Page 70 of Her Wicked Husband


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“Trust me, it’s not you, it’s me.” I pat him on the chest, wanting to continue the light mood. When we’re like this, I feel like we’re back in time, filled with affection and laughter. I wasn’t afraid to kiss him or show him how much I adored him. I probably fell for him way too fast and deep. The sensation of being seen was just too heady and addictive.

I’d had boyfriends before, in high school, and they liked the shadow of Finley I portrayed. But Bryce… He likedme. Called me by my real name. Watched movies thatIwas interested in. Gave me flowers thatIwanted. Dined in restaurants that had foodIenjoyed. There was no room for any part of Finley between us, and I clung to him desperately, never wanting to show even a glimpse of imperfection, lest I not measure up.

My heart aches for all that’s been lost between us—things I let slip through my fingers because I was too young and scared when Jude blackmailed me. Hell, I’m still scared of not being good enough, notdeserving to belong. I’m almost thirty, but every time I’m around Bryce, I feel like I’m still twenty, desperate to be perfect so I can be worthy of love and acceptance. The skin around my eyes grows hot with sudden tears, and I blink rapidly to clear them.

“Don’t you have to go to work?” I ask, wanting some peace and quiet to reconcile the many facets of Bryce. I thought I knew him at Harvard, but I realize I only saw a very few sides.

“No. I told them I’d be in late.”

“Two days in a row?”

He shrugs. “I rarely take vacation days. The firm will get over it.”

“You mean your family. Everyone knows they own the firm.”

He grins.

“Nepo baby,” I mutter, although I can’t fully disguise the half-teasing tone.

“Did you just call me a nepo baby?” he demands with mock outrage.

I nod with a small smile.

“Hey, I’m an amazing attorney. You’d be honored to have me on your side. Anyway, I drafted a short agreement for our unholy matrimony.”

I stiffen. I guess it makes sense to put everything in writing when something as important as marriage is at stake. “Fair enough. Guess you need to ensure I don’t get a penny of your money…” I shrug.

He snorts. “You already gottwo hundred millionpennies of my money.”

My cheeks warm at the pointed reminder.

“But we won’t put that in the agreement, unless you want me to,” he says.

“It’s fine. Do I need to hire a lawyer?”

“Up to you. But if it helps, it’s in plain English.”

“Wow, I’m shocked. I was expecting it to be in legalese so dense nobody except the name partners at your firm could understand it.”

Bryce chuckles. “Nowthatwould be an asshole move.”

“Yeah, it would be.” It’s weird to admit to myself that despite our history, he hasn’t been a total bastard. He can be contrary and irritating, but he hasn’t gone above and beyond to be a vindictive dick. I don’t know what to make of that. He hasn’t forgiven me for mybetrayal, so why not cut me down? Humiliate me worse than Jude did?

But he hasn’t. He flipped out with worry when he found out about his mom’s “visit” with me. Part of me wants to believe it might mean we have a future together, the kind that I lost when I acted so stupidly ten years ago. But realistically, I know I’m being blindly optimistic. He’s never going to love me or want to create a family with me. I’m not sure if I could if the situation were reversed.If I caught him in bed with another woman while we were dating, especially if the woman happened to be my rival…?

Bryce hands me the piece of paper to review. As promised, the document is in plain English. There are three main points: one, we have to be faithful to each other; two, we have to share the same bed each night; three, absolutely no babies. The duration is set to two years.

I narrow my eyes. “I guess you’re not going to change the length of our fake marriage?”

“No. Two years, unless you want to go for forty.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to be stuck with me that long.”

An odd expression crosses his face, then his eyes widen slightly.

“What, did you forget an appointment? If so, we can discuss this later.”

“No.” He shakes his head slowly. “It’s something else. Not important.”