Page 17 of Stolen Sin

“I don’t have your number.”

Now he’s just fucking with me. “You have my credit score, dickhead. You have my number.”

He shrugs like that’s neither here nor there. “What do you think, topolina? Are you going to be my wife?” He gets up and I bite my lip to keep from groaning. It’s the way he said that word wife, and the way he’s looking at me like he wants to pin me down and take me like it’s our honeymoon here and now.

Which also terrifies me, because Simon’s absolutely enormous. His size is only underscored by how tiny my apartment is. This place wasn’t built for a man like him, and I’m forced to move back toward my bed just to put some space between us.

“It’s really hard to want to trust you when you keep breaking into my stuff.” I rub my face with both hands and suck in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It doesn’t work.

“This isn’t about trust. This is about business.” He leans casually in front of my kitchen sink. We’re six feet apart, at most. He could reach out and grab me if he wanted to. “You get something you want, I get something I want. That’s more important than trust. I won’t betray my own self-interests.”

I give him a hard look. “Assuming you’re being honest about what this is all about. How do I know you aren’t going to, like, drain my bank account? Or human traffic me?”

“If I wanted to sell you to sex slavers in Eastern Europe, I’d shove a pair of panties in your mouth and drag you to my car right now. You’d be gone on a ship bound for distant, morally flexible ports by the time the sun came up.”

My heart races into my throat because he said that like he’s done it before.

“Okay, great, you’re not sex trafficking me. That’s a huge relief.” I’m not kidding about that—it really is a relief. “We’re going to be partners, right? And yet you keep violating my space like you have zero concern for me as a person.”

He tilts his head as if he’s never considered the idea of personal space in his entire life. “We can’t exactly have these discussions in public, baby. I don’t want anyone to know what I have planned until you’re wearing my ring.”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t call me baby.”

“Marry me and I’ll stop.”

I stare at the ceiling. Somehow, I doubt that’ll happen. “What if I made demands?” I ask, not even sure where I’m going with this but curious about what he’ll say.

“Go ahead.” He makes a dismissive gesture. “I can be accommodating and very attentive to your needs.”

I raise my eyebrows. I’m pretty sure that’s an innuendo, but I decide to let it go. “First, my dad can’t find out.”

“That’ll be pretty hard. You know, on account of you living with me and carrying my child.”

“No, asshole, I mean about the money.” A strange tingle fills my core at the thought of sleeping in his bed. Get it together, Emily, you’re not spooning with this mafia psychopath, you’re just making a bargain with a devil, that’s all. “He can’t know where the money comes from. I don’t want him to know that I married you to help him, ever.”

He presses his perfect lips together and tilts his head side to side. “That’ll be complicated, but it’s doable. What else do you want?”

I didn’t expect this to be that easy, but I start to get a little confident. I must have underestimated how much Simon wants me, but now I can see a little glimmer of hope. I’m not as powerless as I thought.

“No baby for the first year.” I hold up a finger. The middle one. I’m tired, buzzed, and not mature. Whatever. “One year of bliss, then we’ll do the baby thing.”

He grunts and doesn’t look happy. “The sooner I knock you up, the better. The baby is a big part of my plans.”

“Fine. Six months.”

“Four months. And when we get you pregnant, we do it the old-fashioned way.” His grin is wolfish and beyond sexy. I hate him for that.

“Fine. Four months, but I turkey-baster it. You jizz in a cup and I squirt it up myself.”

He cracks his neck. “How romantic. Do I at least get to watch?”

“Freak. Not going to happen.”

“Fine. Done. Four months and then you artificially inseminate yourself.” He waves a hand as though he doesn’t care, but I can tell he’s disappointed.

Simon wants to fuck me. It’s a visceral and exciting realization, and honestly, not the worst thing in the world.

But I have to stay focused. “Last requirement. You take care of my father for the rest of his life. Even after the five years are up. You take care of him way beyond paying his debts.”

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