Page 10 of Reckless Love

He rolled his eyes, probably having heard that question his whole life. “Yeah, my parents didn’t really think the name through.”

“Or they had a lot of expectations for your career path,” I chimed in, Andrew’s easy smile relaxing some of the tension in my shoulders.

Warwick scoffed, and Andrew chuckled. “I have to admit, I probably ruined all those dreams then.”

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but my husband cut me off. “Thanks for coming, Drew. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Andrew shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. “Sounds good, man. I’ll be around if you need anything.” He winked at me. “Pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Forrester.” He spun on his heel, striding from the room.

Mr. Devane stepped in front of me, taking my hands. “I’ll be in touch about the next steps, Sia.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, leaning into the urge to hug the older man. When I withdrew from his quick embrace, I spotted Warwick frowning.

Mr. Devane turned to my husband and held out a hand. “Take care of her. She’s a special girl.”

After a heavy pause, Warwick clasped his hand and shook it. “I will.”

Watching Mr. Devane leave, my nerves tripled until I had to lace my fingers together to keep them from shaking.

Warwick turned to me with an impassive look. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, knowing that anything I ate would likely make a reappearance this evening. My stomach was too knotted up to digest anything.

His lips pressed together. “If you change your mind, you’ll tell me. I’ll order room service.”

“Okay,” I agreed, not sure if I liked his tone. It was all business and impassive.

His dark eyes skated down the length of me once more. “Come, wife.” He held out a hand, palm up.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped my hand inside his much larger one. It was rougher than I expected, like he worked outdoors instead of in a boardroom. The texture was surprising as he gently pulled me from the restaurant and toward the elevator bank.

He swiped a keycard over the control panel before hitting the button for the floor beneath us. When the doors slid open a moment later, we stepped out into a large entryway, the plush cream carpet leading to two doors.

Warwick pulled his hand from mine, only to put it against the small of my back, urging me toward the door on the right. When we were close enough, he used the same keycard to unlock the room. He pushed the door open, holding it for me to walk through.

I hesitated, and his brow lifted. “Would you prefer I carry you over the threshold? I thought I’d save that particular tradition for our actual home, but?—”

“No,” I cut him off, scurrying through the door. Automatic lights flickered on, illuminating a large sitting room done in shades of cream, gold, and cherry wood. A large crystal chandelier hung overhead, casting tiny little rainbows across the walls.

Directly in front of me was a wall of glass that showed the sparkling city below. Entranced, I wove through the living space until I was directly in front of the windows.

I’d always loved views of the city from up high, especially at night. It gave the place I called home an almost magic feel that movies always tried to capture.

The sound of the door closing had me spinning and remembering my freaking husband.

Warwick tossed the keycard, his phone, and wallet on the small table near the front door before shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of a wingback armchair. He loosened the buttons on his crisp white dress shirt, rolling them up his forearms.

“Bathroom is connected to the bedroom,” he said, not looking at me as he inclined his head toward the double doors on my left. They’d been left open to reveal a ginormous four poster bed with matching nightstands.

“Right.” I started to take a step to the bedroom, but paused. The skirt of my gown swished around my legs as I examined the man I’d just pledged the rest of my life to.

The man who had ruined my family and left me with no choice but to be bought like a dairy cow at the state fair.

A shot of fury overrode the constant state of anxiety I’d devolved into. I took a breath, finding my voice. “Are we going to talk about any of this?”

“This?” he echoed, lifting his dark eyes to me.

I huffed a breath. “We got married, and we just met.”

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