Page 159 of Bride By Initiation

She huffs. "Aw. Just give me a little hint?"

I chuckle and add, "I think you'll like it."

She pouts. "That's not giving me a hint."

"Sorry. That's all you're getting," I declare, then kiss her hand.

My driver goes several blocks and pulls up to a building that's bustling with activity. There's a coffee shop, several boutiques, and a restaurant on the ground level.

She teases, "Aw, you're taking me to my favorite coffee shop and then on a shopping spree? That's sweet of you!"

"Nope!" I shake my head, grinning, and exit the car. I reach inside for her and help her out, taunting, "Guess again, my little brat."

She gushes, "Don't get me all hot and bothered before work."

I grunt, the space near my zipper getting tighter. I lead her past the coffee shop and into the residential lobby.

She asks, "What are we doing here?"

I nod at security. Casey motions for us to pass him, greeting, "Good morning, Mr. O'Malley."

"Morning, Casey."

"Is this Mrs. O'Malley?"

"It is," I reply, puffing my chest out. The pride I have that Zara's my wife grows daily.

Casey offers, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. O'Malley."

"You too," she replies, giving me a questioning look.

I push the button for the elevator, then lean closer to her. "When are you taking care of officially changing your name?"

Surprised, she arches her eyebrows.

I've never said anything to her about it. I've been waiting for her to do it, but now I'm growing impatient. It's time for her to take her rightful name—myname.

The elevator dings, and the doors open. People step out.

I lead her inside, press my hand on the pad, and the doors shut. I add, "You didn't think I would let you keep your maiden name, did you?"

She scoffs. "Allow me?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have the authority to give me permission," she claims.

"Like hell, I don't."

"Like hell, you do," she argues.

The elevator stops, and the doors open.

I usher her into a brightly lit, beautifully accessorized foyer. Expensive artwork with bright colors hangs on the walls. An intricately carved gold pot contains a light pink cherry blossom tree.

She points at it, asking, "How do they keep that alive in here?"

"The ceiling has indoor grow lights, and they make sure its soil has proper drainage," I tell her.

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