Page 49 of Salvaged Hearts

“It will,” I assured, my gut set on that as reality. “The public is enamored with romance. White collar assholes being assholes isn’t really news when they have juicy theories and celebrity pregnancy speculations to sink their teeth into.”

“They’re really sticking to that?”

“Why else would I marry you in a shotgun wedding?” Okay, so my smirk might’ve been a bit devilish. To my eternal amusement, he returned it.

“Okay. So, we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this.”

“The second photo run prints tomorrow.”

“Rumors of our plans release on Wednesday.”

“The jet leaves at nine am on Thursday.”

“By Saturday night, I will—legally speaking—be your wife.”

A dry chuckle shook his shoulders as he smirked. “I’m going to have a wife.”

“That as hard for you to believe as it is for the rest of us?”

“Thought I’d stay single forever out of spite.” Something heavy and vulnerable slithered through his words and had me shifting in my seat. Before I could follow that up, he added, “I think it’s appropriate to keep public appearances in the office professional, but we need to give the media more to buzz about.”

My stomach did a full backflip. Forcing bravado, I said, “Welcome to the fun part. But Greyson…” When he looked up at me, I dipped my chin and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my office.”

“Right. But you’re not supposed to be here until the investigation is over.”

“My fiancé didn’t have a chance to come home while caretaking for her sister,” he said morosely as he rose from his chair to round his desk, “and I needed to see her.” Greyson leaned against the edge of the marble, his gaze softening as it locked on my face. Gingerly, he tucked my hair behind an ear,lips quirking when I sucked down a breath. Concern pinched his brow as he dropped his eyes to his lap before looking at me, more seriously this time. “And something she said has been eating at me.”

Yikes. Where to start?My harsh reminder about his unplanned retirement from the Navy? Callously listing the facts surrounding the deaths of his father and brother with the care of baseball scores?

Hartless or not, my words unleashed in anger had stuck with me all weekend.

“You overheard my uncle in the groom’s suite?”

Oh. That. When my eyes dropped to my hands, where I was peeling at my cuticle, his hand snapped out to gently grip my chin, lifting my eyes to his stony hazels.

“Nothing he said holds even a grain of merit, Alessandra,” he promised, shaking his head. “Not a word.”

My lips parted and then closed. Twice. What could I say to that? “I don’t expect you to defend me to your family, Greyson. This isn’t real.”

“I’m not sure how much you heard?—”

“Enough,” I cut in.

“But I’m unspeakably sorry you had to hear any of that. The man is vile and bitter and hates that despite his position, he holds no real power in my life beyond being an inescapable, insufferable nuisance. You are only his most recent in a long line of targets he knows will cut me the deepest.”

Jerking my chin from his hold, I argued, “You didn’t seem particularly bothered.”

“Because murder is illegal and therefore highly inadvisable with witnesses,” he stated firmly. I breathed a little laugh, wishing he sounded less sincere. “Plus, gratifying his vitriol with an emotional response only gives him what he wants—proof he can still get under my skin. That he has some ounce of control.”

He slipped from the desk to kneel in front of me, big hands coming to cup my face. How does one breathe with their boss on his knees, holding you captive with pained puppy eyes?You don’t.

“But I’m guessing you were smart enough not to subject yourself to more of his venom and left before you heard me dismiss him. He won’t be receiving the wedding details until after we’re home. You deserve better, Alessandra. I’ll see that you have it.”

“We need the family unified,” I stammered, loathing the waver his words put in my voice. Greyson’s brow pinched with something like pain before he smoothed it over.

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