Page 34 of Chasing His Bride

Despite her words, I know she feels the same way as me. She’s the only person who has ever made my heart miss a beat. I feel it every time I see her, and I know I’m going to feel it every damn day of my life.

She’s mine.

I’m so fucking happy our marriage is legal, and if I can’t win her heart this time, I’m not giving up. I’m going to make sure she’ll struggle to get rid of me. I’m not going to lose her, though. Not being in her life is painful and twists at my gut everyday she's been gone.

She married me, and now she’s mine for good.

I just need her to be convinced of it.

I hold out my hand to take hers. She looks for a moment. “I don’t bite.”

She grins. “Oh, you do,” she says playfully. “I came home with a hickey.”

That was something I never used to do, but with her ... my wife ... I feel an overwhelming urge to mark her. To claim her.

She lays her small hand on my arm and rubs it, and smiles. Shivers skate down my spine, letting me know I’m already hers. I just hope she feels the same way.

She takes my hand, and I’ve never been happier than this moment. Her gaze finds mine, and for the first time, she looks timid. Though I know she’ll pretend otherwise. She’ll raise her shoulders and say something sassy to overcome her nerves.

I wonder why she does that.

Another mission waiting for me to uncover.

She feels the connection between us. I can see it in her eyes as I squeeze my hand around hers.

“You look beautiful,” I say, when we reach the table. I pull out a chair for her.

“Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself,” she replies.

“You make me sound like Mr. Darcy,” I say and laugh.

“Much more handsome,” she replies.

My eyes widen at that.

At dinner, she glances at the wedding ring on my finger; my gaze goes to her hand, and she swallows. She pulls on the chain around her neck; the ring is on her. Though I’d be happier, it was on her finger.

“You’re the one who needed a marriage for your inheritance,” she says.

“This isn’t about that. This is about us. I want more,” I say. My voice isn’t demanding; it’s the opposite; it’s almost begging.

“I can’t, not again.”

“What are you afraid of?” I say, taking hold of her hand. “Just give us a chance?”

“No,” she says, I get it. Understand where she’s coming from, not that it’s going to stop me. “This is a fake marriage; we’re fake.”

I draw back and scowl at her. “It’s real. Tell me you feel nothing for me,” I say. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Every morning, evening, I can’t concentrate at work.”

“I can’t do it,” she murmurs.

“You can’t tell me something you feel? You’re scared,” I say. “I get it; I was. Although I knew in Vegas, you were the one for me.” A look of surprise crosses her face as she narrows her eyes. “I didn’t know what I was really feeling. I’d never felt it before.” I pause as I stare at her. “I’ve never fallen in love before.”

“Oh,” she gasps, hearing it again surprises her as much as the first time. Her eyes popping open, probably at the realization I told her I love her again when I said I couldn’t. This time, she knows it’s real.

“And I get that your coping mechanism is to shut down, protect your heart from being in love.”

“I can love,” she whispers.

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