His lips twist. A flash of anger crowds his eyes. “Business before family. That’s Margot’s motto.”
"Why are you telling me this?"
"So, you realize what was behind my asking you to be my wife."
Wife. He said 'my wife.' A thrill replaces the alarm. I slap it aside. Take a few more sips of the water, compose myself.
He watches me closely. "Are you okay?"
You asked me to marry you, so you can save your restaurant and claim your inheritance. How do you expect me to be okay with that? That’s what I want to say. But I don’t.
Instead, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and face him. "You're serious about this?”
"Why wouldn’t I be?" He looks offended.
"Because we don’t know each other."
"We can remedy that."
My head spins.
His expression is completely earnest. Calm. Certain. As if this is the most logical solution in the world, and he fully expects me to agree.
Marry him?
Phoenix will lose her mind. She and Connor started the same way—a convenience arrangement that became real— but even she'd admit that James is a different animal entirely. The Duke of Freeze has ice in his veins, and no interest in thawing.
Zoey and Grace have watched enough of our friends stumble into fake marriages that turned real. Even they'd agree the odds with James are zero.
And Briar? She'll think I've lost my mind.
And maybe I have.
Because this is James. My boss. A man I have only known properly for three months.
I may have met him five years ago, but one intense evening does not mean you marry someone.
Except… A part of me does want to marry him.
The truth is, part of me has never quite forgotten the way he made me feel that night.
The way he still makes me feel now.
Drawn to him. Off balance. Like I'm standing on the edge of something thrilling. Something life-changing. Something that could sweep me away if I’m not careful.
All the more reason I can’t marry him. Not when there are no real feelings involved on his side.
“I don’t want to marry you.” I set my jaw.
He seems taken aback, like he can’t fathom how someone would not want to be his wife. The ego on this guy.
"You’ve barely spoken to me since I joined your team." I tip up my chin. "And when you have, it’s only to yell at me."
He has the cheek to look surprised. "I've barely raised my voice at you."
I snort. "You don’t have to increase the volume of your voice to yell. You simply grow distant and so cold, the air around you turns arctic. It feels like I’m caught in a snowstorm when you're displeased…which is all the time, by the way."
Once more, he seems nonplussed. Thrice in a row. I’m breaking some personal records today.
