Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Stop it,” I snap, whirling on him. “How the hell do you know any of that stuff?”
“I did my research,” he says coolly. “I’m not fool enough to propose marriage to a total stranger.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing. Reciting facts doesn’t mean you actually know me.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. Facts tell me everything I need to know. You grew up in Pomona. Went to Grand View High School, got decent grades, even applied to some colleges. You were accepted to Rutgers, Temple, Penn State, and Villanova, but couldn’t afford tuition. Then you got in an accident.”
“Stop it right now,” I snap at him, rubbing my knee. “I don’t want to hear about my accident, okay? You don’t know a damn thing about it.”
Facts can’t tell him about the scream of tires, about the crunch of glass, about the pain of lying face-down on concrete unable to move, terrified I’m going to die. Facts can’t tell him about the agony and struggles since then.
“I know you’ve been in rehabilitation for seven years,” he says softly, looking down at my legs. “I know we’ve bent the rules and made accommodations for you, and we’re happy to do it. Like you said, Sunrise is a family. I’m inviting you deeper into that family.”
“This is insanity,” I say, backing away.
But my knee gives out again, and I stumble.
Adler comes forward. Too fast for me to stop. He grabs my arms, steadying me, the big man standing so close I can smell him all over again. I would’ve been fine, I stumble all the damn time, but I can see the concern in his eyes. His mouth is close to my lips, and I take in a sudden, sharp breath. Spice, musk, a hint of wine. He smells as good as he looks, and my heart’s going wild.
“I’m okay,” I say, not trying to extract myself. A hammer-sharp pulse grinds in between my legs. “Just overwhelmed.”
“Why don’t you sit?”
“No, I’m not staying. I can’t do this. I can’t… I can’t marry you.”
“What, I’m not your type either?”
“Not remotely.”
“Why not?”
“For one, you’re a controlling psychopath.”
He inclines his head. “Okay. That’s fair. What else?”
I can’t believe I’m doing this, but since he invited it, I decide to give him the truth.
“You’re too rich. We’re from different worlds, and I don’t think I could ever fit in somewhere like this.” I glance around the opulently furnished office filled with art and small statues that are probably worth more than the house I grew up in. “You’re an arrogant asshole. You’re blackmailing me into it, which doesn’t help. You’re difficult, picky, selfish—”
“You seem to know a lot about me,” he says quietly.
“I’ve been working for you for a long time now. I’ve learned a few things.”
“Not everything you heard on the floor is true.”
“If you think you can learn everything you need to know about me from a few lines in a dossier, then I can learn everything I need to know about you from a few rumors in the break room. I don’t want this.”
“Not even to save your brother? Not even to guarantee a comfortable future for your parents? You can move them out of that house. Get them a decent car. Pay for healthcare for your father. Get your mother’s teeth fixed. Hire a dozen private detectives to keep your brother out of trouble. Imagine what you could accomplish as my wife.”
It’s tempting.
God, it’s so tempting, because all the problems he points out have been nagging at me for a while now.
That’s the sickest part of all this.
I’ve been struggling for years, juggling my disability, my parents, my brother, all the financial needs of this family, and barely keeping my head above water.
Now here comes Adler, offering me a way out.
An absolutely crazy way out, but still.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No, I just can’t. Something else. Anything else.”
“You could be my sex pet instead,” he says, practically purring the words. “Would you prefer that? I’ll keep you tied up in my dungeon, your mouth gagged, your legs spread, so you’re ready and waiting for me to use you however I choose.”
“I, uh—”
But he lets me go. “Sorry, pet. I was kidding.”
I take a step away from him, crossing and uncrossing my arms. “Can you not call me that, please?” I rub my face, trying to get control of myself. The idea of being his that way scares the hell out of me, but there’s a dark temptation deep inside my chest.
“I’m offering you one deal and one deal only. Marry me, commit to giving me a baby, and I will pardon your brother and provide you all the money you’ll ever need to take care of your family. Once I’ve met the requirements of the will and the money is put into my control, we can amicably divorce.”