Page 15 of Not Mine to Keep

“So no one will report you as having disappeared once school is out,” he said rather bluntly, and knowing how calculating Armani was,thatI believed.

“You broke into my house. Proceeded to hide my weapons. And are asking me to marry you because you owe someone a favor. You realize how this looks? Sounds?” I focused on where he held my wrist, and he cleared his throat and let go of me.

“I’m fully aware, but it doesn’t change the fact it’s the truth. I’m trying to help you. And to be honest, you don’t know me. So you shouldn’t just trust my word. I’d be worried if you did accept everything I was saying as the gospel truth, given I did break into your house tonight.” His forehead did that frustrated-tight thing again. “But I need you to.”

I studied him, taking a few breaths that were pathetically shallow and didn’t relieve the tension in my chest. “Aside from this favor you say you owe, what else do you get from this deal? You don’t need the money. I doubt you want to drag your family name down by marrying into the mafia. So why?”

There went his eyes again. Closed. What was he hiding? “Let’s just say I have my reasons. Thistemporarydeal will help us both, and after, we can go our separate ways. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Since he wasn’t looking at me, I sidestepped him and went back into the living room. I tossed the hand towel onto the armchair he’d previously filled and looked up at the ceiling, trying to digest the indigestible.

“Get some sleep. Think about it. I’ll be back in the morning.”

At his words, I turned to see the gorgeous man in his expensive suit hanging back in the doorway of the hall. I had to assume he had no plans to go out the front door with Armani’s shadows parked somewhere outside.

“I can’t marry you,” I cried out, hating the break in my voice. “When I walk down the aisle, I want it to be to the man I ... love. My forever.”

He casually leaned into the interior doorway, pocketing his hands.

“Don’t you want that, too?”

“I don’t ever want to get married. Period. But I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done? Will that be in your vows?” I was tired. Shocked. And yet, there I was, throwing sarcasm at him. “How in theworld will you even convince Armani you’re the man for me instead of the one he chose?”

“I have a plan.” He straightened in the doorway, as if sensing I was coming around.

I wasn’t. But he didn’t need to know that yet. I was close to getting him to leave me alone, and I didn’t want to give him a reason to stick around. I just wanted to hide in a ball beneath my sheets and cry.

“If Armani is truly dying, does that mean we’d need to be married until he dies in a fewyears?”

He stepped back into the room, shaking his head. “No, he won’t live that long.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ll kill him long before then,” he announced as if sharing a stock tip. Just so matter of fact.

I stumbled back, tripping over the skirt of my dress, and there went another rip. At the feel of air hitting me from behind, I reached around and snatched the material, not needing this man to see me in only my panties. Gotta save something for the wedding night.Ugh, no, not happening.“What do you mean? You’ll commit murder?”

“Is it really murder if he’s a ruthless psychopath?” He peered at me like he was truly expecting me to answer that question with anything other than a yes.

Frazzled, among other things, I murmured, “Won’t that put a target on your head?”

“No, because no one will know it was me.” His lips curved at the edges, and I wasn’t sure if he was on the verge of smiling or frowning. “Unless you want to stay married for years?”

“No!” I shot out, but wait ... I wasn’t considering this, was I? “I can’t marry you. I’m not leaving my life here.” I let go of the dress and waved my hands in the air. “And I’m not running, either.”

“Then what will you do? Because theyaretaking you Monday, whether you want them to or not.”

I whipped around, went to the fireplace, and set my hands on the mantel, trying to breathe, because it was becoming increasingly more difficult. My chest was tight, and the corset part of the dress was squeezing me to death.

“Eat. Get some sleep,” he roughly commanded. “I’ll be back in the morning. I’d suggest you not talk about this to anyone, because if word gets back to Armani, like I said, he won’t wait until Monday.”

I still didn’t understand why in the world this billionaire playboy would help me. Side gig? Really? No, I didn’t believe that.

“I won’t be ready for you tomorrow.” My shoulders fell, and the chill at my back reminded me he was potentially getting a hint of my ass right now, so I snatched the material together and faced him.

His eyes were pointed toward the hardwood as if he’d been respectful, not wanting to preview his bride before the wedding day.

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