I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My panic was choking me, making it hard to think, hard to even breathe. I glanced around, looking for an escape or some way to put space between us.
“Vivian.” His tone was softer, and his brow furrowed as he studied me. “Breathe.”
I shook my head, backing away until my shoulders hit the wall. “I can’t—I don’t?—”
He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a frightened animal. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Look at me.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes pinned me in place. He didn’t look angry anymore. In fact, he looked concerned. It was almost enough to steady me. Almost.
“I don’t want this,” I blurted. “I don’t want any of this.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched. For a moment, I thought he might lash out, but he took a step back, giving me space. “I’m not going to force you into my bed, Vivian. Think of me what you want, but I’m not that kind of man.”
My panic receded slightly. I didn’t know if I believed him—how could I, after everything?—but he seemed completely genuine.
“Then why are you dragging me to your bedroom?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He took a few steps and opened my bedroom door, gesturing for me to go inside. I hurried past him. So, he’d fuck me inmybedroom. What a gentleman.
His gaze flicked to my bed, then back to me. “You’re my wife now, and that comes with certain expectations. But I’m not a monster, Vivian. Not in the way you think.”
I stared at him. I wasn’t sure what to say. WhatcouldI say? He wasn’t forcing me. At least, not yet. But I knew it was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before I’d be expected to consummate this joke of a marriage.
The tension in my chest eased slightly, and I nodded hesitantly. Whatever was coming next, I wasn’t ready. But for now, at least, I’d been given a reprieve. And for that, I was almost grateful. Almost.
He tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze holding mine with unnerving ease. “You can relax,” he said, his tone calm but sharp, like a blade hidden in silk as he shut the door behind us. “I won’t be fucking you today.”
The relief evaporated in an instant as a rush of fresh panic swept over me. “Today?”
He wasn’t fazed by the panic in my voice. “But there is something else that needs to happen.” He shifted his weight slightly as he loosened his tie. “A binding ritual. You don’t have a choice in that. It’s required of all Gallanti marriages.”
The room suddenly turned colder. “What kind of ritual?” I managed to ask even with the pressure on my chest. Fear threaded through my voice, and I hated that he could probably hear it.
“It’s not as dramatic as you’re imagining. No blood. No pain. It’s straightforward.”
I wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he was so matter-of-fact about it or that I didn’t believe him for a second. I stiffened, my body instinctively readying itself for a fight that felt inevitable.
“Speaking of the ritual,” he drawled, his gaze dropping to my dress, “you’ll want to change into more comfortable clothing.”
Undressing—being vulnerable in front of him in any way—made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t exactly unzip this monstrosity of a dress on my own, and Eldora wasn’t around. My pride warred with my need for help, until finally, I swallowed my unease and forced the words out.
“Can you…” Gods, my voice sounded so small. I cleared my throat. “Can you help me with the zipper?”
A flicker of amusement lit his dark eyes, which was definitely not the menace I’d expected.
“Gladly,” he said, and the silkiness of his voice made my stomach flip.
He stepped forward with predatory grace, and I sucked in a breath as I turned my back to him. My pulse hammered in my ears as I felt his heat behind me, much closer than I’d anticipated.
He put one hand on my hip, his fingers curling just enough to make me hyperaware of every point of contact. With his other hand, he grasped the zipper at the base of my neck, the cool metal brushing against my skin. The first tug was slow, deliberate, the sound of the zipper slicing through the silence like a knife.
I held my breath as he lowered the zipper inch by inch. I thought he’d stop halfway, but he continued slowly as though he was in no hurry. My skin prickled under his touch. He stopped just above the curve of my hips, his fingers grazing my bare back as if testing a boundary.
Sucking in a breath, I stepped forward quickly. I clutched the front of my dress to keep it from slipping down and turned to him.
He looked maddeningly calm, though his smirk was still firmly in place on that perfect mouth. He put his hands in his pockets, and his eyes held an intensity that made me feel like I’d given him more than I intended.
“Ten minutes, Vivian. Don’t make me wait.”
