Chapter 29
June
I stare at him in shock. He knows I'm adopted? He knows I’m searching for my birth family? Or, I've been trying to and I haven’t had much luck, so far. “How—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“I had you investigated when you joined as my assistant.”
I remember agreeing to being investigated when I signed the contract with the HR manager.
I wouldn’t have expected someone as high profile and as powerful as him to hire me without vetting me.
But that he knows such intimate details about me feels intrusive.
But it also makes me feel special. Makes me feel like he’s chosen me.
I had his attention, for that amount of time, at least. It doesn’t completely negate the fact that he intruded on something very private.
He must see the conflicting emotions on my features, for he raises his hand. “I realize I overstepped boundaries, but I’m not going to apologize.”
Of course, he's not. “Oh?” I’m not upset he said that, but I definitely am curious why he’d do so.
He nods. “You’re my employee. You’re the one who works closest with me. You see more of me on a daily basis than my family or anyone else in that office. It gives me the right to ensure you’re taken care of.”
I blink slowly. He wants to take care of me? “Is that why you’re coercing me to marry you? The ultimate form of protection, as it were?”
For a moment, he resembles a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Busted. His nod is almost imperceptible as he ignores my question and says, “You should know, the adoption search specialist I enlisted to help you is someone who only takes clients by referral.” He proceeds to name someone I came across during my research.
Someone so expensive, she doesn’t have a website.
I only found out about her through an online forum.
They only knew her by name and had no contact details for her.
“What do you say?” He inclines his head.
He knows the answer to his question. He knows I can’t say no to this. He knows how important it is for me to track down my birth family, and that I need help doing that.
I tuck my elbows into my side. Yes, I need the money.
Yes, it will benefit my family. But I also know Irene would hate it if I sacrificed my future for her comfort.
I get my pride from my ma, after all. Irene went through so much and she never asked anyone for help.
She worked three jobs, at one point, to keep a roof over our heads, and she never complained.
She’d prefer I not have the money to help her than agree for me to get married in return for cash, even if it was the kind of money that would set her and my siblings up for life.
But the fact that Knox knows the most sought-after adoption search specialist in the country tips the scale. She’s someone I’d never be able to approach on my own. If anyone can track down my birth mother, it’s her.
And are you going to sell yourself to locate the woman who gave you up?
My birth mother didn’t value me and, apparently, neither do I.
It’s a difficult thought to stomach. I should probably turn down my boss’ proposal and walk away with my dignity intact...
But this way, my family’s future is secure.
Besides, if this is the only way of tracking down the woman who gave birth to me, if this is the only way to put to rest the question of my origin, which has haunted me my entire life, then it’s worth it, right?
As if reading my mind, he adds, “I’m going to throw my resources behind making sure I fulfill what you want most.”
He’s right about that. And it seems, he paid enough attention to glean what's most important to me... It’s not what I expected.
It shouldn’t mean anything, especially since he’s using this insight as a key negotiating point, but I can’t deny one thing—it makes me feel seen by him.
It makes me feel wanted. Something I’ve only ever gotten from Irene.
Something I’ve struggled with. Something that bouncing between foster-care homes nearly destroyed.
“You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had, June.”
He calls me by my name, and that draws goosebumps over my skin. When I peer into his features, all I see is his sincerity. He means it. He’s complimenting me, and oh my god, I love it. I love it so very much.
“I trust you to have my back.” He takes my hand in his, and I almost swoon. A part of me knows this man is shrewd enough to tell me exactly what I need to hear, so I'll agree to his proposition. But oh my god, if that's what he's doing, it’s working.
He runs his thumb over my wrist, and my pulse rate screeches up.
My thighs tremble, and my belly flutters.
Oh. My. God. I’m not over my boss. I never will be.
And he’s here and asking me to marry him.
So what, if he claims it’s not for real?
Given the chemistry between us, I know it’s not going to stay that way...
for long. He can claim that there won’t be any fucking... But we’ll just see about that.
When I stay silent, his forehead furrows. “I understand this is a lot to take in. I understand if you don’t like what I’m offering. You can always say no.”
