Page 1 of An Inconvenient Marriage
1
Zach
Iitchedwiththeneed to vault across the desk and wrap my hands around the bastard’s neck just so I could watch the life drain from his miserable eyes.
It would be fucking glorious.
And… final.
Yeah, that wouldn’t do.
I didn’t want Trent Stevens to die a quick death. Hell, I didn’t want him to die at all. Or maybe not for a while.
He needed to suffer first.
After I got exactly what I wanted from him.
“So, you want to mergeyour casinoswith my beautiful hotels?” Trent Stevens—owner of Summer Meadows Hotels & Spas—rubbed his hands together gleefully. “We’d be partners then?”
He was so far off it wasn’t even funny, or maybe it was since I was doing such a bang-up job of hiding my true intentions. Not that it was easy. I’d been aching to get this man alone for years.
Keeping my features even, I smoothed a hand down my navy-blue tie. “Of course.” The words came out calm and measured. It was in stark contrast to the furious way in which my blood was rushing through my veins.
Across from me, the silver-haired man bellowed out a loud laugh that reverberated through the sparsely decorated space. My lips didn’t even twitch.
“I like you, de la Fuente.” Trent folded his thick arms on his desk and leaned forward.
I gritted my teeth. The only time it was acceptable for anyone to address me by my last name was when Mr. was used in front of it.
“And seeing as you’re the one who sought me out, I think a little bargaining might be in order, yes?”
The muscle in my jaw ticked faster. “Bargaining?”
“I tell you what, de la Fuente.” Trent stood and walked over to the bar at the far side of the office. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and held it up in question.
I declined with a sharp shake of my head, and he shrugged, pouring himself two fingers’ worth of the amber liquid.
After taking a long swallow from his tumbler, he went back to his desk. “Why not entertain ourselves with a merger of a different kind?”
What the hell was he on about? Luckily, the bastard liked the sound of his own damn voice so much, I didn’t have to ask.
“You see,” he drawled after another swig from his glass. “If we become… partners, our interests would align, no? Which means my bad publicity would, in a sense, become your bad publicity.”
“Sure.”
He nodded, then picked up a frame from his desk and studied it for a few moments before handing it to me. The instant my gaze landed on the person in the photograph, a sour taste filled my mouth.
I’d seen the blue-eyed, blonde bombshell before, or rather I’d read about her many exploits more times than I could count. Pretty sure if you looked up the phrase “self-centered little rich girl,” an image of her would pop up.
The sour taste on my tongue quickly turned bitter. There were few things in life that really got me worked up. But spoiled daddy’s girls who couldn’t be bothered to work for the things they wanted were definitely one of them.
Swallowing the disgust, I set the frame back on Trent’s desk and glared at him. Because why the hell was the man showing me a photo of his promiscuous daughter?
“My daughter, Natalie,” Trent said, as if I needed any clarification. “I’m sure you’ve heard or read about her once or twice, hmm?”
I simply nodded. The man didn’t need to know my exact thoughts on the matter.
“I want you to marry her.”
