The Rejected Wife: Chapter 36

‘Are you busy?’

I glance up from where I’ve been engrossed in the latest paperwork related to a takeover the Davenports are planning. I lean back in my seat and beckon her to come inside.

She walks in and comes to a halt behind a chair. She doesn’t sit. Instead, she clasps the back of the chair. My gaze is drawn to the ring on her left hand. She hasn’t taken it off. Each time I spot her wearing it, my heart feels lighter. As does the tension in my shoulders. I have managed not to remind her to give me her answer over the past five days. Only one more day to go. Tomorrow is the deadline for her to let me know, though I’d prefer not to wait until then. By the look on her face, I’m pretty sure she’s come to a conclusion. My muscles seize up. My shoulders turn to stone. Fucking hell, if she says she’s not going to marry me… I… I’m not sure how I’ll get over it.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to love her the way she deserves to be, but I also can’t let her go so she can marry someone else.

Seeing her with Knox brought home how much I hate that idea. I’m being petty and selfish in keeping her for myself, while unable to put her first because Serene will always be first.

The money, I hope, will help take the sting off my proposition. I can only hope she sees the benefit in what I proposed. And then, there’s Serene and their relationship.

She grips the chair with such force, the skin stretches across her knuckles. She looks so tightly wound up, sympathy squeezes my chest.

‘I’m sorry I put you in this spot. If it weren’t for the fact that this is what’s best for Serene, I might have talked myself out of it. But I know this will benefit Serene the most.

She nods. ‘It’s why I’m saying yes.’

‘You’re agreeing to my proposal?’

She tips up her chin. ‘I’m agreeing to marry you. To be a mother to Serene. But not to any of the money that’d come with being your wife.’

I still. Place my fingertips together, slowly. ‘You don’t want access to my money?’

‘When I marry you, I will no longer be her nanny. I become a mother to her. And your wife. And you said the marriage is real. And for it to feel real for me, I don’t want any money in the equation, at all. Which means, yes, I don’t want access to your fortune. You should leave it all to Serene.”

Something hot slices through my chest. This woman—she can strike me dumb. Not something that normally happens.

‘So, you’ll marry me. And you’ll take care of Serene. But you don’t want my money?’

‘I’ll be living here under your roof. No doubt, you’ll be taking care of all living expenses. I’ll ask for a monthly allowance, so I have my independence and am not dependent on you.’ She names a figure that’s a little over what I’m paying her as a nanny. ‘This is more than enough for me to take care of my spending needs and also, saving. In no time at all, I’ll have enough set aside that I won’t need to be dependent on anyone else. The vast amounts of money you mentioned?’ She lifts a shoulder. ‘What would I do with that?’

I realize, she’s serious. What she’s saying is not what I expected at all. I rise up from my chair and walk around to stand next to her. I hold out my hand, and she slips her palm in mine. Overcome by an emotion I can’t quite put a name to, I bring her fingers to my mouth and kiss them.

She draws in a sharp breath. ‘What was that for?’

‘You’re spectacular.’ I look into her eyes. ‘You’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met. I knew there was a reason I couldn’t forget you. And it wasn’t only because you were the subject of many X-rated dreams.’

She flushes and tries to pull her hand from mine, but I hold onto it. ‘There was something so authentic, so real about you, it hit me right away. It was your heart, your soul, which stood out. And of course, your beauty.’

Her lips curve. “Are you saying that I’m beautiful?’

‘You know I am. And to be clear, whether you want my money or not, you will have access to everything I own. What’s mine is yours, you feel me?”

Her entire face softens. “You’re stubborn.”

“I am.”

“And bossy.”

“You bet. You should also know that I think you’re ravishing, and irresistible, and curvaceous, and stunning.’

“Don’t overdo it.” She tosses her head. “I mean, I’m aware that you like my figure. You made that clear the first time we met.”

I chuckle. Damn, I love that she never puts down her curves. I love how comfortable she is in her own skin.

‘Like? I love your figure,” I growl with vehemence.

‘I do, too.’ She tips up her chin. ‘Despite the fact that, even the years I was surviving on ramen didn’t help me lose them.’

‘Thank fuck.’ I twine her fingers with mine. ‘I should also say thank you!’

There’s a question in her eyes.

‘For agreeing to marry me. For agreeing to become the mother Serene needs so desperately.’

‘Papa?’ Serene pushes the door open and pads in, dragging her favorite soft toy—Donny the dinosaur—with her.

