The Rejected Wife: Chapter 34

The man of my dreams is on bended knee, asking me to marry him. Everything he’s said so far is perfect. If only it’d happened a year ago, when I was a little more naïve. When I believed if I wanted something badly enough, I’d draft a manifestation statement with my self-help books, and the universe would, in time, give it to me. Which is kinda, sorta, happening now.

And it’s freaking me out. Or rather… I can’t really get my head around the fact that he really wants me—Me!—to become his wife.

All of his reasons make sense. And it’s not like he’s making me feel cheap by offering me money in return for marrying him.

He’s being so reasonable, so gentlemanly—so logical. Maybe I simply need more convincing?

Pulling my hand from his, I rise from the table and walk over to the sink and place my almost empty cup of tea on the counter. Then I turn and lean a hip against it. ‘You’re good at coming up with convincing arguments.’

‘Have I convinced you yet?’ Far from being deterred that I didn’t give him a yes, he rises to his feet with an expression of determination on his face.

I lock my fingers together. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘What else can I say to help persuade you?’

By rights, he should feel nervous that I might say no. He should be impatient that I haven’t decided yet. After all, it’s his entire fortune on the line. But he stays calm. Resolute. There’s a steely tenacity in those mismatched eyes. It warns me he’s going to try everything possible to make me agree to his proposal. And damn him, but I’m so tempted. It really is what I want, on many levels.

I do like him. A lot. More than a lot. I’m half in love with him. Have been since I saw him the first time. And even more so, now that he’s Serene’s father. And then, there’s Serene, herself.

I begin to pace, arms locked around my waist. ‘So, while this is a marriage of convenience, it’s also a real marriage?”

He nods. “There’s too much of a connection between us for it not to be.”

I pause, looking at him. “And once we’re married, Arthur will hand over your share of the inheritance?”

He nods again. “It would be our inheritance.”

Our. Ours. The word sends a pleasant thrill up my spine.

‘We’d be husband and wife. Sharing a house. Sharing Serene. You’d share everything I have.”

“Including a”—I lick my lips—“bedroom?” What’s making me ask this? Do I want him to spell things out about us sharing the marital bed? Maybe.

‘You already know the answer to that.” He takes a step in my direction. The heat in his eyes elicits an answering flurry of delight deep in my belly.

‘I’m very attracted to you. And you’re attracted to me, too. Once we share a bed, I can promise you, neither of us is going to be doing much sleeping. Not for a long time.” He takes a second step. Another. And another. Until he’s standing in front of me.

I lean my head back, taking in his proud features. That jut of his cheekbones, which could, likely, cut glass. That mouth of his, which screams sex. The strong column of his throat. The breadth of his shoulders that I itch to touch. The expanse of his chest, which draws me toward him. It makes me want to bury my nose in the skin exposed by the lapels of his shirt and breathe deeply of that drugging scent of his. My thighs tremble. My pussy clenches. I feel myself begin to thaw, and struggle to hold onto the remnants of resistance to his proposal.

‘The main issue I have with what you’re suggesting is that it sounds so coldhearted.”

“Coldhearted?” He frowns.

“Maybe that’s the wrong word.” I shuffle my feet. “It sounds too calculated. Too carefully thought out. It’s not very romantic.” I wave my hand in the air.

A small smile quirks his mouth. ‘Is that what you want? Romance?’

‘Every woman wants romance.’ My gaze flickers to the floor before finding his again. “Not that I’m the kind who wants a big wedding.’

‘Neither do I,’ he says with something like relief.

We’re talking about the nitty gritty details. Which implies I’m thinking about this seriously.

He must realize the same thing, for his shoulders relax. He’s a smooth operator, that’s for sure. He’s addressed my doubts before I can even raise them. I could just say yes, I suppose, but I can’t resist testing him one last time.

‘There is one thing.’ I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘There’s someone I met in the past month. Someone I’d like to continue to see, after the wedding.’

There isn’t anyone. Because I never got over Tyler. He’s haunted my dreams. Occupied so much of my waking thoughts. It’s annoying and embarrassing that I’m not over him. It also feels so right that he’s asking me to marry him. It also feels wrong, because he hasn’t yet told me that he loves me. And I feel like a fool for even thinking of the L-word.

My emotions are in such a turmoil, when he snaps, ‘No,’ it takes me a moment to understand what he’s referring to. Then, I connect it to our previous conversation.

‘So, even though ours would be a marriage of convenience, I can’t see anyone else?’ I stare.

‘That’s out of the question.’ His jaw hardens. ‘That would negate the impact this announcement has on Arthur. Besides, didn’t I make it clear enough that this is a real marriage? My proposal was real and this”—he takes my left hand and holds it up—“is a real ring.”

