“Callum—”
His fingers tightened. “Breathe. What’s wrong, baby?”
My heart clawed at my ribs. “We never talked about a prenup.”
There it was. Out in the open now, all breathless and trembling. And just like that, the holy quiet cracked.
I’d been so busy dreaming of vows and veils, I forgot what waited on the other side?—
My family. His freedom. Our fortunes.
And the one question I should’ve asked before we ever said yes.
Callum was quiet for a moment,but the seconds felt like minutes.
Putain, what was Ithinking, ruining this precious moment between us?
“And I–I mean, if you want one, I understand. I completely understand,” I stammered, praying my English wouldn’t fail me right now. “I can get Ivy to call Alain. We could draft something now, even just a post-nuptial agreement. Something simple. I don't want you to ever feel like–like I’d take anything from you. I know what you’ve built. Irespectwhat you've built. Your legacy, your name. And I—God, Cal—I don’t want this to become athinglater. I don’t want it hanging over us.”
He was quiet, but not gone. Obviously. I could feel him breathing just inches away, but his lack of response made my blood pressure spike.
“I know it’s not romantic,” I rushed on. “And my parents will probably try to force it on us even though my grandfather's trust is ironclad. So just be prepared for that. And, mon Dieu, why am I rambling?” I paused and forced a deep breath into my lungs. “The point I'm trying to make is that I understand if you want to protect your assets, baby. Because if something ever happened, I know I’m safe. I want to make sure you feel that, too.”
My heart raced until he finally answered, his thumb never pausing its soothing circles across my knuckles.
“Would it makeyoufeel better if we did?”
My bottom lip wobbled. I closed my eyes to try to hold the tears in.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what the right answer is. I just… I don’t want anything to go wrong. I don’t want to hurt us later because I missed something now. I don’t want my parents to think I’ve been reckless. And I don’t wantyouto feel trapped or afraid to leave one day. Not that you would—I don’t think you would—but what if I mess this up? What if I’m not enough?”
His grip tightened instantly, enough to make me gasp softly.
“Youareenough. More than enough,” he said. “You always have been. And I don’t need another contract to tell me how I feel. The only one I need is the one that says we belong to each other now.”
“But if you want one?—”
“I don’t,” he said, firmly now. “I wantyou.I wantus.If you change your mind later, if something shifts, we can talk about it then. Together. But right now? I’m marrying you. Not your family. Not your money. Not your name. Just you.”
A tear slid down my cheek.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Okay.”
“I didn’t fight my way to the top and work this hard just to hold it all alone. I did it to offer something lasting to the peopleI love. And now you’re that person. We’re building something, baby, with legacy and love. A life we get to call ours.”
He dropped his voice even quieter. That tone. The one that slipped beneath my skin like silk and command, the one that made my knees weak and my heart beat harder—making it impossible to forget who I belonged to.
“I wish I could take the edge off for you right now,” he murmured. “Ease the ache, keep you floating in our little bliss bubble where nothing touches you but me. But I need you to stay with me for just a little longer.”
My pulse kicked up a notch and sweat gathered on the nape of my neck. I pressed my thighs together, pulse throbbing between them. “Please,” I pleaded, though for what I wasn’t sure, just that he made my head reel.
Stupidly romantic Scotsman who knew how to make me swoon through pain and poetry and pleasure.
“You’re going to be a good girl,” he told me, gravelly like the words were carved from hunger and heat, “walk down that aisle, marry me in front of our people, and then,” he exhaled like a promise, “then I’m going to spend the entire night rewarding you for becoming mine forever.”
My nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of my dress, straining against the charmeuse. I didn’t even try to hide the shiver that raked through me.
“Yes, sir,” I whimpered.
