14. Jack
She walks into the hotel where I’m staying, and I can’t breathe. She wears a pair of slim-fitting trousers with a gold pleated top, showing her slender shoulders and not much else. But I don’t need to see her skin to know how her body flows; the curves of her ass or her tits that look as good as I know they feel. And I want her legs wrapped around my waist again.
My eyes are on her as she smiles and floats toward me. My wife is like an angel, just not showing her wings.
There’s a quick rise and fall of her chest as she realizes I’m there in front of her, and my heart clenches at how she sucks in a deep breath whenever she locks eyes with me.
Despite her words, I know she feels the same way as me. She’s the only person who has ever made my heart miss a beat. I feel it every time I see her, and I know I’m going to feel it every damn day of my life.
She’s mine.
I’m so fucking happy our marriage is legal, and if I can’t win her heart this time, I’m not giving up. I’m going to make sure she’ll struggle to get rid of me. I’m not going to lose her, though. Not being in her life is painful and twists at my gut everyday she”s been gone.
She married me, and now she’s mine for good.
I just need her to be convinced of it.
I hold out my hand to take hers. She looks for a moment. “I don’t bite.”
She grins. “Oh, you do,” she says playfully. “I came home with a hickey.”
That was something I never used to do, but with her ... my wife ... I feel an overwhelming urge to mark her. To claim her.
She lays her small hand on my arm and rubs it, and smiles. Shivers skate down my spine, letting me know I’m already hers. I just hope she feels the same way.
She takes my hand, and I’ve never been happier than this moment. Her gaze finds mine, and for the first time, she looks timid. Though I know she’ll pretend otherwise. She’ll raise her shoulders and say something sassy to overcome her nerves.
I wonder why she does that.
Another mission waiting for me to uncover.
She feels the connection between us. I can see it in her eyes as I squeeze my hand around hers.
“You look beautiful,” I say, when we reach the table. I pull out a chair for her.
“Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself,” she replies.
“You make me sound like Mr. Darcy,” I say and laugh.
“Much more handsome,” she replies.
My eyes widen at that.
At dinner, she glances at the wedding ring on my finger; my gaze goes to her hand, and she swallows. She pulls on the chain around her neck; the ring is on her. Though I’d be happier, it was on her finger.
“You’re the one who needed a marriage for your inheritance,” she says.
“This isn’t about that. This is about us. I want more,” I say. My voice isn’t demanding; it’s the opposite; it’s almost begging.
“I can’t, not again.”
“What are you afraid of?” I say, taking hold of her hand. “Just give us a chance?”
“No,” she says, I get it. Understand where she’s coming from, not that it’s going to stop me. “This is a fake marriage; we’re fake.”
I draw back and scowl at her. “It’s real. Tell me you feel nothing for me,” I say. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Every morning, evening, I can’t concentrate at work.”
“I can’t do it,” she murmurs.
“You can’t tell me something you feel? You’re scared,” I say. “I get it; I was. Although I knew in Vegas, you were the one for me.” A look of surprise crosses her face as she narrows her eyes. “I didn’t know what I was really feeling. I’d never felt it before.” I pause as I stare at her. “I’ve never fallen in love before.”
“Oh,” she gasps, hearing it again surprises her as much as the first time. Her eyes popping open, probably at the realization I told her I love her again when I said I couldn’t. This time, she knows it’s real.
“And I get that your coping mechanism is to shut down, protect your heart from being in love.”
“I can love,” she whispers.
“And you can be loved,” I say, staring into her eyes, hoping she’s okay with my observation. “Let me prove to you I won’t abandon you. Let me take care of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you,” I say. My heart clenches as I say the words. “I’ve never loved anyone, ever, like I love you. I’ve never told anyone I loved them.”
Tears lace her eyes.
I blow out a breath. “I fucking love you, and I should’ve told you that the moment I knew,” I say. “And I know what I feel is real because you’re always on my mind. I finally inherited my family business, but without you by my side. It just doesn’t seem to matter. For the first time in my life, work isn’t number one, and ... and... I just miss you … I miss you so fucking much.”
“I miss you too,” she whispers, still in shock.
I’m in the middle of the hotel, but I lower on one knee; she slams her hand on her mouth, hiding a shaky breath.
“I never got to ask you to marry me,” I say. “Not properly and seriously. And I want to make that right, Amber Greyson. I mean Clark.”
She laughs.
“Amber, I love you. Stay committed to our marriage because you truly want to. Because I want to spend my life with you. Stay married to me because you want to spend your life with me. If you want a big wedding, I’ll give you it. I’ll give anything if you agree to be my wife forever.”
I flip open the small velvet box, open the lid, and there’s a beautiful diamond ring I designed for her inside. “I thought you needed an engagement ring.”
My vision swims, and I draw a shaky breath. This is it; I’m making this real.
“I didn’t, but it’s perfect,” she says and bites her lip.
“You need to know,” I say. “That once you say yes, you’re mine, forever. I love you, and I promise I’ll never hurt you again. We’ll search for your father; we’ll... we’ll be happy. I’ll make you happy.”
Tears fall from her eyes as I say that. She nods.
“Is that yes? Are you staying married to me?” I whisper. “Oh, god, I love you.”
“Yes!” She laughs and wipes tears from her eyes. “Get up off your knees and kiss me.” I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her to me as she wraps her arms around my neck.
My hand closes on the back of her neck as I pull her closer, and our lips lock, and I feel it again as we kiss with everything we have.
The kiss intensifies, sending shivers down my spine. I break off the kiss, savoring the lingering taste of her on my lips.
I take the prenuptial agreement napkin from my pocket and place it on the table, then I push another piece of paper toward her. She picks up her purse and takes out a pen, which makes me smile because I know she thinks this is an official prenuptial agreement to replace the one she made on the napkin in Vegas.
I pick up the napkin and rip it up. “We don’t need this.”
She smiles, tilting her head to one side with a smirk. “I’m a divorce lawyer; you should have got me to sign this one first.”
“I know you love me for me.” I do; she left a one million dollars on the table, even though she had debts. “That piece of paper is not a prenup. I don’t need one. I’m never divorcing you or you me.”
“You are so bossy.”
I smile. “Read it; it tells you I’m clean of STDs,” I say. She takes the paper and glances over it.
“I’m still not on birth control.”
“Good, I want to start a family with you.”
“Bossy again,” she says, but smiles. “Maybe I’m not ready.”
“Oh,” I murmur.
“Or maybe I am.” She grins. “You are getting on.”
“I’m thirty-four years old,” I grumble.
“Like I said—”
“I want you now,” I growl, my mouth hungrily capturing hers once more, the kiss deepening as our tongues entwine in a passionate dance. As if sensing my struggle to stay in control, she whispers into me, “I want you, too.”
“Fuck. I have a room,” I rush.
“Then why aren’t we there?” she says in a raspy tone.
After marrying my soulmate, this is the second best day of my life.