Chapter 31
Scarlett
Istand just inside the doorway of Cormac’s apartment. Our apartment now. And I try not to gape.
It’s a luxury condo with current amenities, but the designers added old-world charm and classic details like decorative molding, arched room dividers, and coffered ceilings.
Holy crap. This place is beautiful. Wide-plank floors, a stainless-steel kitchen, and a living room in charcoal and cream. The far wall is floor-to-ceiling windows framing Manhattan, the glow of the city’s breathtaking skyline bleeding through thick glass.
I step that way, breath hitching.
Cormac shrugs out of his jacket by the hallway closet, slow like he’s bracing himself. “Ground rules,” he says, voice gravel. “Before anything else.”
I nod, even though my pulse is too loud to hear much of anything.
He gestures toward the far hallway past the living room. I see three doors, but only one is open.
“That one.” He points to the middle door. “You don’t go in. Ever.”
My throat works around a swallow. “Okay.”
He moves on, bringing me with him. “This is my office. It will have class details. Do I need to keep it locked?”
A strange ache tugs at my ribs. “No.”
“Good. Then let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
He turns and pushes open what looks like the apartment’s primary bedroom. It’s gorgeous with navy accents, dark furniture, and all clean lines.
“You’ll sleep here,” he says, pointing to a king bed. “With me.”
My heartbeat kicks painfully behind my ribs. “Wait…”
“There’s no other available bedroom.” He opens a door to an empty walk-in closet. “This closet will be yours.”
I blink. “That thing is bigger than the apartment I just got kicked out of.” I gawk at the vacant shelves and racks. “Maybe I should just sleep in here. Got an air mattress?”
Cormac doesn’t look amused. “Your father thinks we’re pretending, but I intend to make this look real, so he’ll hire me under his arcane rules.”
“Right,” I whisper. “We pretend when the right people are watching. And then go back to being roommates with rings behind closed doors?”
“When I stop controlling myself around you,” he says low, “roommates will be the last thing we are.”
“Okay…” My breath stutters. “I can sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His face twitches at the suggestion. “Your head is not touching anything in this apartment except the pillows on this bed. Understood?”
I love the possessiveness threading through his tone. It’s dark and sexy as hell. “So, I can’t nap out in the living room?”
“You know what I mean, brat.”
Brat… I like it when he calls me that.
“What’s in here?” I open another closet and see it filled with men’s clothes. His clothes.
Then the scent hits me. Cedar, cotton, and spicy cologne.
I drift inside to the center dresser and run my fingers on the stone top. Two expensive watches dangle from a velvet holder. On a silver tray, there are stacks of cash and… A gun.
The room tilts, and my knees wobble. I have to get out of here from the sensory overload. I back away and then face the king-size bed with a black down comforter and black sheets.
I sit on the end of the bed and finger the top cover. “Your bed is comfortable.”
“It’s our bed now.”
“I won’t be a distraction?” I ask quietly and lie back. “You can sleep in the same bed with me and not touch me?
He huffs a quiet, broken laugh. “You’re the biggest distraction I’ve ever had. But I’ve gotten used to avoiding things I want that I shouldn’t.”
“Putting me on my knees excluded?” I tease.
“The stakes are higher now, Scarlett. No touching. Either of us.” His jaw tightens.
“Why can’t we just enjoy ourselves?” I ask, feeling everything around me float.
“Things have changed.” His tone is stripped of any emotion. “As soon as you were cornered and you needed me, this became the best temporary fix for both our situations.”
I glance around and have to accept this is my new reality.
“How long?” My voice is small, humiliatingly so. “How long do you need me to be your wife?”
His pupils darken, swallowing the green.
“At least until I sign an iron-clad employment contract at the end of this semester. I’ll pay off your tuition, give you a roof over your head, clothes, food, healthcare, and a spending allowance.
I’ll give you everything you need. Anything you want.
Even a divorce settlement that will get you through your graduation and into your residency. ”
The word divorce lands with surgical precision. Ouch doesn’t even cover it.