“Serene, what are you doing out of bed, honey?” Priscilla exclaims.

Serene walks over to stand between us. Letting go of her toy, she holds up her arms.

Priscilla and I look at each other, then together, bend and pick her up. My arm lines up above hers, my skin brushing against hers as we hold the child between us. My chest seizes up. That melting sensation that invaded it when Serene called Priscilla ‘Mama’ seems to pervade my entire body. If I needed any further proof that marrying her is the right thing to do, here it is.

‘Did you have a bad dream?’ Priscilla asks her softly.

Serene nods. ‘It was a tiger.’ Her breath hitches. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Don’t be, baby. The tiger’s not real,” I say in a soothing tone.

Serene’s chin trembles. Another tear drop squeezes out from the corner of her eye, following the trail left by the others. My chest hurts something fierce. Between these two, I’m going to turn into an emotional wreck. I reach up to brush away her tear at the same time as Priscilla. Our fingers brush against each other. Sparks zip out from the point of contact. She must feel it too, for her cheeks turn pink. She pulls her arm back, and I clasp Serene to my chest.

The little girl places her head under my chin and sucks on her thumb. She contemplates Priscilla with that seriousness I’ve known her to have from the day she arrived. I swear, Serene feels everything more deeply than any kid her age does. I personally theorize it has to do with being separated from her birth mother so early in life. I hope the therapist I’ve consulted will help Serene deal with her trauma. I’m also confident Priscilla’s love and care is going to do a world of good for her.

Serene holds out a hand in Priscilla’s direction. Priscilla takes it, and Serene urges her closer. Then she yawns hugely. ‘Can I sleep in your bed today, Papa?’

‘She’s asleep.’ Priscilla closes the book she’s been reading, then stifles a yawn.

‘You’re tired,’ I say from the other side of Serene.

All three of us are in my bed, where Serene insisted on bringing us. Then, she wanted Priscilla to read a specific story to her, over and over again. Until finally, on what felt like the hundredth read—but was only the fifth one—my daughter’s eyes finally closed. I rise to my feet and scoop her up in my arms.

Noting Priscilla’s worried expression, I reassure her, ‘Once she’s out, it’ll be a few hours before she wakes up. But when she does sleep, it’s deeply. She won’t be disturbed if I carry her to her room.’ I walk across the hallway and into Serene’s room, then place her in her bed. I cover her gently, making sure her star projector night-light is on so the ceiling of her room is speckled with stars. Then, I kiss her forehead. I straighten and turn to find Priscilla watching me from the doorway. She steps back, and I shut the door. She follows me down the hallway, down the stairs, and back to my study.

I pour a drink at the bar for myself and a glass of wine for her. Then, I walk back and hand it to her.

‘I shouldn’t be⁠—’

‘She’s asleep. She’ll stay asleep for a few hours. And if she does wake up?’ I point to the baby monitor I have on my desk.

‘Okay. I guess there’s no harm in one glass.’ She takes a sip, then licks a drop from her lips.

It draws my attention to her gorgeous mouth. And damn, if I don’t want to kiss her and capture her breath. I force myself to glance away. She’s agreed to marry me. I’m not going to screw this up… Not until the papers are signed, and she’s mine. I walk around to my desk, pull out a few sheets of paper and place them on the desk.

‘This is the paperwork needed to apply for a marriage license.’

‘Oh.’ She sets her glass down. The apprehension on her face makes me feel sorry for having disturbed her enjoyment of the wine. But it’s best that we get through this paperwork while she still seems open to the idea of the marriage.

She sinks into the chair and leafs through it, then reaches for a pen. She signs the papers and places her pen down. ‘Now what?’

I slide the papers into my drawer, then round the desk to her. I hold out my hand, and she places her much smaller one in mine. I urge her to her feet.

When I look into her eyes, she meets my gaze. I only see clarity in hers. That beguiling honesty which appealed to me from the beginning. Then there’s her beauty. Her luscious curvy body. Her responsiveness to me—as confirmed by the way her breathing speeds up. I run my thumb over the ring on her finger, and a fierce possessiveness fills me. One I don’t question too closely. She’s mine. She’s going to be my wife. I’m going to tie her to me. I’m going to take care of her. Cherish her. Protect her. I’m going to make love to her. I’m going to fuck her. I’m going to ensure she never lacks for anything. And perhaps, in time, that will compensate for the fact that I might not be able to love her. Perhaps, everything else I offer her will be enough? I bend my knees and peer into her eyes. ‘You won’t regret this.’