Page 13 of Bound in Matrimony

"I promise I won't leave you." Her arms wrap around me, one hand stroking the back of my neck in a gesture so tender it threatens to unravel me completely. "You're stuck with me now."

I pull back enough to look at her, needing to see her eyes as she speaks. "And if you ever feel the urge to run? If I become too much, if you feel trapped?"

"I'll tell you," she says, her voice gaining strength. "I'll fight with you, I'll demand space if I need it, but I won't disappear. We're in this together now, Knox. You, me, our daughter."

Our daughter. The child growing beneath her heart, the visible proof of what we've created together. My hands drift to the swell of her belly, framing the roundness with possessive care.

"Together," I echo, the word feeling strange on my tongue. I've built my life alone, constructed my empire through solitary will. But Seraphina has changed everything, inserted herself into the fortress of my existence until I can no longer imagine it without her.

"You realize," she says with a small smile, "that promises go both ways."

My eyebrow arches. "Meaning?"

"Meaning you don't get to shut me out. You don't get to make unilateral decisions about our life together without consulting me." Her chin lifts in that defiant gesture that simultaneously infuriates and arouses me. "I'm not leaving you, but I'm not disappearing into you either."

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Even now, on her wedding day, carrying my child, wearing my ring and my name, she challenges me. It's why I chose her. Why I need her.

"Agreed," I say, surprising us both. "Within reason."

She laughs, the sound like a balm to the raw places inside me. "Your definition of 'reason' and mine might differ significantly."

"We'll negotiate." I lower my mouth to hers, swallowing whatever retort she might have made. The kiss deepens rapidly, heat flaring between us as it always does. When I finally release her, we're both breathing hard.

"Fifteen minutes is almost up," she murmurs against my lips.

"They'll wait." I hold her against me for a moment longer, her softness pressed to my hardness, the perfect contradiction that defines us. "I needed this. Needed to hear you promise."

"I know." Her hand comes up to my face, thumb tracing my lower lip with a tenderness that still surprises me. "And I meant it, Knox. I'm not going anywhere."

I capture her wrist, pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing her. The moment of vulnerability passes, and I feel my usual control reasserting itself. But something has shifted between us—a deeper understanding, a contract more binding than the legal one we've just entered.

"Come," I say, offering my arm. "Our guests are waiting."

As she places her hand in the crook of my elbow, the weight of her promise settles into my bones. She won't leave me. Won't run. Won't take my child and disappear. The irrational fear that's haunted me since she first fled begins to recede, replaced by a certainty as solid as the ring on her finger.

Seraphina Vance is mine now. Legally. Publicly. By her own promise.

And God help anyone who tries to change that fact.

Chapter Seven

Knox

Mine.The word pounds through my blood with each heartbeat as I watch her move around our hotel suite. Seraphina Vance. No longer Vale. The change in her name is a transformation I've engineered since the moment I first saw her, though she doesn't know that yet. Doesn't understand the depths of what I've been planning. The white lace of her wedding dress catches the dim light as she slips off her heels, unaware that I'm watching her from the doorway, memorizing every delicate movement. I've conquered companies and crushed competitors without breaking a sweat, but watching my wife—my wife—preparing for our wedding night has me gripping the doorframe hard enough to splinter wood.

The wedding was perfect. Small, exclusive, exactly as I designed it. Her parents, a handful of her closest friends, my executive team who've become something like family. Seraphina looked stunned when she arrived at the botanical garden I'd reserved, decorated with thousands of her favorite flowers. Butnothing compared to watching her walk toward me in that dress, her eyes never leaving mine as she came to take my name.

When she spoke her vows, her voice didn't waver once. I've built an empire on reading people—knowing when they're lying, when they're hiding something—and there wasn't a hint of doubt in her. She meant every word. She promised to be mine forever, and she meant it.

Now she's officially Seraphina Vance, and the predator in me wants to make sure she never forgets it.

"How long are you going to stand there watching me?" She doesn't turn around, but a small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. Always more perceptive than I give her credit for.

"Until I'm done looking." I push off from the doorframe and move into the suite. The Presidential at the St. Regis—not because I couldn't buy us our own island for the night (that comes later), but because I knew she'd appreciate the history, the art, the carefully preserved details that speak to her aesthetic sensibilities.

She turns to face me then, and my breath catches. The sophisticated art director is still there in her posture, in the graceful way she holds herself, but there's something new in her eyes. A certainty. A surrender that's made more powerful because she's chosen it freely.

"And when will that be?" She reaches up to remove a pin from her hair, sending a cascade of honey-blonde waves tumbling over one shoulder.

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