Page 7 of Taken

One side of Xavier's mouth quirks up. He leans forward. "What about me?"

"You're..." I flush again as he raises an eyebrow, daring me to go on. "Handsome. And tall. And successful. And probably rich. So why do this for my dad when you can get anyone?"

Xavier sighs. "Time. Sure, we have plenty of family connections, and there are plenty of women who'd be happy to let me court them, but even if I could talk them into an instant wedding, they'd expect we'd stay married after my father passes. The last thing I want is some simpering heiress. You, on the other hand, want out of this just as badly as I do."

I'm not sure why that stings, knowing he wants out of our future marriage as soon as possible, but it does. I feel the same way, so thatreaction makes no sense. "Yes, well, I still think this is barbaric, but it's this or familial ruin for me, so..." I sigh, resting my chin on my folded hands. "What now?"

“Now you get to meet my parents.”

4

XAVIER

My mother and father loved Maria, just as I knew they would, and she played her part perfectly. I could tell she was starting to come to terms with what was about to happen between us, and it was a relief, knowing I wasn't going to have to drag her down the aisle.

This morning, the hired staff is setting up the site of the ceremony down by the water while I watch them from the windows. It's a gorgeous day, sunny with a cool breeze, and my stomach is in knots.

It's almost time to get married.

I tug at the sleeves of my tux, wondering how my bride is handling everything. She refused to have anyone else present for her besides her father, and knowing she's getting ready all on her own makes me feel a hint of unexpected guilt. I'm pulling this woman's family business out of the gutter. I shouldn't feel bad for her, but that hesitation creeps in anyway.

Maybe I should go and see her. It's not like we need to worry about the bad luck of my seeing her in her dress before the ceremony. Every bit of this is a sham.

Restless, I make my way to her guest room and knock once. I can hear her inside, shuffling around, and after a moment, I hear her call, "Come in."

Her tone is watery, so it's no surprise when I open the door and find her dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

That's the only thing that isn't a surprise, though.

Maria is fully dressed for the ceremony, hair done up in an artful pile of curls at the top of her head, makeup applied with expert precision. Her dress fits perfectly, the neckline dipping down just enough to show off the swell of her breasts and the delicate curve of her collarbone. The skirt clings to her hips and then falls loose to the floor, making it look like she's gliding as she turns to face me.

"Hi," she whispers, pressing a hand to her throat. "Um, does everything look okay?"

I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching for her. She's fucking stunning, and my brain can't seem to comprehend that while she is my bride, it's fake. I'm hit with that attraction from the first time I saw her again, but this time the force of it is tenfold.

I want to kiss her perfectly painted mouth.

I want to hike up her pristine white dress and thrust into her until she's screaming my name.

"Xavier?"

I realize I've been silent for too long, and while I don't grab her the way I want, I still come into the room and shut the door behind me. "You look perfect."

She gives me a small, unsure smile, but the wobble of her bottom lip tells me tears aren't far.

"What's wrong?"

It's a stupid question. I'm forcing her into a marriage, into leaving her home and moving into mine, but asking is instinctual. She makes me want to protect her, even if deep down I know I'm the one causing her pain.

"I..." Maria inhales in small, gulping breaths as she tries to hold back her tears. "I think I'm losing my mind, because I'm not upset that this has to happen anymore. Now I'm afraid I'm going to mess this up in front of everyone and disappoint you, and..."

She can't finish, but my chest feels tight, even as I come forward and pull her unceremoniously into my arms. "Hey," I murmur, stroking the back of her hair, "you're not going to mess it up. It's a wedding. Simple. Scripted. No pressure.”

"There is when your dad is dying and he wants you to be happy!" Her voice rises, panic clear as she presses her face against my shoulder. "I'm already letting him down by not being someone you actually care about. I don't want to mess up and make him think you're miserable or disappointed with me. Then all of this will have been for nothing!"

Gently, I lift her chin so she has to look at me. She's wearing some kind of makeup that makes her eyes even bigger and darker, and they look impossibly wide right now. "I wouldn't worry about that. My father adores you."

"He's only met me once."

---