’t let me buy her things,” he mutters. “What are thesethingsthat can’t be bought?”
I press my lips together and shake my head.
“Delilah…”
I drop my gaze at the warning in his voice. Xavier’s frustration isn’t unfounded, but I can’t find the courage to share my innermost thoughts.
His question, simple yet loaded, hangs unanswered as I struggle to navigate the web of needs and desires within me. What I want is made up of passion and moments, not possessions and money.
His stare drills into me as if he’s mining for the things buried in my mind. “Do you think I’m going to make fun of you?”
“I hope not.”
“I won’t,” he says, his tone resolute. “Whatever’s important to you is important to me.”
I flick my eyes to his. The weight of his gaze is too much, pushing me toward a confession I’m not ready to make. But the determination that wrinkles his forehead, the earnest need on his face to understand me, fractures my walls.
“I didn’t grow up with having things, so they’ve never been a priority. Would it be nice? Sure, but that’s not what would make me happy.” I cover my face with my hands when his stare becomes overwhelming. “I can’t articulate what I want because…”
He gently pries my hands away to frame my face with his palms. “Because?”
“I’m worried you’re the only person who could make my dreams reality.” I drop my voice to just above a whisper as fear wraps around my heart and squeezes. “It’s scary to want something that might not happen. The disappointment would crush me.”
Xavier’s expression softens, the frustration from earlier melting away. “I understand that more than you know. The only difference is I’m not afraid to go after what I want. That’s how I ended up winning you.”
I shrug, ignoring the way my heart stutters in my chest.
“I knew what I wanted and made sure to get it,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “Now, what I want is to give you something. If you don’t give me a hint, I’ll buy you a yacht next.”
“You’d better not. The very idea makes me uncomfortable.”
He grins at me. “You should get used to wealth. Whatever I have will be yours someday.”
I shake my head vehemently, dislodging it from his grip. “Don’t say things like that.”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, especially if it’s the truth. You will be Mrs. Xavier Donovan. You’ll have access to the authority and power that comes with my name.Ourname.”
“If you’re going to be stubborn about it, then at least give me something that shows what I mean to you,” I say, the words tumbling out, clumsy and honest at the same time. Although I’d say just about anything to get away from the subject of marriage. As much as I’m beginning to care for Xavier, I can’t imagine being legally bound to him right now.
His eyes gleam with understanding. “Of course you’d want something like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s never been about the cost of the gift, but the value it holds to the receiver. You want sentiment, not splendor. I should’ve seen that, but I was too blinded by my guilt.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” I mumble. I clear my throat and lift my chin. “My injury wasn’t your fault. Well, not in the way that matters. The Order forced your hand. I heard your conversation with Ben in the clinic, and I know you were just protecting me—in a fucked-up kind of way.”
He leans down and rests his forehead against mine. Then he exhales, the sound like the release of a thousand unspoken words. “You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.”
I close my eyes against the onslaught of emotions slamming into me at his confession. The effect I have on this man is unbelievable. The effect he has on me is unrelenting. How did I ever think I could walk away from this bride contract unscathed?
Or walk away from Xavier at all?
“Open your eyes,” he says.
I do, and the expression on his face has my stomach somersaulting.
“You’re blushing.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Why?”
