However, no make-believe scenarios could have ever prepared me for my new reality.
His blond hair accentuates his hollow emerald-green eyes, which seem to hold so many secrets that the curious part of me is inspired to uncover them all. However, the coldness and power radiating from him almost threaten me to never dare do such a thing.
For him, his space is sacred, and one should never cross the boundaries he has set around himself.
The white shirt under his gray suit stretches around his wide shoulders and emphasizes his muscular form, and I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze. He must be around six-foot-five. I can barely reach his shoulders by the looks of it. His massive physique probably allows him to tower over most people and adds to his ruthless reputation.
The tie wrapped around his neck has a slightly loose knot, and my fingers itch to move closer to him and adjust it so nothing would ruin his perfection.
Oh my God.
What kind of thoughts are these? I never found men in suits or ties, for that matter, hot, but the idea of adjusting this man’s tie sends goose bumps breaking out on my skin, creating rather carnal images in my head that are hard to shake off.
My untouched body is so starved for attention that it apparently finds any guy attractive, although saying that would be an injustice to this man.
He is gorgeous, from his dark handsomeness to the charisma that radiates around me, showing me that this man bends everyone to his will, and going against him or trying to trick him would be a big mistake.
This knowledge sends fire to every cell in my body because with a man like that, no one would dare to hurt a woman. She’d know he’d always make them all pay for harming her, and that’s an intoxicating thought in itself.
His high cheekbones would have given his face the perfect symmetry, carved by the sculptors, except for the long, angry red scar running from his right cheek to his neck. Something inside me breaks at the thought of how painful it must have been to be almost burned alive, and some newspapers mentioned he went through several surgeries to fix other injuries. Still, due to the nerves being too close to his eye, they couldn’t fix the scar tissue on his face.
I clench my fists, resisting the impulsive urge to touch it, wondering how the puckered skin feels underneath my palm and if it still hurts him.
For any other man, it might have ruined his look, but for Orion…it just adds to his overall rugged charm.
A handsome villain straight from the fairy tales, for he could never be called a prince, and all I can do is stare at him like an idiot, not being able to introduce myself.
“If you’re done gawking at me, Diana, close the door and let’s proceed. Time is money, and I’m a businessman.”
His harsh tone is akin to cold water pouring over me and snatching me from the spell that was cast on me the minute our eyes met. My cheeks heat just thinking about the implication of his words.
How embarrassing and pathetic I must seem to him. Orion is probably used to leaving women speechless, and he finds my attention on him annoying.
I have no illusions about my looks. Most of my high school years were spent fighting insecurities about my fuller form and the constant teasing from guys about my curves. They went out of their way to point out how I didn’t fit any beauty standards. I still shudder at the thought of them pinching and grabbing my ass, thinking it was funny.
Someone clicks his tongue, and that’s when I notice another man in the office. My eyes grow wide because I recognize him right away.
He’s a legend in the courtroom, and I even attended one of his trials when I had to fulfill my jury duty. Let’s just say I pity anyone fighting the guy in court.
To my knowledge, he has never lost a case to date.
“Orion, where are your manners?” He gets up from the chair, widens his mouth in a smile, and extends his hand to me. “Rafael Wright. Nice to meet you.”
“Diana. It’s nice to meet you as well.” I shake his hand and quickly let go when a weird tension pollutes the air, as if someone is wrapping silk ties around my throat and cutting off my oxygen supply. “Are you going to officiate the wedding?” I furrow my brow in confusion. Why else do we need a lawyer here? That’s when the shared family name dawns on me. “Are you two brothers?” There is little information available about the Wright family so I always assumed Orion was an only child.
Rafael chuckles. “Second cousins, to be exact. And to answer your question, no. The judge will arrive shortly. I’m Orion’slawyer, and as long as you’re his wife…yours. I’ve prepared the marriage contract and a prenup that you need to sign before the ceremony.” He reaches for something beside his chair, and I see the black folder in his hand. “Here. It’s a sound contract that benefits both of you. Sign it without worry.”
I grab it from him, flipping it open while shifting uncomfortably under the prolonged silence from Orion, who seems to be drilling his stare into me. I wonder if he expected me to be more beautiful or something?
I straighten, refusing to be bothered by it. Who cares about a stranger’s opinion?
Then I swallow back the hysterical laughter bubbling to the surface, since that stranger would soon be my husband.
I raise my brow at Rafael. “No offense, but until I’m legally married to your cousin, you’re representing only his interests. Which means it’s sound and beneficial to him. Not sure if the same applies to me.”
“Ah, I do like how you think, future sister-in-law.” He goes to the bar in the right corner of this spacious office, which seems so bland. There must be an en suite that leads to a bathroom.
And, of course, the magnificent view of Boston from the thirty-fifth floor. If I were him, I wouldn’t be able to work and would just stare at it all the time.
