Page 58 of Resist

By the time I’m done, emotion has my hands trembling as I present the ring to her, and my eyes are swimming with unshed tears because, at the end of the day, it’s still a fucking marriage proposal. Part of me can’t believe I’m doing this, but if she trusts me, she might be inclined to let me in. There’s no turning back now. My future is tied to the woman whose father raped my mother.

She stares at me like I’ve just told her I have the nuclear football codes. “Y-you want to marry me?”

I nod.

“But I’m a terrible partner.”

Someone in the crowd snorts.

“I sleep in the middle of the bed.” Her bottom lip trembles like she’s scared her confession will drive me away.

“I know.” I play along with our ruse even though she seems to be trying to educate me on her ways.

“I’m selfish, and driven, and I don’t need you to change a lightbulb or put oil in my car.” She shakes her head.

“You say all that like it’s a bad thing, Corabelle. Self-sufficiency isn’t a check in the cons column. Let me be the Watson to your Sherlock Holmes.”

That makes her lips tilt, but she remains quiet for another long moment, and I’m starting to feel light headed, like the oxygen in the room is escaping. Guess it’s a good thing I’m used to being on my knees for long periods of time.

Tears trickle down her cheeks as she nods, and the room erupts into cheers as I slip the ring on her finger. I kiss her deeply, passionately, and so intensely she melts against me. No one can query the legitimacy of that kiss.

Everyone rushes to congratulate us, mimosas and cupcakes are handed out to the room, and by the time people have simmered down a little and are returning to their offices, there’s only my bride-to-be and the two older men I don’t recognize remaining in the room.

“Does this mean you’ll be giving up your apartment and moving in with...?”

“Sterling, sir. Sterling Montgomery. A pleasure.” I give him a handshake that’s just a little too firm, reminding him that while he may think he’s someone, he better not fuck around with my soon-to-be wife. Or he’ll most definitely “find out.”

She stares blankly for a moment before her head starts to shake. “He’s moving in with me. You know I’d never give up that view, Michael.”

He nods, a grim smile on his face. “It’s why I asked. I would have made you an offer.”

“When will the wedding take place?” The second man asks. “The sooner it happens the sooner you can fully undertake your role here as you know.” He looks at me but his words are directed at Corabelle.

“I’d make her my wife tomorrow, sir. But we need to wait a few days for the license to come through.”

“That’s... fast. But it’s to be understood, all things considered. Will you be taking a honeymoon?” Michael asks.

Corabelle nods. “Of course. As long as the firm can spare me for a few days.”

The second guffaws. “Take a week, Cora. In fact, take a couple. We can keep this place running without you just fine.” Are these guys board members, or employees? They’re acting like they have some kind of authority in this instance, but board members are often not employed by the company. Exactly what kind of corrupt shit-show was Corabelle’s father running here?

Michael’s shrewd eyes narrow, suggesting if Corabelle were to leave for a week he already has top-secret plans cooking in a cauldron somewhere to stage a coup in her absence. “You still have a few months. Why such a quick wedding? Are we to expect the pitter patter of little feet in nine months as well?”

Didn’t they agree just a heartbeat ago that they understood the rush job? Are these guys deliberately trying to trip her up and catch her out, or what?

Cocky fucker. He even looks at Corabelle’s stomach. I clench and unclench my fist.

Corabelle shakes her head. “You both know I’ve never wanted children. This isn’t a shotgun wedding because he got me knocked up, Michael.”

He doesn’t look convinced. And the more he stares at Corabelle with his rock-hard stare, the more unsettled my stomach becomes. He’s going to be trouble. We’re going to have to put on a good show to convince this asshole I’m not playing around.

I slip my arm around her waist, and brush my lips against her cheek, putting on my most adoring smile. “Any man who has the honor of being with Corabelle and doesn’t want to marry her right away is an utter fool.”

Michael grunts, and the second guy reaches his hand out to shake mine. “Congratulations, son. Cora, your father would be so proud of you.”

He says it like the only good thing she’s ever done in her fucking life is choose a man to marry. My stomach lurches, as does my blood pressure. These assholes need to get the fuck away from both of us.

She squeezes my hand before leaning over to whisper a single word into my ear. “Pickle.”