“I’m not joking,” I confirm.
I watch Alina’s face as she processes my offer, tracking the subtle shifts in her expression. Surprise melts into confusion, then wariness, her blue eyes searching mine for the catch she believes must exist.
She’s right to be suspicious. There’s always a price, always a fine print.
Everything I’ve said is true, though. As my wife, she’d have more freedom. And as my wife, there’s very little I wouldn’t give her or let her do once she’s proven herself to me. AstheDebt Collector, Ialwayspay my own debts.
When—not if—Alina says yes, she’s the one doing something for me. Sure, it would also benefit her. But I’m the one whoneedsto get married. So the debt is mine to repay.
“Can I have some time to think about it?” she asks finally, her voice barely audible over the dying crackle of the fire.
Although I want to demand an answer now, I nod. “Yes,” I rasp. “I’ll be gone for the next couple of days. Take those to think it through,” I reply, rising from my seat.
The whiskey has left a pleasant warmth in my blood, but it’s nothing compared to the heat that floods me when I look at her.
This is a proposal of convenience and nothing more. What I feel for Alina is nothing more than physical attraction, and that’s enough.
“Where are you going?” Curiosity sparkles in her bright blues.
I chuckle softly. “Is that my future wife or my captive asking?” I query.
“Your captive.”
“Then it’s none of your business,” I smirk.
She gapes at me, her brows shooting high up her forehead in shock. “And if I said it was your future wife?”
“Then I’d tell you.” Standing up, I gesture toward the door. “Come, I’ll walk you back to your room.”
She stands, smoothing down her shirt. Taking one step, she stumbles. I reach out to steady her, my fingers wrapping around her upper arm.
“Nerves or whiskey?” I ask wryly.
Licking her lips, she looks up at me. “A bit of both,” she admits.
Fuck, the look in her eyes screams ‘kiss me’ and I’m seconds from giving in. With each step toward her room, I’m fighting to remember why I don’t just ravage her mouth again and give her another orgasm to remember me by. Preferably with my mouth this time.
But there’s no fucking time to indulge. Not when I’m meeting with the Russians early in the morning. Besides, I don’t want her to blurt out something stupid while she’s deep in the throes of passion. I want Alina toreallyconsider my proposal.
The walk to her room is quiet, tense with unspoken questions. I expect her to interrogate me about my proposal, to demand details, guarantees. But she simply walks beside me, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.
“What if I say no?” she asks suddenly, her voice small but not defeated.
“Then nothing changes,” I say with a shrug. “You remain here. As my captive.”
“And if I say yes?” The question comes out barely above a whisper.
I smile, slow and deliberate. “Then everything changes.”
She opens her mouth as if to ask another question, then closes it again. “Why are you doing this? What do you get out of marrying me?”
I reach down, tilting her chin up with one finger so she has to meet my gaze. “You can ask me that the next time you win a game against me,” I tell her, my voice low and intimate. “And I’ll answer honestly.”
Chapter 16
Alina
Raffaele’s proposal echoes in my ears like a fever dream.