But I don’t want to. He’s the first person, other than my adoptive family, who’s given me so much attention. The first man to make me feel important. The first individual I’ve encountered who makes me feel worshipped, while also needing his approval. And that, in turn, reinforces my self-respect.
A confluence of feelings overtakes me. This is my chance to help my family. Regardless of what Irene would tell me, I want to safeguard her and my siblings' future. It’s what I’d have wanted to do, even if I were Irene’s by blood.
“Okay,” I croak.
When his shoulders relax, I realize he wasn't completely sure of my answer. And that slight chink in his self-confidence, that hint of vulnerability convinces me I’m doing the right thing.
“On one condition,” I add.
His body turns to marble. His gaze narrows. “You negotiating with me, July?”
I shiver. I could interpret his nickname as a sign he doesn’t remember my real name, but I know better.
The fact that he has one for me, while no one else ever has, makes it special.
And his explanation for it indicated he’d given it some thought.
Which means, I took up that much more of his mind space.
And that...makes me feel unique. Also, I don’t mean to challenge him; far from it.
“It’s a request.” I peer at him from under my eyelashes. The effect, I hope, is coquettish, and it seems to work, for his gaze widens. He’s not impervious to my nearness, nor to his need for me. The knowledge infuses me with power. I store it away for future use.
“State it then,” he orders.
“I want to choose my wedding dress, and—”
“No.”
“No?” I stare.
His jaw ticks. "I'll choose what you’re going to wear when you become my wife.”
My wife. My heart leaps in my chest. He wants me to dress in the clothes he selects.
When I marry him, I’m going to slide on fabric that he picks out.
When I marry him. I’m going to marry him.
Marry. Him. My clit throbs. My nipples tighten.
Every cell in my body grasps the significance of his words.
My throat goes dry. When I don’t reply— I can’t force a single word out, if I'm being honest—he nods.
“The dress will be waiting for you when you turn up at my apartment, three days from now, for the wedding ceremony.”
Oh my god, that bossy note of his voice threatens to turn my braincells to mush. It’s a wonder I’m able to make any coherent conversation.
“Three days?” I exclaim.
“I’m sure you don’t want to wait to become my wife, but even I need that much time to get the paperwork in order.
” One side of his lips quirk, and I realize he’s making a joke.
Mr. Grumphole, making a joke? It’s a testament to how shaken I am by the prospect of my upcoming nuptials that I don’t take the time to appreciate it.
“It’s...too soon.”
“The faster we get married, the sooner the adoption search specialist can get started on your case,” he points out.
Gosh, he goes for the jugular, doesn’t he?
“Besides, I’d prefer for us to get married so I can present it to Arthur as a fait accompli.”
"You can’t take any chances with losing your inheritance, can you?” I don’t mean for the words to come out in a bitter tone, but they do.
He gives me a searching look but doesn’t refute what I've said. Instead, he nods. “That’s settled then.” He turns to leave, then pauses and glances over his shoulder.
“I’ll arrange for a team to help you move your clothes into my place.
I’ll be traveling over the next few days, so you won’t see me around. ”
Traveling? But I didn’t see any upcoming trips in his diary. Yes, I have access to it. Even though I quit my job, I haven't lost my access to the company system. Yet.
He heads for the door when I call out, “Wait, there's one last thing.”
He glances at me over his shoulder, a look of impatience on his face. I’m keeping him from wherever he needs to be, but I refuse to feel guilty about that. "I want my job back.”
He frowns. “You’re going to be my wife.”
“So?” I pretend not to understand what he’s implying. He can spell out what he wants from me.
He blinks. “So, you don’t need to work.”
I shrug. “I’m getting married, not retiring from the work force."
His frown deepens. I can tell he’s going to say no, so I burst out, “You’re going to be away for the next few days. All the marriage arrangements are being taken care of. I can’t sit at home and do nothing. I'll go crazy.”
He seems undecided.
I move toward him and flutter my eyelashes. “Besides, I’m not yet your wife. Surely, I can work until our wedding?”
“And after—?” he asks slowly.
Goodness, using my feminine wiles actually works with him. I store it away for future reference.