I could have won, but the longer I looked, the more heat flooded my veins, and I didn’t want to confront the way he made me feel. He was my boss, the asshole who doubted me at every turn. The one who questioned my morals and work ethic. The one who tried to take my ideas from me.
“So, what’s next?”
He got up and walked to the kitchen island, pulling a stack of papers. “I had a contract drawn up. Kind of like a prenup.”
“Okay. That’s good.” Rules were good. It kept us in line. It made it clear where we stood.
“We stay married for at least five years. If it suits us to stay together longer at the end of five years, we can discuss it then. If at any point in the five years you feel unsafe, you may leave.”
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He nodded and kept going. “In that time, no children will be brought into the situation. When it ends, we will leave with the assets we brought into the marriage. If we acquire anything together in those five years, we will do our best to split it evenly.”
“This all seems straight forward.”
“One last thing. We will both remain faithful to each other. There will be no affairs, quiet or otherwise.”
I scoffed, giving him my most dubious stare when all he did was raise an arrogant brow. Nicholas oozed sex. Not wanting to touch that subject with a ten-foot pole, I returned to scanning other portions of the contract. “What’s this? The marriage needs to be consummated?” I shrieked. My eyes shot up, waiting for him to elaborate because surely it didn’t mean what I thought.
“I want this marriage to be true in every sense of the word. We may be going into this because of the convenience for both of us, but I want us to be partners. This is five years of our lives with a commitment to one another—a commitment that will only be solidified if we’re both…satisfied. You will be my wife.”
“You don’t own me,” I stated, but the words came out weak. Something about him calling me his wife hit me harder than anything else that had been discussed. It brought reality crashing through my thin bubble, masking this with a veneer of business. What stole my breath the most was how much I liked hearing him say it.
“I never said I owned you. Your choices are your own. You’re free to work and continue with your life as normal—just with me as your husband.”
“I—I’m not sleeping with you. You can’t legally put that in a contract.” Could he?
Would he be Camden and think he had a right to me however and whenever he wanted?
Nicholas smirked, the look shooting straight to my core, making a liar out of me. “Again, I need to remind you. You seemed to have enjoyed it the last time. Why not do it again? And again.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
Why wasn’t my voice working like I wanted it to? Why was it so breathless?
“Well, have no fear. I won’t force you.”
He stood. His broad shoulders and hard body towered over me as he walked close, the words a façade for a lion amusing itself with its prey.
By the time he reached my side, my chest worked overtime, heaving from my panting breaths. One arm rested on the table and the other on the back of my chair. He caged me in, leaning into my personal space. Everything stopped when he dragged his nose along my cheekbone to my ear.
“Tell me, Vera. Will you kiss me on our wedding day? Or only offer your cheek?”
I opened my mouth, not knowing what would come out, when he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and stood back, grabbing the dishes with him.
I glared at his retreating back, hating how much he affected me. His stupid smile left no doubt that he knew it too. I grabbed the other dishes and brought them to the island, sliding them across to the sink, barely managing to set them down softly and not shatter them at his feet.
“I want an actual wedding,” he said without looking up from washing dishes.
“Why?”
He paused for only a moment before easily answering, “Appearances.”
That made sense. Especially if he hoped marrying a Mariano would garner him more recognition—a big event would only add to that.
“Seeing as we’re going against some opposition, we should hurry the process along. I’m thinking in a month or so. I’ll contact someone and make it all happen per our timeline. Money isn’t an issue.”
I fell back against one of the stools at the island. He talked about it all so easily like it was a done deal. He didn’t appear to be struggling with any of this, while my body twisted with indecision and heat.