His gaze locks on mine—unyielding, furious, and laced with a possessiveness that scorches. Lust simmers beneath it, thick and undeniable, until every nerve in my body hums, and my insides dissolve into liquid heat. Being the focus of that raw emotion—his desire, his hunger, his claim—sends a rush through me so fierce, it steals my breath. The way he looks at me, like he’s two seconds from throwing me over his shoulder and making me his, lights up my chest with sparks and turns my blood electric.

I manage to get my hormones under control and tip up my chin. ‘That would also apply to you.”

He rolls his shoulders. ‘Since Serene came into my life, I haven’t had time for women or for love. I’ve made up my mind that she is my focus. I’ve dedicated my time to her. Besides, I wasn’t interested in being with anyone else but you.”

I swallow thickly. “You’re saying you haven’t been with another woman since⁠—”

“You.” He nods. “Of course, I’ve had to take myself in hand a lot—and jerk off to some very X-rated images of you in my head, to keep myself going.”

‘Whoa…” That’s hot. Not only the picture of him holding his dick in his hands, which is strangely erotic. But also, the fact that he hasn’t slept with another woman. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of it, but had secretly been almost certain he must have had sex with other women in the interim. Because he might be a dad, but he’s also so virile, he literally oozes testosterone. And just seeing him would cause women to spontaneously climax. “You really haven’t been with anyone else since that…night?”

He shakes his head. His expression is stern, his gaze intense. Every angle in his body is hard and tough and screams that he’s deadly serious when he rumbles, “You were it for me. How could I have ever taken anyone else to bed when I’d already tasted how completely sublime it would have been with you?”

Now, that’s the kind of romance I was thinking of… The band around my chest dissolves. That last barrier standing between me and saying yes to him vanishes. I want to throw myself at him and climb him like a tree, but something makes me ask, ‘And love? What about love?’

He hesitates. ‘That is something I hope will come, eventually.”

Just like that, the hopeful part of me deflates a little. Was I really expecting him to come right out and proclaim his love for me? “You did say that I was it for you.”

“You are.” He nods. “On the few occasions I thought of being with a woman, I couldn’t fathom it being anyone else but you.”

“But you don’t think you love me?” Why am I belaboring this point? Clearly, he hasn’t sorted out his feelings on that yet. Why is it such a big deal for a man to admit he’s in love? Based on everything he’s told me today; I can’t help but think he’s more than halfway there. I mean, the man hasn’t slept with anyone else in almost a freakin’ year. That’s not something that would have been easy for him, right? So, it must mean something.

He shuffles his feet. ‘Over the last year, I poured all of my energy into Serene. All my emotions are invested in her. In all honesty, I don’t think I have anything left over to give to anyone else.’

Ah, okay. I force my muscles to unwind, take a deep breath, and will my shoulders to relax. “You realize that loving a child opens your heart to more love, not less? Loving a child increases your capacity to feel emotions. To love.”

He considers my statement and nods again. “I believe you. Perhaps, I’m all loved out with what I’ve had to pour into bringing up Serene?” He looks uncertain, in a way that makes my breath catch, and my heart to stutter, because Tyler being uncertain…is not something I’ve seen before. Not even when he found Serene in a carrier on his doorstep.

He was pissed off and defensive, maybe, but he still carried that unshakable confidence—the kind that screams former Marine.

This version of Tyler, though? He’s tough and wears his dominance like a shield… But there are chinks in the armor. Enough for the tenderness that he holds inside him to show through. He may not yet be in love with me, but I’m going to make sure he will be.

Of course, once again, I seem to be headed for a non-romantic partnership. Only this time, I’m confident my future husband has feelings for me. He simply has to come to terms with them. And doesn’t every woman think she can tame the alpha male and make him fall in love with her? Am I falling into that trap, too?

I curl my fingers into a fist, feeling the metal of the ring warm against my palm. I look down at the beautiful stone.

“It fits you perfectly,” he murmurs.

“I haven’t accepted your proposal yet,” I warn him. What are you waiting for? What’s stopping you? Damn if I know.

I try half-heartedly, again, to pull it off.

‘Leave it,’ he orders.

I scowl at him. ‘So bossy.’

‘You know that already.” He smirks. “And you like it.”

Our gaze meets, and instantly, I’m so turned on. I’m clutching at straws here. I’m trying to find excuses to turn him down and, honestly, I’m running out of them.

I shake my head to clear it. ‘Can I have some time to think about this? It’s a big decision. One that’s going to change my life.’

His features fall.

Sure, his arguments were very persuasive, but did he think I’d make such an important decision in the spur-of-the-moment?

Then his expression hardens with purpose.

“I understand. You need to be sure. But don’t take too long. The sooner I tell Arthur we’re married; the sooner I can secure Serene’s inheritance.”

He pauses. His gaze sharpens.

“And I don’t want to wait, either.”

He must mean sexually. He’s already said he’s not ready for love…yet. But the need in his voice is unmistakable.

Heat rises to my cheeks. My breath catches.

The thought of calling him my husband. Of being with him. It sparks something low in my belly, something shaky in my chest.

I swallow. “How long do I have?”