Page 30 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
It’s as if the festivities are a million miles away, and I can pretend none of this is actually happening.
Moments later, a footstep crunches behind me. I spin as a man backs up against the limestone wall.
“Ma’am,” he greets, tucking his hands behind his back, his stance neutral, respectful.
I sigh.
My husband has clearly sent a guard to ensure I keep my promises.
So much for getting some alone time.
Trying my best to ignore him, I sip my champagne.
Since the property is on the very outskirts of Houston, I’m secluded, with nothing but night sounds and trees for company.
I get lost in my thoughts, and I enjoy the last drop from my flute.
Fortunately a server approaches with a tray.
Smiling my gratitude, I swap my empty glass for a full one.
Before I can lift it, Dorian plucks the drink from my hand. “Not so fast, little one.”
I frown. “But?—”
“We have a honeymoon to get started.”
My pulse kicks. My stomach knots.
I take a slow breath and meet his eyes. “About that.”
Silence pulses between us expectantly.
“There’s a problem.”
“Is there?” He seems totally unconcerned, as if he’s been prepared for me to have a million objections to leaving with him.
The guard quietly walks away, leaving us totally alone.
“Is this normal?” I ask. “Being watched?” I clarify.
“I don’t like to take unnecessary risks,” he replies.
His nonanswer tells me everything.
Billionaires. Mafia. Gamblers. Criminals. Just how dangerous is the world I’ve married into?
More importantly, how will I survive it?
And him.
Despite everything, I am dangerously—no doubt stupidly—drawn to the man I married.
“A problem?” he repeats when I don’t speak again.
Then he confirms my earlier suspicions.
“If you’re hoping that anything you say will get in the way of our honeymoon, you’re wrong.”
