Chapter 4
SILAS
Ophelia’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. She opens her mouth, closes it again, then shifts her position to sit at the edge of the bed facing me.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me. You can’t marry that bastard if you’re already married to me.” Saying it again gives the idea legs. It’s the only way to keep her safe from them. I have no doubt if they could get their hands on her, they’d do exactly what I will do tomorrow morning.
But if I’m being honest, keeping her from the Foxes is not my only motivation.
I’ve known Ophelia a long time. Well, it’s not so much that I’ve known her, but I’ve watched her grow up.
When she was a kid, I felt protective of her.
I still do feel very protective, but that’s shifted as she’s grown into a woman.
That sense to protect has morphed into something else, something darker, baser, and more carnal.
I want her. I’ve wanted her for a long time, and not because she was Ethan’s. My reason is much simpler. Ophelia is for me. In some sense, I’ve known it for a long time, but never like I do now. Never so clearly.
“That’s ridiculous,” she finally says.
“How so? It’s sound logic.”
“Sound logic? I’m not getting married for sound logic.”
I study her. She looks so small sitting there in that ill-fitting nightie, her hair wild, her glasses big on her face.
She’s perfect. Fucking perfect. I set my hands on top of hers and crouch to a squat in front of her, so she looks down at me for a change.
She’s clearly surprised by the move and tries to pull away, but I don’t let her, and she doesn’t struggle.
Instead, she turns her pretty, honey-colored eyes to mine.
“I told you once I will always come for you. This is me coming for you, O.”
She bites her lip, looks down at our hands. A tear drops onto the back of mine.
“I won’t leave you at the mercy of those bastards. Never again.”
“I wish I could just go home,” she says quietly.
“Where is home? I don’t know that you’ve had a home for the last three years. And you’ve been their puppet for longer than that.”
“Am I your puppet now?” she asks.
I take this in stride, shift my gaze to our hands and turn hers so we’re palm to palm.
“You are not that. You could never be that to me.”
When I look up, I find her watching me, her eyes so sad. She’s hurt and she’s scared. Her world has fallen down around her. Hell, it’s turned to ash. Literally.
I have failed her before. I walked away from her when she needed me before, and that time, I hadn’t been dragged away.
I’d chosen it. She may not be able to accept what I am proposing, but I know she must acquiesce.
It’s the only way. I know for a fact the Foxes aren’t going to give her up. They need her.
Without her, they will lose everything to me because that loan I made to Sly will come due, and the only way he’ll be able to pay it back will be with Carlisle-Bent’s money.
This makes them desperate—and desperate is dangerous because I do believe they are capable of violence worse than they’ve already shown.
Ophelia may not like me very much for what I will do next. She may hate me for it, but I can live with that. I’ll have to. For her.
She slips her hands free of mine and gets up. I straighten, follow her to the window. She keeps her back to me, taking it all in. She’s not getting out of here, not without me. I let her see it. Let her understand it for herself. There is no way out of here, no way out of this.
“If I agree, what happens after?” she asks, her breath fogging up the window. I look out, too. All you can see from this window of the cottage is the dim glow of the lamp Emiliano leaves burning in the chapel twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
“Once we’re married, I’ll take you to my house in Atlanta. You’ll stay there until I’m able to join you again.”
She turns to me but doesn’t speak.
“I will go see your father,” I continue. “Understand what happened. Find out the truth.”
“You’ll take me to see my father first. That’s the only way I’ll agree to this.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll be arrested as soon as they figure out who I am.”
She tilts her head, eyebrows furrowed.
“Arson, remember? Not to mention slamming my SUV into Ethan’s limo, that prick. Also, they think I kidnapped you.”
“You did.”
“I want you safe before they get to me. My lawyer is prepared and will get me out as soon as possible, but Sly Fox has some sway, although not so much in Boston as Sinistral.”
“We don’t have a marriage license. We can’t get married without one.”
“Done. I have some sway too.” I pull up the email and show it to her.
She takes the phone to look at it then hands it back to me.
“You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?” She glances back out the window, at the snow that won’t stop falling. “What were you doing at my house the night of the gala?”
Ah. Yes. Of course, she’d ask, but I can’t tell her just yet.
I can’t tell her the man who raised her as his daughter is not her biological father.
I can’t tell her that her mother didn’t drown accidentally, that she committed suicide on Ophelia’s birthday with a note that said she couldn’t stand the sight of her own daughter.
“I remembered something from years ago,” I say, pausing. “You probably don’t remember. You were home from school when Sly sent me over to give your dad an envelope. You let me in and—”
“I remember. I got in trouble later because I barged into dad’s study.”
“He was surprised when you opened the door, that’s for sure. And I saw what he was doing.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“He was hiding something beneath the floorboards and I thought maybe he’d hidden that envelope Sly had me bring over.”
“So you went back to get it?”
I nod.
“Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. Something about how Sly had been that day had stuck with me.”
“Was it there?”
I nod, keeping my gaze steady on hers, knowing I’ll have to lie when she probes, hating to because I don’t want to be just another man who lies to her.
But I have justification for what I will omit.
She can’t hear this, not now, not until I know everything.
Given what she’s been told so far, it will finish her if she hears it now.
“What was in it?” she asks cautiously.
“Newspaper clippings about your dad kidnapping your mom.”
“What?” She shakes her head. “And you didn’t think to tell me when you saw me that night?”
“I hadn’t read them through yet.” A half-lie.
She studies me. Can she see through me? “You told me once I’d only marry for love,” she says, surprising me by changing the subject.
I nod, jaw tight.
“What about you? What will you marry for?”
This is a question I don’t expect and don’t know how to answer. My phone rings in my pocket. It’s Nigella. I recognize her ring tone. I reach in to silence it.
Ophelia doesn’t wait for me to answer. She exhales, then turns her back to me. “There has to be another way.”
I study the exposed skin of her shoulders, remembering how she felt in my arms when she gave herself to me.
When she was mine. I reach up to lift her hair over one shoulder gently and trace the weal left by Ethan’s belt, knowing I’m doing the right thing.
She shudders and when she goes to pull away, I set my hands on the windowsill, trapping her.
“Is it such a terrible idea?” I say, my voice a breath against her ear. Her spine stiffens and the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She turns to face me. I don’t move to give her space. I notice how her nipples press against the faded white of the night gown, see how her pupils have dilated.
“I don’t want you. I did once, but that’s over,” she says.
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
I brush one hardened nipple with the knuckle of my hand. She licks her lips, swallows. I lean closer, brushing my lips over her cheek before whispering in her ear, “Who’s the liar now?”
The phone rings again, breaking into this strangely intimate moment between us.
“Maybe you should get that.”
“It’s fine.” I silence it again. “Tell me, is it such a terrible idea?”
Her gaze moves from my lips back to my eyes.
She narrows hers, brushes my chest with her fingertips, and it’s me who has to swallow now as she slides her hand down over my stomach, my groin.
When my dick responds to her touch, she narrows her eyes.
She wraps her hand around my erection, and when she slides it up and down, something sounding like a growl comes from my chest.
But when, a moment later, she cups my balls and squeezes too fucking hard, I suck in a breath and grip the windowsill.
“O—”
“Like the one-sided agreement about not lying to each other, I’m guessing I don’t have a choice in this marriage either, do I?”
“No, not really,” I say. She squeezes again, and I grit my teeth, close one hand over her wrist. “Take it easy, Ophelia.”
“You won’t touch me, understand?” She twists a little.
My breath is a hiss. “You’ll want me to touch you, trust me.”
“You. Won’t. Touch. Me.” She twists harder, and my vision starts to fade around the edges. “This marriage? This sham marriage? It is on paper only. It’s not real, and you won’t touch me.”
“I won’t be able to do much if you keep this up. Fuck. Fine. Christ.”
She chuckles, lets go of my balls and slips away as I recover myself.
“And when it’s over, we annul the marriage, and I never see you again. That’s the deal.”
When I turn around, I find her seated at the desk writing something on the pad of paper there. “Ophelia—”
“It’s the only way I’ll do this. I’m finished being a pawn.”
“Like I said, you’re not a pawn, not to me.”
She rips the sheet off the pad and brings it over to me along with the pen. “Sign it.”
I take it, read it. It’s a simple contract of sorts confirming that I won’t touch her, and that the marriage will be annulled at a time of her choosing.
“Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
“I’m not sure this would even hold up—”
“Just sign it, Silas.”
“You’re not thinking clearly. You hit your head pretty hard—”
“When you crashed your SUV into the limousine! Sign it or I won’t do it. I’ll take my chances with Ethan.”
I open my mouth to respond, but my phone rings yet again. It’s Nigella’s ring tone and I know she wouldn’t call again unless it’s an emergency.
“Fuck!” I dig my cell out of my pocket. “What is it that cannot fucking wait?” I bark into the phone.
“There was an attack, Silas. An attack in the prison,” Nigella says.
That takes me a minute. “What?” I glance at Ophelia, move a few steps away so she won’t overhear.
“Horatio Hart. He’s in the hospital. He’ll be okay, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll call you back in a minute.” I disconnect, then look at Ophelia. She looks angry and confused, but I don’t think she heard what Nigella just said.
“Fine.” I take the pen from her, lay the sheet against the wall, and sign my name. “It’s fine. I need to go.” I walk to the door.
“That’s it? Just like that, you agree?”
“That’s it.” I open the door, already dialing Nigella. “Just like that, I agree.”
“Good. And to be clear, Silas Cruz,” she starts, something in her tone making me stop. “Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, you’re wrong about me only marrying for love because I don’t love you. I never will.”