Page 7 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
I guide Isla to the side of the altar, into the shadow of the towering flower arrangements. The cloying scent of roses and lilies does nothing to mask the fear rolling off her.
Up close, the differences between the sisters are even more stark—where Margaux carried herself with calculated poise, Isla is vibrating with barely contained panic.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice threading through the space between us. “Please, go through with this.”
I tilt my head, studying her. This isn’t the reaction I expected. “Where is Margaux?”
A swallow tightens her throat, the delicate line of it drawing my attention. “She ran away.”
I close my eyes for the briefest moment, exhaling sharply. Of course she did. I’m actually not surprised. Last night at the rehearsal dinner, her reactions had been a touch too perfect, her acquiescence too smooth. But I hadn’t expected Judge Davenport to have the audacity to try and slip his younger daughter into her place like a counterfeit bill.
The memory of the day this arrangement was struck rises unbidden. Margaux had stood in her father’s study, the perfect society princess, while Isla lingered in the shadows by the bookshelf.
I remember noting how she flinched each time the judge’s voice rose, how her fingers had worried the spine of whatever leather-bound volume she’d been clutching. Even then, something about her stillness had caught my attention. She had a different kind of strength than her sister’s showy confidence.
“You really want to do this?”
She’s silent, and I see the truth in her eyes, even before she answers with a broken whisper. “No.”
At least in that, she was honest, making me grin.
“But I don’t have a choice.”
When I angle my head, she balls her free hand into a fist and digs her unpolished nails into her skin.
“I don’t know exactly what it is between you and my father, why you…” Her voice catches.
“Go on,” my voice is dangerously quiet.
“Bought my sister.”
She’s brave. Braver than I’d originally given her credit for. I fight a smile and return the volley, not trying to deny her words. “And the babies I intend for us to have.”
The tiny amount of color in her face vanishes, leaving her starkly pale. For a moment, I almost—almost—regret my words.
“Babies?” she manages.
“An heir and a spare.” I shrug. “Maybe more.”
“But—”
“Make no mistake, Isla. Once you sign that marriage certificate, I will expect you to be my wife in every possible way.” I reach out, tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Beginning tonight, with our honeymoon.”
A pulse flutters in her throat, and she wobbles, as if she might tip over.
Her father starts to stand, and Brennan takes a step in his direction. Quickly the man resumes his seat.
Not as stupid as he appears.
Even though I know Isla is being forced to marry me, and a more decent man would let her walk away, I can’t do that.
Suddenly I burn for her, ache to breathe in her light, feminine scent. I want her as my very own.
“I will honor the arrangement with your father and accept you as my bride.” Deliberately I allow my gaze to trail over her face, mapping every feature that I’d previously dismissed as unremarkable. Now I see potential Ihadn’t bothered to look for before. “But I won’t force you.”Maybe.
A shiver rocks her back on her heels, but she doesn’t look away.Interesting.
I ease my fingers down to where her pulse still races beneath my grip, a silent reminder of who holds the power here. “Say it.” My voice is commanding. Starting as I mean to go on.
