Page 60 of To Tango, with Desire

“After a year, if you still can’t stand the sight of me, be my guest. But I have a few more terms of my own. One. No falling in love.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, you’re the last man on earth that I’d be falling in love with.”

“Good. Two. No fucking, dating, or dancing with other men.”

“We said we wouldn’t date—wait, I can’t dance with other people? That’s crazy.”

“You can dance at as many milongas as you like, but no clubs. No bumping and grinding.”

“Now you’re showing your age.”

I threw her a pointed look, glad when she blushed. I didn’t want a repeat of her birthday, even if the man was gay. “You will come home to me every night. And I’ll do the same. I don’t tolerate cheating, understood?”

“That’s fine with me.”

“And finally. If after a year, you decide to annul this marriage, I will be setting up a financial portfolio for you for the future. You will receive a very lucrative payout in our divorce.”

Amira toyed with the bracelet on her wrist. “So how do you know I won’t just bide my time and then divorce you after a year?”

I smiled, oddly certain that that wouldn’t happen. “Because I think you underestimate just how pleasurable being married to me will be.”

“Here we go again.”

I leaned back, enjoying this process. “At any rate, you’re not the type. I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I make risky deals every day in business, and I’ve learned a lot about trusting my judgment. What I’ve realized is that you may be stubborn, fiery, and independent, but you’re not mean. You have values and a kind heart.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable. You haven’t lived with me yet. I’m messy too.”

“Like I said, I enjoy a challenge. Are you on birth control?”

“I am.”

“Good. I’ll set you up with a discreet gynecologist. Once we officially announce our engagement, the media will be swarming. I’ll have my press team talk you through it all. But I usually keep a low profile, so it shouldn’t be an issue. When you get into big money and big business, that stuff is inevitable, so if reporters come at you, say no comment. If photographers take your picture, don’t acknowledge them. The press aren’t your friends. They’re here for a good story.”

Amira’s expression turned dubious. “Okay.”

“Don’t be scared. And don’t read everything you see online. So, are we in agreement?”

Amira nodded. “Yes.”

“I prefer to savor my victories.”

I stood, approaching her slowly. She hastily got to her feet, hand outstretched. I shook it, then tugged her forward so she was flush against my body.

“Zane—” she warned.

“I may have forgotten to mention that seduction isn’t sex. Telling you about all the ways I’d like to make you come isn’t sex. I won’t be drawing down your underwear and burying my face in your pussy, until you say so. You’ll come to realize I’m a man who always keeps his word.”

I reached behind her, unclasping the necklace. Then I slid her engagement ring off the worn chain and took her hand.

When I looked into her eyes, I knew she was trying to process everything, to understand my motivations.

“Marry me, Amira?”

Her soft brown eyes swirled with emotion. After a moment, she nodded. “Yes. I will marry you, Zane.”

Something inside of me shifted. A mixture of relief and pride and . . . something else. Something I couldn’t figure out.

I looked down at the ring on her finger, the diamonds gleaming, catching the light.