Page 112 of Sins of a King
He sighed. “I wish it was. I wish the FBI wasn’t on my tail or trying to intimidate you into helping them, but these are the facts. But this is also a fact: they don’t know of your loyalty or your love for me. They expect you to flip. And I’m protecting you the only way I know how.”
“By marrying me?”
“If, for some reason, I’m indicted, you would be protected from testifying against me.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“It’s not romantic, I know.”
“Romance takes a back seat when the FBI is after you. Not to mention that little matter of a mob boss trying to take you out.”
Flynn took me into his arms. “I wish I could give you romance and the proposal you deserve, but I can’t. Not at the moment. I would still want to marry you—even if we weren’t in this situation. Do you believe me?”
I smiled. “I do.”
“You don’t like flying?” Flynn asked, his hand covering my white-knuckled hand gripping the seat rest.
My eyes were tightly shut, and I focused on my breathing. “Just take off and landing. I usually pop something.”
“We haven’t even begun moving.”
“I’m anticipating,” I said.
“I have champagne chilling so we can toast. But I can have them serve it now.”
“I don’t like champagne.”
“You have to toast an impending marriage with champagne. It’s bad luck otherwise.”
“Let’s wait for thirty-thousand feet.”
I opened my eyes just a tiny bit, enough to see Flynn. Jason and Brad were seated in the rear of the plane, close enough to hear us if we talked at a normal volume. I didn’t want them to eavesdrop, so I kept my voice low when I asked, “We didn’t talk about what happens when all this is over.” The plane began to roll away from the gate and I swallowed, my throat dry.
“You really want to discuss this now?” he asked.
I nodded. “It will help distract me. I’m okay with signing a prenup. I have nothing and you have everything.”
“How business-minded of you.” He smiled. “You’re not so great with the romance either, you know.”
“I’ll woo you later,” I joked. “Should we talk about divorce?”
“Why?” he wondered.
“Because when all this is over, I won’t need to be protected anymore.”
“You think this marriage is a means to protect you for a finite time?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Woman, you are intent on driving me insane, aren’t you?”
“I’m just trying to give you an out,” I attempted to explain.
“I don’t want an out. I already told you I loved you. I already told you I wanted to marry you.”
“So? Love and marriage don’t always have to go hand in hand.”
“It does for us. Or it would’ve. Eventually.”
