Page 26 of Claiming Genevieve

“I did say I wanted you, lass.”

I swallow hard. “Once,” I manage. “The wedding night. That’s all. And then?—”

Rowan’s gaze darkens. “That might require some negotiating, lass,” he says, his voice thick. “I’m not sure one night with you would be enough.”

Heat blooms through me at that, at the look in his eyes, and that same raw need in his voice. I’ve never known what it feels like to have someone want me so much that they seem desperate to have me, and something tells me that it could become intoxicating. That it could consume me, if I’m not careful.

“We could… negotiate that,” I manage, my voice trembling slightly. “But?—”

“So you’re saying yes?” Rowan’s gaze holds mine, and another shiver runs through me. I shake my head sharply.

“I need to think,” I manage to say. “I need some time to think. This is—I don’t know what to say.” I swallow hard, looking out at the view of the city as I try to wrap my head around it. But to my confusion and a little bit of alarm, a part of me feels like I should consider his offer.How different is it, really, from what Chris offered me,I can’t help but think. Marriage is different, of course—but Rowan is saying there will be an end date. A point at which the business deal between us is concluded, and we can both go our separate ways.

“Just… give me time,” I repeat, and I see a flicker of what I think is disappointment on his face, but it clears quickly. He nods.

“Of course,milseán,” he says quietly. “I’m happy to give you time. You can stay here, if you like?—”

I shake my head immediately. “Absolutely not.” I know to the very depth of my bones that that’s a bad idea. A single night alone with him, here in his home… and I’d be tempted beyond words to allow things that I shouldn’t begin to let myself think about.

“I’m going to call Dahlia,” I say quickly, before realizing that I don’t have my phone. “Shit,” I mutter with real feeling. “I don’t have my phone. I don’t haveanyof my things.”

“I’ll have Rory watch the penthouse. When Chris leaves next, I’ll have him go and get your things. Until then, just rest, aye?” Rowan runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you some space.”

He does exactly that, bringing me water and some Tylenol before retreating to somewhere else in the quiet penthouse. I sit on the couch, still half-stunned, feeling as if it’s been days since I woke up this morning.

Rowan Gallagher wants me to marry him.It feels insane, and yet?—

There’s the possibility that it could, like he said, give me what I need.

—

“He saidwhat?”

Dahlia is staring at me from her perch on the green velvet chaise in her living room, her eyes wide. Evelyn is sitting across from us, her brow drawn down in a crease as she looks between the two of us.

“He asked me to marry him.” I bite my lip. “His father is dying, he said, and he wants Rowan to marry?—”

“That part I can verify is true,” Evelyn chimes in. “Not the part about marrying. I don’t know anything about what Rowan’s father wants regarding that,” she says with a small laugh, seeing the expression on my face. “But the part about his father. Dimitri has talked about it, about the shift of power that’s coming, when Padraigh dies.” She frowns. “The heads of the families, from what I know, aren’t pleased with Rowan taking over.”

“Why?” I blurt out curiously. Evelyn’s frown deepens.

“He’s young,” she says slowly. “Of course, Dimitri doesn’t have a leg to stand on there—he’s younger than the other heads of the families as well. But Rowan is—” she takes a slow breath. “From what Dimitri says, he’s reckless. A playboy who doesn’t understand responsibility.” She looks at me. “Not necessarily a good husband.”

“He’s offering a business arrangement.” I twist my fingers together in my lap. “From what he said, anyway.” I look at Evelyn, and it hits me then that I can’t tell her everything. I can’t tell her that Rowan is offering me more than just a business arrangement—he’s offering me a solution to our problems via a temporary marriage. I don’t know much about how the mafia families do things, but I suspect that knowing that our marriage would have an expiration date wouldn’t do much to endear Rowan to the other bosses. And if I tell Evelyn, she’ll be put in the awkward situation of either keeping my secrets or keeping secrets from her husband that might affect his business.

A playboy husband. Keeping secrets from my friends. There are red flags waving right in front of me—but I can’t stop thinking about what Rowan offered me, either. A fresh start, afterwards. The ability to rewrite my life into whatever I want it to be, even if I don’t know what that is yet.

Nothing can salve the wound of having lost everything I’ve worked for all of my life. But the ability to start anew once I’m healed, without the stress and worry of a dwindling bank account, would certainly make it easier.

Dahlia and Evelyn glance at each other, and I try to organize my thoughts into something that makes sense. It’s been twenty-four hours since Rowan ‘proposed’ to me, and I still feel like I’m reeling from everything that’s happened.

After our conversation yesterday, Rowan almost immediately sent Rory, his driver, to ‘stake out’ Chris’s apartment. I gave Rory my key, and he went to wait for Chris to leave the penthouse.

It was evening before I got my things back—or some of them, at least. I gave Rory a list of what I needed most, and Rowan promised me that we’d figure out how to get everything else—although I’m still not sure that Chris might not throw out the rest of my things once he realizes that I’m not coming back. Once I had my cell phone, it was, as expected, blowing up with texts and calls from Chris.

Chris:What the hell, Genevieve? That Irish asshole knocks me out and you just fucking leave???

Chris:What a fucking ungrateful bitch.

---