“Okay.” Heat flushes up my neck, and I force myself to nod. “Then what about my father? What happens when you divorce the dean’s daughter? How will that land?”
Cormac’s smile builds slowly and looks cold. “You let me worry about how I deal with your father.”
A shiver breaks over my spine. “Does that include that I may not have a father?”
He frowns. “Of course not. Smart people like your father eventually make smart decisions.”
Either way, we’re both fucked. We’re trauma bonding. Clinging to the wreckage together in the storm. Jumping off the ledge holding hands.
That’s when it hits me. I’ve sold my soul to this man who’s connected to the mob.
A wave of nausea hits, and I wobble. “Oh, shit.”
I bolt into the bathroom and barely make it before I’m sick in the toilet. The tile is cold under my palms. My stomach twists, bile and adrenalin burning my throat.
“Scarlett, baby.” Cormac’s voice comes from behind me, low but sharp with concern.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Go away.”
“I’m not leaving you sick on the bathroom floor,” he mutters.
A warm hand gathers my hair. Another one rests lightly between my shoulder blades. I hate how good it feels.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
“No, you’re not.” He rinses a washcloth with cool water and presses it to my neck. “You’re finally reacting like a sane person who was just forced to marry her professor to stay in school.”
My body melts against the touch I’m supposed to avoid. “I’m good. Really.”
“You had a rough day. Get ready for bed. Use the bathroom for however long you need.” He goes to stand.
I catch his wrist. “You won’t…leave, will you?”
His throat bobs. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Okay…” There’s nothing more to say tonight.
After Cormac returns with my toiletry bag from my duffel and closes the door, I stare at myself in the mirror. This day has to end, because this was the day I almost lost it all.
But I gained a husband. Cormac saved me.
My fingers tug at my collar, heat buzzing up my neck.
I take longer than I need to. Slowly peeling away clothes to look at the body he doesn’t want. Or wants but won’t touch.
He wants distance. Rules. Lines we won’t cross. Which only makes me want to cross every damn one. He thinks he cornered me and won’t take advantage of me. I can’t think about how to unravel that flawed philosophy of his right now.
I shower to get the sweat off me from the mad dash to move out of an apartment in five minutes. The steam and scalding water don’t wash away how low and defeated I feel. How Pierce tried to ruin me. Again.
When I step back into the bedroom wrapped in nothing but a towel, Cormac is setting up a worktable for me in the corner. My books are already piled next to my laptop. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and dark-framed glasses I’ve never seen on him.
I glance around. “Where are my clothes?”
His eyes drag over me. “In the closet. You can change in there. I’ll change in mine.”
The way his sweatpants sit very low on his hips, I’m thinking he sleeps commando.
In the closet, when I step near the center dresser and shelves this time, soft lights come on. Today would have been the happiest day of my life if I had married and moved in with a boyfriend I loved. Who loved me.
Even with a nice closet, this all feels wrong, but I don’t have a choice. I put the duffel on the dresser and just pull out a nightgown. Stripping feels weird behind a door since Cormac has seen me naked. But I have to respect his conditions.
Dressed in the thin gown, I step out and find him sitting up on his side of the bed.
His eyes feel like X-rays that see under the gown.
“We just go to sleep?” I whisper, looking at the bed. “Like everything here is normal?”
“Yes.” His jaw tightens. “This isn’t real, Scarlett. You were cornered into this. You had a chance to marry me of your own free will, but you didn’t.”
I think about that. This doesn’t feel that way. But I guess that’s exactly what happened.
“But what if…” I try to argue.
“Go to sleep.” He leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Please.”
He smells so good. But I need to wind down, and he won’t help with that.
Sighing, I grab my latest romance hand-me-down from my purse on the floor and open it to where I left off. Waving it, I say, “I’m going to read for a while.”
After a minute, I feel Cormac staring at me across the bed.
“I can download the audiobook, and we can listen to it together,” I suggest.
He just stares at me, knowing that won’t end well for him. “No thanks. Keep reading.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’ve been inside you. I do know.”
This is going to be an interesting marriage.