The Rejected Wife: Chapter 33

It fits perfectly.

She stares at the ring on her finger like it’s going to change into a snake and bite her any moment. The ring catches and scatters light. Golden sparks flash in the depths of the stone. It reminds me of the sparkle in her eyes. It’s no coincidence that my grandmother bequeathed this ring to me. Perhaps, she already knew that the woman I’d end up losing my heart to would have eyes resembling the color of autumn leaves kissed by golden sunlight.

“I had it resized for you.”

“Resized?” She tries to pull her hand away, but I hold on. She jerks her chin up, and her gaze clashes with mine. “For… For me? What do you mean?”

“I mean—” I try to get my thoughts in order. ‘ I need a wife, and Serene needs a mother figure in her life. She loves you already. She trusts you. And she fell for you as soon as she saw you.’ Like me. ‘And we already know, we have chemistry…’

“Hold on.” She pulls her hand from mine again.

This time, I release it.

“Is this… Is this…” She seems to be having trouble forming the words. The anger and hurt I glimpsed in her eyes have faded. In their place is confusion. And disorientation. And a healthy dose of disbelief. “Is this what I think it is?” she sputters.

I nod.

“You mean…this…this is…” She swallows. Her eyes bug out. She opens and shuts her mouth, then shakes her head. “No, it can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not. And this is a marriage proposal.” There. It’s finally out in the open.

The color fades from her cheeks, leaving her so pale, I’m worried she’s going to faint. Then, her eyes flash. She leans over the table and slaps at my chest. “You… You… Asshole.”

Electricity zips out from the point of contact. My heart seizes. My cock lengthens. Her touch is fucking everything. I place my hand over hers and hold it there.

“You saw how much of a shock what you were saying was to me, but you didn’t clarify what you meant,” she bursts out.

“Let me explain, I⁠—”

“No, you listen to me. Were you so oblivious to my internal agony? You saw how I was stuttering, how I was making a fool of myself, but you didn’t change the impression you were giving me.”

“You’re right.” I peer into her eyes. “I realized my words were coming out all wrong. I could tell you thought I was talking about someone else⁠—”

“You bet I was.”

“But my emotions were all over the place.” I infuse the urgency I feel, the nervousness gripping my insides—yes, I am nervous—into my words, hoping the rawness I feel will communicate itself to her. “I can’t tell you how much courage it took to force out that proposal. But every time I spoke, my words came out all wrong.”

“Ya think?” She tosses her head.

I draw in another breath, urging my pulse to calm down. Opening myself up this completely to another person is the most vulnerable feeling in the world. But she hasn’t pulled her hand from mine. And she’s still listening to me. So perhaps, I didn’t mess this up completely. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. I was trying my best to correct it, but I only seemed to make it worse. I didn’t mean to upset you in any way, Cilla. You have to believe me.”

“Hmph.” She tips up her chin, but her eyes are clear. And the tension in her features has faded. Thank fuck.

“I am so sorry for making it seem like I was talking about someone else. I only had you in mind. I thought, for sure, you’d realize it was you I was referring to.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” she says primly.

But there’s a small quirk to her lips. My heart rate slows down. Perhaps, there’s hope for me, after all?

I squeeze her fingers one last time before I let go. Then nod toward her cup of tea. “Maybe, have another sip?”

She obliges, taking a sip. Some of the color filters back onto her face.

“So, this is a wedding proposal?” Her voice is stronger, but her tone is cautious. It sparks a melting sensation in my chest.

“It is.” I look into her eyes. “Will you be my wife, Priscilla Whittington?”

“Wow.” Her jaw drops. She stares at me.

For a few seconds, neither of us speaks. We stare at each other. Me, trying to push down any hope that threatens to spring in my chest. And her, with an expression that goes from disbelief to incredulity… To anger. Shit. I thought I was over the worst.

“You have a nerve.” Her eyes flash golden fire again. “Asking me to be your wife because it’s convenient for you. Because I happen to be around, and no doubt, you have a deadline to meet, huh? Couldn’t find anyone else to fall in with your plans so, of course, you turn to me.”

“It’s not like that.”

Yes, it is. If I hadn’t been here as Serene’s nanny, would you still have reached out to me and asked me to marry you?”

It’s a question which hadn’t crossed my mind, but now that she’s asking it, I nod. “Yes.”

She frowns, taken aback, then leans back in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You don’t believe me?”

She flattens her lips.

I drag my fingers through my hair. “I don’t blame you. Because if I were in your position, I probably wouldn’t believe me, either. But it’s the truth.”

She frowns but still doesn’t speak. My heart begins to race in my chest. My words sound hollow, even to me. How do I convince her that I mean them? That she wasn’t just a convenient choice; she is my only choice. Somewhere, deep in my mind, I hoped that if she stayed on as Serene’s nanny, we’d get to know each other better, and perhaps, we could have had a slower, more organic build up—which might still end in something more permanent. Maybe. How can I convince her, when I hadn’t let myself believe something like that was possible? When I tried my best to keep things professional between us? I have to try though, right? I lean forward in my seat.

“I’m aware we don’t love one another, but it should be clear to you that I respect you.”

“That’s why you told me off in front of your brothers and James?” As soon as the words are out, she winces. “That’s not fair.” She looks away. “You’ve already apologized for it, so I shouldn’t be dwelling on it.”

“I was a bastard for being short with you that way. Truth be told, Arthur’s deadline is weighing heavily on me and, probably, screwing up my judgment. And then, you walked into that room, looking so beautiful. And I wanted to tear out the eyes of everyone there who was seeing you. I wanted to carry you out of there and finish what we started at my penthouse when we first met.”

“Oh.” Color flushes her cheeks. When she meets my gaze again, her eyes flash, but this time, with something like…lust?

