‘There. Happy now?’
Without answering, he slides two more pieces of paper out of the folder.
‘I’ll give you a few moments to look it over.’
‘No one does business on Sunday,’ I grumble without heat. But as he stands again, I don’t look up from the table as I separate the pages, one hasCONTRACTacross the top,and the second onePRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT.
I pick up the first and begin scanning the terms.
A six-month term dissolved by mutual agreement.
No-fault divorce to be processed in the state of New York
‘Why New York? I haven’t even agreed to go there yet.’
‘The UK has the unfortunate requirement of divorce proceedings not beginning until twelve months after the date of marriage. And there’s currently no such thing as a no-fault divorce.’
‘Pretty sure whatever goes wrong will be your fault anyway,’ I mutter, returning to the paperwork.
Half a million deposited into my personal bank account and the same amount into the company account within forty-eight hours of a legal marriage ...further to point something or other.
Wow. He really wasn’t kidding.
Further monies deposited into the business account at monthly increments for the period of six months, totalling the amount of the amount of...That’s a lot of zeros, and it will more than keep my baby afloat.
Beckett to be appointed to the company board.A board we currently don’t have, by the way.
A number of new hires listed, candidates to be vetted by him or his representative.Sure, these I need to take the business to the next level, apparently.
I flip the first page over, picking up my wine glass, when the last three points almost make me drop it.
Monogamy for the length of the term.
Cohabitation a prerequisite of the agreement for the full term.
The marriage is to be consummated with forty-eight hours of a legal marriage or all terms to become null and void.
I find myself blinking rapidly, my mind empty of all other thoughts.
Live with him.
Have sex with him?
Once? Twice? Every night? Once or twice every night?
‘Well, you’re not storming out of the place, so that’s promising.’ He’s suddenly sitting across from me again. ‘The final two points, or three?’
I nod, mumbling something about marriage being created for monogamy. But isn’t it also meant to be for love?
‘I’m sure marriage means many different things to many different people. For some, it’s for financial gain, insurance coverage, and tax breaks. For others, it’s cultural requirement, a tenant of a religion even. Some marry for stability or prestige. But not all marriages work on the basis of fidelity. Ours will.’
His gaze is fiery, his language one of absolutes. I will be his and his alone. Something dark and exquisite breaks open inside me—a sudden ache, a need, a requirement for him to fill—but I can’t admit to any of that.
‘You want me to whore myself to you?’ My question is reasonable. Well, maybe my tone is.
‘That’s not what this is,’ Beckett answers carefully.
‘No? I guess I must’ve misunderstood.’ Picking up the papers, I lick my finger and begin flicking the edges angrily as though I can’t remember where the words lurk. Words tantamount to money for sex.Sex with him, more specifically.My heart is beating so fast I feel like I’ve run a marathon, my body and my head at war with the words I’d just read.‘Ah, here,’ I bite out. ‘The marriage is to be consummated—’
