Page 21 of Bride on the Dotted Line

Sienna

I’m frozen in my seat, staring back at Nick like he just sprouted a second head. Did those words really come out of his mouth?

Marry me.

The rich taste of the wine goes ashen on my tongue. This has to be a ploy to see how desperate for money my family is. A prank, maybe. But why? I know the Harwoods are out of touch with people like me, but how could Nick be thiscallous? I thought he was better than that.

“Marry you? Have you lost your mind?”

Nick leans closer, speaking quietly so the people sitting at the tables next to us can’t eavesdrop. “Hear me out. You and I would make the perfect team for something like this. Together, we’d be just the people my father and his board are looking for. We’re both smart and have a good understanding of what’s going on with the company—how serious it is. I’m sure we can play the part.”

My mouth falls open.Play the part?Like, acting? None of the thoughts in my head are making sense.

“We’d all have a win in this, Sienna. Dad can hand over the company peacefully, shareholders get the image they want and begin to reinvest, I secure the CEO role my mom wanted for me … and you secure enough money to consider your father’s past a small issue.”

Every time he talks about my father, I wince. It’s already hard enough to process this information without feeling like I’m being blackmailed. What Nick is saying doesn’t soundlike blackmail, though. In fact,he’sthe one that seems nervous, like he really needs me to say yes to his offer.

Who the hell is Nick Harwood? Beyond what I’ve read about him, our texts, and our three meetings, is there one real thing I know about this man?

“I don’t understand,” I tell him. I came here tonight thinking I could use our professional flirtationship to Lena, Mason, and I’s advantage. Now I’m not sure my instincts about him were right after all.

He may look like a Disney prince with his suit and his eyes and his burnished brass hair, but what if he’s not?

Nick runs a hand over his jaw. “I know you might be worried about the logistics, but I assure you, everything will be above board. We’re two adults that want different things. A marriage could be our ticket—and if we treat it like a business agreement, there will be no need to worry.”

I look at him—his loosened tie, the anxious curve of his mouth, his earnest expression—and it finally clicks.

He wants me to marry him as part of his PR stunt. To speed up the timeline; to make sure he’s prepared for the charity gala.

And he’s willing to pay me more money than I’ve ever seen in my life to do it.

“Once the company’s been handed over,” he continues, “we’ll get a divorce, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

But it can’t be that simple. None of this can.

“I’m … um …” The restaurant is closing in around me. Heat creeps up my neck, and my dress is pinching me in all the wrong places—except where the thought of Nick, of marrying Nick, makes my skin suddenly hypersensitive. I don’t know how to respond to him; I just know I need to get out of here.

Rising to my feet, I pick up my purse. Nick follows my movements. I can tell he’s struggling not to react.

“Excuse me,” I say, “but I think I’m going to leave.”

He reaches across the table, and I’m forced to scan up the built length of his arm to his dark, beautiful eyes. They’re mesmerizing. They’retrouble.

“Let me call you a driver, at least.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine on my own.”

And before he can say another word to convince me otherwise, I’ve spun on my heel and am heading for the door.

Later, my fingers find my phone next to me in bed. The room is pitch-black, dark enough to make my eyes feel closed when they’re open.

2:14 AM.

I’ve been lying here awake for four hours.

Marry me.

Those words, in Nick’s voice. I can’t decipher the emotions rolling through me. I’m enraged—angry enough to spit fire—but I feel sorry for myself, too. I’ve never dated a man who wanted to get married. Sure, I’ve never dated a man I particularlyliked, either, but my dream was to have the first man who said those words to me, be the last.

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