3. Tori #2
“Not that I’m disappointed,” I rushed on, feeling my cheeks flush.
“I mean, you’re actually a very nice birthday present.
” I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Wow. I am not trying to say that you are an object—though I mean, you are kind of a gift because you’re so nice to look at, but it’s more appreciation than objectification and this whole thing is just kind of weird on the whole because who does arranged marriages anymore, you know? ”
I was out of breath. He quirked an eyebrow.
“You think I’m good looking?” he asked, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how handsome they were.
I nodded. This time I was pretty sure I was bright red. Not a flattering blush at all.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a boyfriend already,” he said. “Your father told me you don’t even date.”
I held my tongue, not wanting to get on the subject of my lack of experience when it came to men. “I’ve been trying to focus on my education,” I said, which was at least half of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve discovered that most guys don’t appreciate my nonstop word vomit.”
Way to stop while you’re ahead, I chided myself.
But Stefan only laughed. “You’re funny.”
He moved closer, adjusting the lapels of his jacket around my neck. My breath caught in my throat.
“And beautiful.” He reached toward me and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, gazing into my eyes. “And much more intelligent than anyone gives you credit for.”
And that’s when I knew I could have sex with this man. It would be good between us, I was sure of it. It would be really good.
“This whole thing is happening very fast,” Stefan went on, stepping back. “But it doesn’t have to be forever. All our fathers want is for us to marry. Once that’s out of the way, we can do what we want. Make our own terms. What do you want out of this arrangement?”
“A degree,” I blurted.
Stefan raised that eyebrow again.
“I’ve already been accepted to UChicago to study linguistics,” I said. “I want to get my masters, maybe even a doctorate. But my scholarship won’t cover the whole tuition. If we’re married, maybe...” My voice trailed off hopefully. “I mean, I would pay you back. It might take awhile, but—”
“Your father isn’t supporting you with this?” he interrupted.
“No.” My smile was bitter. “I did try to talk him into letting me borrow the money…I even had his assistant put me on the calendar—scheduled an appointment with my own father—and went in with a loan agreement and a PowerPoint, totally thinking I had it in the bag.”
“What happened?”
“He told me the program is a waste of my time and his money. And that men aren’t interested in women with snobby degrees.”
“Tori.”
“God, I’m sorry. We just met. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. I just—it’s my dream.” My voice got husky on the last word, and I had to look away.
He turned my face back toward him, searching my eyes.
“There is nothing in this life,” he finally said, his voice deep and measured, “that is more important than forging your own path. Making your own choices. You have to live for you, not for your father.” His expression hardened.
“Not everyone has the freedom or the privilege to do that.”
“How can you say that?” I scoffed. “Are you living for you? Our fathers are the ones who arranged this…whole thing. A marriage that’s going to dictate the rest of our lives. How can you call that your own path?”
He shrugged. “I’m getting exactly what I want out of this.”
“And what is that?” I asked.
Something inside Stefan shifted. It was almost as if I could see a door shutting, keeping me out, and with that I realized there was more to him than just the charming, smiling, flirtatious charade. What was I getting myself into?
“You’re going to that school,” he said. “I’ll call their finance office on Monday.”
My heart soared, but I wasn’t so easily distracted.
“Tell me why you’re agreeing to this match. Please. I already shared my reasons,” I pointed out. “Before we’re in too deep, I just need to understand your side.”
Stefan didn’t say anything for a long moment, staring out into the cool, fragrant darkness surrounding the house. It seemed like he was warring with himself, unsure what to tell me. Or how much to reveal. Finally, he nodded.
“I want to take over KZM,” he said. “I’m my father’s right-hand, but he still runs the agency. He’ll retire at some point, but he won’t give me the company if I’m not married.” He gave me a half-smile. “He’s old school that way. Doesn’t trust someone who isn’t settled down.”
I felt a kinship with Stefan in that moment. There had to be more to the story, things he wasn’t willing to tell me yet. But it was enough for now. After all, we were both using this marriage to break free from our fathers’ control, to get what we wanted. It made sense.
Stefan took my hands in his. They were warm, his grip strong and certain.
“Marry me,” he said, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “We’ll make our own lives. Our own choices.”
It was tempting. So very tempting.
He reached into the pocket of the jacket wrapped around my shoulders and pulled out a turquoise ring box. I hadn’t even realized it was there. When he opened it, a massive princess cut diamond ring sparkled in the light coming from inside.
This night just wouldn’t stop leaving me speechless.
“Your father said you wouldn’t wear anything over five carats,” Stefan said. “But I can get you something different if you—”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, finally letting out the breath I’d been holding. I shook my head. “I just can’t believe this is really happening.”
“So—is it a deal?” Stefan asked.
I looked at the box, and then at him.
This wasn’t what I’d wanted out of my life. I’d planned to get out from under my father’s thumb, not let myself be trapped even tighter beneath it. I had dreamed of being rescued—but I wanted to rescue myself. Maybe I still could.
“It’s a deal,” I said.
With a smile, he took out the ring and slid it onto my finger. It was heavier than I expected, the stone spanning the width of my finger. But it felt good. It felt…secure.
“The first thing you should know if you’re going to be my wife,” he said, his voice dropping low as he leaned toward me, “is that I take what I want.”
Before I could respond, he cupped my face in his hands and drew my mouth to his. The moment our lips touched, everything else seemed to fade away.
I gave myself up to him completely, following his lead as he deepened the kiss, coaxing my mouth open, stroking his tongue slowly against mine until I could barely stand.
His hands dropped to steady my waist, holding me tight against him, and I moaned softly.
The kiss was electric. I could practically feel sparks bursting between us, and my insides had gone loose and liquid.
None of the furtive kisses I’d shared with boys over the years could hold a candle to this.
Because Stefan was a man. A man who knew how to kiss.
I never wanted it to end, but finally it did.
My heart was pounding as he released me, stepping back, his defenses up again. I couldn’t read the guarded expression in his eyes.
“We should return to the party,” he said, taking my hand—the one now flashing an enormous diamond—and tucking it around his bicep. His firm, muscular bicep.
It wasn’t the birthday present I had been wishing for, but maybe it was better.
As we turned to go back inside, I noticed my father.
He was standing near the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, right within view of Stefan and me.
And he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was the man I had seen Stefan speaking to earlier.
The man I’d assumed was his father. Had they seen the whole thing?
My stomach knotted as I glanced over at my new fiancé. He was looking straight ahead. How much of that had really been for me?
And how much of it had been a performance?