“You’re not in trouble,” I add quickly. “I simply have a...a proposition for you.”
She sits across from me, folding her hands. My eyes are drawn to her bitten nails.
I draw a breath, ready to launch into the speech I prepared, when suddenly all thoughts leave my head, and I blurt out, “It’s a marriage proposition.”
The words land between us like stones dropped in still water. I watch ripples of confusion cross her face.
“Marriage?” She blinks. “Who? Who’s getting married?” And then it dawns on her. “Wait, a proposition forme?You want to marryme? Why?”
I shift, angling toward her. “You need permanent protection and security.” I keep my tone direct, clear, and business-like. “Marriage gives you legal protection, access to resources, safety from anyone who might come looking for you.”
She processes this, wariness evident in her expression.
“In my world, as my wife, you’d be untouchable.”
She blinks, her lashes fluttering rapid-fire against her cheeks, but remains silent.
This is where I lay it on thickly, dangle more of the carrot. “You’d live here, you’d have financial security, protection, freedom to pursue whatever goals you want—education, work, hobbies.”
She looks at me fully then, her eyes shrewdly searching my face for the lie, the trap, the hidden cost.
“What do you get out of this? Men like you don’t makedeals that only benefit one side.” She holds my gaze. Brave girl.
I feel a sliver of pride. She’s smart.
“You’re right.” I lean back, conceding the point. “I’ve been under pressure from family and business associates for years. Recently, the pressure has increased. Substantially. This will satisfy their demands without requiring me to...negotiate with potential brides and their families.”
“So I’m convenient.” No judgment in her voice. Just stating facts.
“No.” The word comes out harder than intended. “You’re practical. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
I study her profile—the stubborn set of her jaw, the way she holds herself so carefully contained. Even terrified and powerless, she asks questions. Pushes back, however gently. Good girl.
“It’s a win-win. You get security and the chance at a better future, and I get a wife who won’t scheme for power or try to manipulate the family business. Who won’t have relatives angling for advantages or expecting favors. Someone who...” I pause, searching for the right words. “Someone who doesn’t want anything from me except to be left alone.”
“That’s what you think I want? To be left alone?”
“Isn’t it?”
She looks away. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve never been allowed to want anything.”
The admission costs her—I can see it in the white-knuckle grip of her folded hands.
I’m not sure how to respond to it, so I continue my proposal. “You’d live here. Attend business events with me occasionally, family functions when required, andtogether we maintain the appearance of a legitimate marriage.”
I sound as if I’m negotiating a business merger instead of proposing marriage.
Because that’s what this is. A merger. A strategic alliance.
So why does a part of me hate how sterile it sounds?
“Appearance.”Nora turns the word over, analyzing every angle. She’s not stupid. Far from it. I can see the wheels turning behind her guarded mask. “So you don’t actually want a wife. You want someone to play the part.”
“Publicly, you’d be on my arm at events. Play the role.”
Her fingers twist tighter. “And privately?”
