Page 22 of Ruthless Enforcer

“And I'm not a sheltered child.” She doesn't back away. If anything, she leans closer, her gaze locked on mine, completely devoid of fear. “I know what you are, Gabriel. I'm not asking you to save my life for free. I'm giving you the only weapon that stops this war before it starts.”

My heart hits a heavy, violent rhythm against my ribs.

She’s twenty-four years old. She’s sitting in my sweatshirt with fucking Louboutins on, in someone else’s kitchen, proposing an alliance that would rewrite the power structure of the entire Pacific Northwest.

And she’s looking at me like she’s daring me to refuse.

“It won’t be a real marriage, Clara.” I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this. “Separate rooms. Strict boundaries. We stay alive, we get Turner, and when the dust settles, we figure out an exit strategy that doesn't leave you ruined and me in a grave.”

A tiny, wicked smile curves her lips—so faint, so arrogant, it makes my blood roar and my cock stir. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to survive the night, Gabriel.”

She reaches out, her small, cool fingers wrapping around my wrist, right over the dark black ink circling my pulse. Her grip is surprisingly firm. Unyielding. “So what do you say?”

19

CLARA

I’ve imagined Gabriel Reyes saying yes to me more times than I’d ever admit.

In every stupid, impossible version of the fantasy, he wanted me. He chose me. And I knew, even then, that none of it would ever happen.

Except now maybe it could.

Holding my breath, trying not to show how much I want this, I watch his jaw tighten as he studies me. The muscle beneath his skin pulses once, twice, three times. The playfulness is gone. What's left is pure, crystalline ruthlessness.

He’s not going to say yes. Why would he? It’s insane. He’d be better off dumping me here and going about his life. I brace myself for rejection, which is utterly stupid too, because I’ve never been his. He only came to kidnap me because his friend asked him to.

So I’m completely caught by surprise when he says, "Yes, Duchess. I'll marry you."

20

GABRIEL

I've done a lot of stupid things for beautiful women.

Marrying one I already want is a fucking first.

21

CLARA

Then my traitorous brain supplies two words I somehow failed to consider: wedding night.

22

GABRIEL

One thing is certain: there will not be a fucking wedding night.

23

COLE

“Your right shoulder is lower than your left.”

I look at myself in the mirror and then meet the tailor’s gaze in the reflection. “No, it isn’t.”

He clears his throat.