It turns my blood to lava, and my balls to steel. I bat aside my desire, choosing my words carefully. “I felt it was beneath you to be gathering up those empty beer glasses.”

Her forehead wrinkles. “I was being hospitable.”

“I know. And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with what you did. But I felt… I felt—” It’s my turn to look away until my emotions are under control. “I felt, you deserved better. I felt, you deserved to be more than Serene’s nanny. I felt… If you’d been doing it as my wife, it would have been fine.” I glance back at her. “But you are Serene’s nanny, and I worried you were demeaning yourself by clearing the glasses. That you were taking on the role of the cleaning lady.”

She blinks. “If I were your wife and clearing away the empty glasses, it would have been fine. But as Serene’s nanny, it felt wrong?”

The back of my neck heats. “When you put it that way, it feels illogical, but trust me, there’s been nothing logical about having you under my roof and watching you with my daughter, seeing the two of you grow close in the last month.”

The skin around her eyes relaxes. “I really am very fond of Serene. There’s this connection between us I can’t explain.”

“She has that effect on people.” That tightness in my chest dissolves a fraction. Talking about Serene will do that to me. It’s the only time Priscilla and I have actually communicated. We see eye-to-eye when it’s anything related to Serene. We also used to see eye-to-eye when it was us, skin to skin.

As if she senses where my thoughts have turned to, her pupils dilate. The pulse at the base of her neck speeds up. Those unspoken emotions spike the air between us. “You know, what we have is more than what most marriages are based on.”

‘What do you mean?”

“We both care for Serene and can offer her the stability she needs. And we know enough of each other to know we’re compatible in bed.”

Her flush deepens. She licks her lips, and I have no doubt, she’s recalling the last time we were in bed together. A groan builds in my throat, and I swallow it away. I have to slide my legs apart to accommodate my raging erection.

I realize now, my trying to keep things professional between us would never have worked out. It’s a blessing in disguise that Arthur’s deadline forced things into overdrive.

I never would have been happy for things to progress organically between us. My patience would have run out before that. At some point, I’d have taken things into my own hands. Come to think of it, I’ve already been doing that on a daily basis. But the fact is, not even the possibility of risking upsetting her enough to leave her position as Serene’s nanny would have stopped me. Perhaps, my grandfather wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. Am I giving the old coot credit?

I shove those thoughts aside, bringing my focus back to her.

“The chemistry between us only built over the past year. Since you came to work for me, I’ve been aware of you in a way that’s intruding into my thoughts and taking over my dreams. There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t woken up without having dreamt of being inside of you.”

“Oh, my God.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“It’s true,” I say softly. “I understand it feels inopportune, even crude and opportunistic, that I’m asking you to marry me now, but believe me, I mean it. And to show you how much, there won’t be a prenup.”

Her eyes fly open. “No prenup?”

“I know it’s unheard of, especially when you think about the billions that I stand to inherit if you marry me. It means everything I have is yours. You’ll have access to the Davenport fortune. You won’t have to worry about paying your rent or debts. Of course, if you want to hold down a job, or even start your own daycare, I won’t stop you.”

“You’d be okay with me working?” She frowns.

The fact she asked that question reveals she’s at least considering the option. I release the breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. It’s too early to celebrate, though. “Of course, if that’s what you want. I’ll never stop you from following your heart and doing what you need to do to feel fulfilled.”

She swallows. “That’s unexpected.”

I frown. “It shouldn’t be. I’d never do anything that would make you feel insecure or unhappy. I’d never make you feel like I’m taking advantage of you. I’d never stop you from reaching your full potential. Being a single father has taught me how important it also is to maintain perspective. Which means, having some kind of link to the outside world. It was—still is—tough, managing both a kid and a job, but there have been times when the job has also been my sanity, know what I mean? After the unpredictability of dealing with a child, the discipline of a conference call and the petty bottom line-related arguments between team members is almost a relief to defuse.”

She half-smiles. “That’s very insightful of you. In fact”—she looks at me closely—“since you walked into The Fearless Kitten and offered me this job, I’m often amazed at how self-aware and reflective you’ve become.”

“Having a child can do that to you, huh?”

Her forehead smoothes out. Some of the tension leaves her body.

“What do you say? Everything I have will be half yours. You’ll have financial stability. You’ll be independently wealthy, without being beholden to anyone.”

She leans back in her seat. Her eyes show surprise. Her gaze signals she’s digesting everything I’ve said.

‘If money were that important to me, I wouldn’t have left home when my father told me he’d disinherit me. Or I might have put my emotions aside and married Knox, which I didn’t.”

“This is different.” I tilt my head.

“How’s that?”

“You turned your back on your father’s money to prove to yourself you can make it on your own. Which you have now.”

“But—” She begins to speak, but I interrupt.

“As Serene’s nanny, you make enough to live comfortably. You don’t have to prove anything to yourself, on that count.”

Her forehead wrinkles, but her expression tells me she’s paying close attention to my words.

“As for Knox—you’d never have gone ahead, knowing he had feelings for someone else. Knowing”—I look deeply into her eyes—“you had unfinished business with his brother.”

“Unfinished business, huh?” She tips up her chin. “Thought that was done when you didn’t reach out to me for almost six months.”

“But I did—I admit, it took me time to get my head out of my arse and work out my feelings. But I did reach out to you.”

“To ask me to become Serene’s nanny. It wasn’t to ask me to be your—” She firms her lips.

“Wife?” I supply.

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I said.’

“I’m saying it now.” I walk around the table and go down on one knee in front of her. She looks at me, flabbergasted, her eyes wide with shock.

I take her hand in mine. “Marry me, Cilla. Help me raise Serene. Make the three of us happy by agreeing to be my wife.”