Now it’s my turn to be taken aback. I expected hesitation, questions, and more discussion. Not immediate acceptance.
“You don’t want time to think about it?”
Her smile is small, sad, pragmatic. “What’s to think about? You’re offering me safety, security, and a life. No one else is offering me anything.”
And there’s the simple truth. She’s learned to take whatever escape presents itself, to recognize a life raft when she sees one.
“Nora, this is a legal contract. If you sign this, you’re bound to me.”
“I’m already bound to you. You bought me, remember?”
Her words twist my insides in a way I don’t like.
“This is different,” I counter, leaning forward. “This gives you rights. Protection.” I meet her eyes, willing her to understand. “You’d be an O’Rourke.”
Something shifts in her gaze at that. A flicker of—what? Hope? Doubt? Disbelief? I can’t read it.
I reach out, offering her my hand. “Then we have an agreement.”
She looks at my outstretched hand for a long moment, then she places her smaller hand in mine.
Her palm is warm, her fingers delicate. I can see the blue veins beneath her pale skin. Her pulse hammersagainst my fingers—fast, erratic, revealing the nerves her face hides.
My thumb strokes across her knuckles. I know I should let go, close the deal, and move on to logistics. But I don’t. I hold on, letting the warmth of her skin seep into mine.
Her breath snags on an inhale. Her lips part. Her eyes—those hazel eyes that have haunted me since I first saw them—lock with mine.
The space between us shrinks, though neither of us moves. Just hands touching, but it feels more intimate than it has any right to.
I want to pull her to me. To seal this bargain with my mouth on hers.
Which is insane. This is a practical arrangement. Not whatever this heat between us is threatening to become.
I release her hand reluctantly.
“I’ll arrange the ceremony for as soon as possible,” I announce. “Small, just witnesses. Unless you want?—”
“No,” she cuts me off. “Small is good.”
I nod. “I’ll take care of everything.”
As I walk to my office to make the necessary calls, I glance back. She’s staring at her hand where I touched her.
Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are wide. Her chest rises and falls too quickly.
She’s not afraid. Not anymore.
She’s responding to me. To my touch.
This was supposed to be a strategic decision. A business arrangement. But the way my fingers itch to touch her again tells a different story.
Chapter 6
Nora
Tomorrow, I’ll be his wife.
I feel as though I’ve entered an alternate universe. I’m marrying a man I’ve known for mere days—a man who terrifies half of Chicago.
