Page 20 of Marry Lies
“What-if I said I could get you in front of anyone you wanted?” She opens and closes her mouth, so I keep pushing. “And what-if I told you that I know of several ethical manufacturing companies who are booked up for years? Perhaps I could make a call for you when you’re ready. You’ll also need to think about publicity—and if we get married, the press will be hot on our tails. I could help you financially—”
“No,” she says quickly. “I don’t want your money.”
But you’ll take money from my father?
“All right.” I lean in a bit so that we’re only inches apart. “No money. But I can help you in other ways. For starters, you can live here for the year and utilize anything you need to get your clothing line up and running.”
My eyes flick up to hers, and I stare into her dark blue irises.
“We both know what we get out of this, Estelle,” I say slowly, my eyes dipping down to her cherry red lips before coming back up to her eyes. Her cheeks flush from the alcohol, though perhaps my slow perusal of her soft, moist lips have more of an effect on her than she wants to admit. “By ourselves, we’ll flounder. But together?” I murmur, my eyes flicking between hers. “We could be formidable together. A power couple. We could both take what we want by the goddamn balls.”
I can smell her perfume that I now recognize as Chanel No. 5. She doesn’t seem like a Chanel No. 5 kind of woman, which only piques my interest further. Why is she wearing it? And why is she so unpredictable?
She huffs a laugh. “Fuck. You make a good argument.”
“Is that a yes?” I ask, not moving from my spot right next to her.
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I’m asking you to consider it.”
“Only if you promise me one thing,” she counters, finishing her second drink in one large gulp.
“Anything.”
“You have to let me redecorate the castle,” she says, looking at me with a sly smile.
Her request takes me by surprise. “Which part?”
“All of it.”
She sits up straighter and gives me her signature smile—the same one that makes everyone glance her way. The one that makes me grip the island a little too hard. I don’t think she realizes just how fucking bright her energy is—how she’s like the sun, in a way. Beaming. radiant.
She’s impossible to look away from.
“No offense, but it looks like an assisted living center.” My eyebrows shoot up as she continues. “Don’t get me wrong—the building is stunning. But I think you need some color in your life, Miles.”
My lips twitch with the threat of a smile. “Oh?”
“That ceiling in the foyer? It’s gorgeous. Itshould be enhanced with some oranges, royal blues, a nice Persian rug—some throw pillows, perhaps. I mean, there are other colors other than beige and gray.”
The audacity…
“Fine. You can redecorate.”
She grins, andfuck meshe’s gorgeous when she smiles like that.
“Wonderful. It’s a deal.” Before I can ask if she means it, she claps her hands and looks over at her luggage. “We should also set some ground rules—”
I hear the clacking of heels coming from behind Estelle, and I internally groan.
“Ms. Deveraux, so lovely to meet you,” Luna says, walking over to us and pulling Estelle into a tight hug. I glare at Luna as she pulls away, but she just winks at me before turning back to Estelle. “I hope Mr. Ravage hasn’t been too grouchy with you. I’ll have Louis bring your things up to the North Wing?” It’s a question, and I realize all too quickly that she’s waiting for me to confirm.
I shake my head. “No. Please bring them to the South Executive Suite.” Her eyes go wide, so I clarify. “Ms. Deveraux and I are engaged,” I explain. “It only makes sense for myfiancéeto stay with me.”
Luna looks between us with wide eyes. “Engaged?”
I nod, clenching my jaw and pleading with Luna to go along with it. “Yes. Very recently. It happened quickly,” I explain.
