Granted, that was already taken care of.
On the way to the courthouse, I’d taken the liberty of reserving this room for us. It’s a room I stay in often when I want to get away from the rest of the world. I don’t know what it is about Lanche, but I enjoy coming here to decompress. The owners of the hotel know me. They know I spend money here, so I’m treated like a VIP when I show. It’s why the room was already ready for me.
I also asked that they have a dinner brought to the room thirty minutes after arrival.
“We’re having a get to know each other few days,” I shrug. “Essentially, we’re on a honeymoon.” We’d handle everything at Emerie’s apartment when we left here.
“A honeymoon?” The way her brows furrow is kinda cute.
“Yeah.” I nod curtly. “We’re married. Need to be able to know things as a married couple.”
“Is that why you bought the wedding rings?”
“Yep.” The ones on her finger, I spotted immediately, but I also saw her look at it and knew that was the one to get her. I might not like the situation or how we ended up married, still she deserved something pretty after being all but sold off.
I knew there was going to be more to this whole scenario and getting her out of the fire. Grant and I talked about it while we drove to the courthouse. He knew I knew what he’s doing here and with this situation regarding Emerie and her father. Neither of us like playing games and the best way to do deal with something like this is to play along. Get the girl out of the way. She’s no longer able to be used as a pawn in the middle of the game.
Besides, Emerie was beautiful. More so now when her attention is on me. Though she looks pissed.
“That’s it? That’s the only answer you’re going to give me? Yep?” Emerie flays her arms around and huffs. “That’s not an answer.”
“You’re my wife, Emerie. You need a ring to show that you’re mine.” I raise my hand for her to see. “So do I.”
“You realize this is nothing more than a fake marriage, right?”
“Signed the papers myself, sweetheart, nothing fake about it,” I tell her, moving toward her. I stop when I’m directly in her space, hook an arm around her waist, and tug her right up against me. “You’re mine, Emerie. My wife now, and I keep what I want. You can fight me all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m your husband now.”
“I’m not . . .”
“You are.” Using my free hand to reach up into her hair, I wrench her head back and dip my head ‘til we’re mere inches from our lips touching. “I won’t hurt you, Emerie. That’s not something I’d do. Not to you. You’re my wife. It’s now my job to protect you. Anyone, including your father, will end up with a bullet between their eyes if they so much as come at you.”
“But . . .”
“There’s no buts to this. Come to terms with it. We’re here for the next two days to get used to each other. After that, we’ll pack up your apartment, take your stuff to my house.”
“So, you don’t live at the Devore estate?” she quips.
“I’ve got a room there for when I need to stay, but I have a house not far from Grant’s.”
I don’t tell her it’s technically right next door to Grant’s place, but between both places, the land between them is massive. It keeps noisy people out. My place, though, isn’t knowledge that I want out. Grant’s friend, Rebel, a woman he used to fuck helped in setting it up in the name of one of Grant’s companies. The one that he’s got me listed as the CEO of. We even made documentation that, should I leave the company, the property was mine to keep. The woman was a genius when it came to the legal side of things. Even when it’s not so legal.
Emerie opens her mouth to say something, but a knock at the door stops her from doing so. Still, I don’t miss the way her body tenses and her attention goes to the door.
“That would be our dinner,” I tell her, and leave her to go open the door and let the attendant in.
“Good evening, Mr. Blanche,” Marcel, a kid I’d helped get a job here, says in greeting.
Marcel had been living on the streets in the middle of winter last year. I found him while I’d been on a job. He actually witnessed me killing a mark, but instead of being scared of me, he looked up to me instead. He had nowhere to go and needed help. I talked to the owner here at the hotel, and they gave him a job, as well as put him up in one of the cheaper rooms until he was able to afford something of his own. The kid had been seventeen and escaping a bad situation.
“Marcel.” I nod and step aside for him to wheel the food cart into the room.
“Nancy made sure to prepare something good for you. It wasn’t even on the menu, but when you told Mr. Hill you were bringing your wife with you, Nancy wanted to make sure it was, as she put it, ‘most enjoyable’,” Marcel rambles. “She even added chocolate-covered strawberries for the two of you.”
“I appreciate it,” I tell the boy, pulling out my wallet to give him a tip as he turns back toward me, then looks to Emerie. “Marcel, Emerie. Emerie, Marcel.”
“Nice to meet you,” Emerie murmurs, looking ready to ask even more questions. Questions that should annoy. They even do, to an extent, but still, it’s more interesting to me. It tells me about her more than anything. Tells me that she’s a lot more than a pretty face. She uses her head.
“You as well, Mrs. Blanche.” Marcel nods to her, looks to me, and starts for the door. I reach a hand out in his direction to hand him the hundred I pulled out. Marcel has learned over the months he’s been here not to question the money, so he simply says, “Thank you.”
