Page 3 of Forbidden Bastard
The curve of his cheeks showed off a dimple, no…two. He was like a handsome Roman gladiator of old. “Agree to marry a bunny?”
A joke. Great. Soon he’d laughather, and he had no idea how that had been the story of her life.
She'd wanted to make good choices, but her last boyfriend decided work was more important than her. Of course he was a doctor who saved people so that was probably the right choice.
“Yes.”
Charles sat in his chair like a natural-born king, which made sense with the title he’d just mentioned. He said, “I didn’t know you were a bunny.”
In his posh French-like accent, at least jokes about her sounded funnier. Perhaps it was the dry delivery, but either way she relaxed her shoulders, just a bit, and asked, “And?”
He scooted closer and their legs barely touched but a spark rushed in her veins. “And… having an American wife means that customers trust me more so I can take over the US market.”
Yet no one she knew actually looked up who owned what product they bought. Everything was digital, and at most they checked reviews. If it was food, and supposed to be organic, most talked to friends for recommendations. He wanted an American wife to help him sell his products? “That’s it?”
“Pretty much.” He nodded like what he said made sense when itsodidn't.
Because of how he made her feel, though she wouldn't act on it, she’d offer him some free advice. She reached for his hands, but dropped them fast the moment the charge hit her. “Look, the consumer really only cares if they like your product, and the price…I’m not the best at making business decisions.”
He took her hands like her dropping his was an accident to be fixed. “My market research says otherwise.”
Did he not feel the sparks? Seriously? Her entire body was alive and she squirmed on her chair. “Well, you know you best. You're from Avce, yet you speak English with just a slight French accent--how come?”
“I went to school in Paris.” He let her hands go.
The loss of his touch was like she'd been taken off an IV and now had to fend for herself. She caressed her hand as if she might recreate that sense of him. “Of course you did.”
His brown eyes seemed warmer as he inched his chair closer. “Now can I go to dinner?”
She shook her head. Her face heated and it wasn’t from his good looks or her own stupidity of how she'd handled today. For five years now her parents had been making adjustments to their lifestyle so that no one knew anything was off with their finances.
Her mother stopped upgrading the car. Her father started fixing things around the mansion himself like he knew how to sparkle a wall. The fact she knew that the word "sparkle" did not mean glitter for paint meant she'd pitched in.
But she had limits. Like, marriage.
Them gifting her a vacation to Paris should have been a clue that they were up to something. She sighed and decided it was time to tell Charles the truth. “I can’t let you cancel the deal with my parents.”
His eyes widened but he pressed his hand on her palm, igniting her from the inside. “I told youmyneed, and time is of the essence. I turn thirty-one soon and according to the rules of my country, I must find a bride or forfeit my inheritance…Normally, the law is by age thirty, but since I just discovered my bloodline, I've been granted an extension.”
Sandi couldn't ruin her parents' business plans, but she refused to simply sell her life to the highest bidder.
She traced his thumb. “How about this… I’ll find you an acceptable alternative to me, someone who wants to marry a noble lord and trillionaire, in exchange for you keeping the contract? This way we all get what we want.”
He scooted closer and for a brief second she thought he’d pull her on his lap and kiss her senseless.
But only men in movies, proving their love to the heroine, did that.
If not love, then sex, because the lady was a beautiful creature and irresistible.
Charles wasn’t in love, or lust, with her…so he didn’t grab, touch, or taste her. He just barely touched her fingers as he said, “I have a business to run and don’t have time for dating--I want to be married in thirty days.”
“Then my deal is perfect for you.” She would hopefully find him someone he’d like to lose control with as he seemed altogether too intense.
Actually finding a guy who wanted to lose control with her would be good for her too.
Anything other than the boring, backyard neighborhood barbecues where every week someone else she knew announced their engagement and bought their own starter homes, while she still lived in her parents' house, in the same room she’d had since birth.
He stood and she offered to shake his hand though he said, “It sounds like a waste of time.”
