Page 146 of The Sinner's Bargain

Arriving at the courthouse took forty minutes of silent driving. Another ten minutes of silent walking around the stucco exterior to the front doors and inside. I held onto Thoran as if we were marching into enemy territory and he was my only safeguard. The noise in my head was deafening and vicious, cutting slices into my resolve the deeper we went. No amount of assuring myself everything would be fine lightened the suffocating fog clouding my brain.

Jarrett could find me. Once I filled out the paperwork, he could easily track me down, or worse, Mother. She could find me.

I couldn’t lie here. Lying made the papers fake. The marriage. It could jeopardize Thoran’s rights to the house. His whole life. I couldn’t do that to him. Also, I didn’t want this to be a fake marriage. I didn’t want it not to be real.

So, when the kind woman behind the desk with the silver glasses and soft cloud of white hair handed me a clipboard to write all my information, my hands shook so hard, I dropped it all with a deafening clatter to the floor.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” she said kindly as Thoran bent to pick it up. “Everyone gets nervous.”

I thanked her and Thoran and took the stiff board and four pages to the nearest chair.

The words and lines swayed and blurred across the paper as I tried to focus on the questions. They were pretty basic but when I scribbled Naya Blackwell into the proper slot, I thought of Malcolm.

Malcolm’s beautiful face peering at me from the open car door, his blue eyes impossibly bright.

“I love you. Trust no one.”

But I trusted Thoran.

I loved him.

He would never hurt me. He wouldn’t let anything else hurt me either, especially not Jarrett but ... what if Jarrett was stronger? What if his army was bigger, his power unmatched even from Thoran? Was I putting Thoran and Oliver, and all the men at Lacroix House in danger?

I contemplated telling him everything right there, but he would tell me he would take care of it and not to worry, but I was worried.

There was also the fact that what if I told him and he suddenly decided his friendship was more important than some girl?

So, I licked my lips and threw all my trust into listening to the little voice telling me Thoran would never hurt me. I put all my faith into it and filled out the documents.

“Okay?” Thoran asked quietly when I finished and handed Vance my clipboard.

I didn’t miss the thorough glance he fanned over the pages, and I waited with the walls of my esophagus pasted together for him to look up, point a long finger at me, and yell I was a liar.

But he strangely didn’t. As Thoran’s advisor, I had been so certain he would recognize my name for sure. Still, he took the clipboard to the counter and shared several low murmurs with the receptionist.

“Naya?” Thoran reminded me he’d spoken, and I nodded.

“Nervous,” I whispered.

“Hey,” his fingers slipped beneath my dipped chin and lifted my face to his. He didn’t kiss me, but he held my gaze. “Everything will be fine.”

I had no choice but to believe him when our name was called, and I was getting unsteadily to my feet. Thoran held my hand the entire way into the spacious office that held the sweet scent of lemon cleaner and taffy. We were positioned before a large, oak desk.

Mother’s wedding planner had walked me through the step-heel-step stride I was supposed to take down the aisle but there was none of that. I was standing before Thoran. Facing him in the brightly lit office

Gingerly, I undid the buttons on my coat and let the material glide down my arms. Cyrus reached over silently and accepted it without being asked. I glanced over at him and smiled.

“Thank you.”

He inclined his head and casually draped it over his arms.

Lighter, slightly chilly from the loss of warmth, I faced my soon to be husband.

Thoran was working his way up my legs, eyes tangling in my skirt and following the lines of my waist to stop at my chest before meeting my gaze. His attention to every curve of me had the cold dissipating and my skin prickling with warmth.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, his eyes said.

The hard slant of his jaw.

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