Page 20 of One Wealthy Wedding

“Never.” I lift my chin and grasp his hands. I’m not running. I’ll do what needs to be done, even if it means shackling myself to a man. Already, the band around my finger feels like a brand. A sign of Theo’s ownership. I want to fling it at his head.

“Smile, sweetheart. You wanted this, remember?” He looks amused at my panic.

“I don’t want this,” I hiss. I glance at the witnesses to make sure they can’t hear me. The judge certainly can’t.

We repeat the vows. Theo’s “I do” is steady, and mine is weak. How is he so comfortable? A day ago, I thought he would sooner push me into traffic than marry me. But in true Theo fashion, he’s righted himself and moved on with his life.

“You may kiss the bride,” the judge pronounces.

Ah, shit.

I forgot about the kiss. How could I forget about the kiss? I can’t kiss Theo. Sure, at seventeen, I thought about nothing but kissing Theo. My eyes flare wide, my gaze darts. Theo smiles at my panic.

He takes my hands. “Not a real marriage. Except in public,” he murmurs.

I swallow hard. “Not a real marriage,” I agree. “I will never fall in love with you. I promise. One year. And then we’re done.”

Something flickers in his gaze, but it’s gone before I can name it. Then he steps forward, tangles his fingers in my hair, and kisses me.

9

Cat

When I kissed Theo at nineteen, it was awkward and fumbling. He’d kissed before. I hadn’t. I made a hash of it, going in with my mouth open and almost biting his tongue. He’d rapidly recovered and taken control. Even at twenty-one, he had a practiced ease about him. His lips had been cool from the rain, his tongue warm. When he slipped it into my mouth, I felt like stars were bursting inside me.

He takes control again, using my moment of panic as an opening. He presses firm, warm lips to mine, and mine part involuntarily. My tongue touches his lip, and he jolts. I think he’s going to step away, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand tightens on my hair and his lips part too. His tongue flicks out, and he makes a low sound in his throat. Then he’s really kissing me. A kiss worthy of a movie. I half expect someone to start wolf-whistling, but I’m too dazed to do more than press my palms to his chest and kiss him back.

He tastes delicious. As good as I remember. Better, maybe. He smells good too, like woodsy cologne, expensive shampoo, warm male skin. His lips are soft, even with the roughness of his stubble, and the way they slip against mine is perfection. For one heartbeat, I’m transported back to the lake. I’m kissing Theo in the rain, and his composure is breaking, his erection growing against my stomach, and I’m wild and alive with possibility.

Then he wrenches himself back, his eyes wide and his chest rising and falling a little too rapidly.

“Marriage license?” he asks the judge in a gravelly voice.

I waver on my heels without his support.

If the judge is surprised at our awkward kiss, she doesn’t show it. This probably isn’t the weirdest marriage she’s ever officiated.

Or maybe Theo paid her to look the other way.

She signs the license, passes it to him, and wishes us well. I nearly laugh.

Theo stalks out of the room and out into the cold. I trail him, pleased he’s just as off-balance as I am.

He waves his driver off and opens the door. “In,” he grunts.

“I’ll take the train.” I’ve mostly figured out the subway after six months here.

“We need to talk.”

I sigh and follow him into the vehicle. His face is stormy as he stares out the window. His jaw ticks. His jaw never ticks. I riled him up. So this is what it’s like giving as good as you get. I could get used to this.

His eyes cut to me. “Was that fun for you?”

“It was just a kiss,” I say with a shrug.

A kiss that made me feel like my stomach was tumbling. A kiss that made me remember why Theo is so dangerous for me. My shrug is a facade. Inside, I want to know if he felt that zing of desire.

Is he unsettled too? Does he wish we could go back to being friends? Did he ever think about me after he moved away?

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