Page 10 of Roman Petrov

Trying to ignore him, I’m painfully aware of him pushing away from the side of his Maserati and stamping out his smoke before he ambles closer. He slides a folder from under his elbow and steps into my space, blocking me from getting into my own vehicle.

The paper smacks softly as it lands on the roof of my Audi, yet he still hasn’t said a word.

Arching my chin, I try to give the best impatient expression I can muster. “You’re in my way.”

Is he really leaning againstmycar like he owns it?

“I had a lawyer look into it. I have a new proposal that could solve both of our problems.”

He gestures at the stapled document in front of me.

When I glance down at the large letters across the top, the heading makes my stomach roll.

“Marriage? How the hell does that fix anything?” Why would I ever put myself through that misery again?

“Simple. We tie the knot. Then after a couple of months, you add my name to the deed, like a married couple would. And, six months later, we divorce. I take the club, you take the cash.”

He has a smug smile teasing his lips.

It almost makes him look handsome. If he wasn’t such an ass.

I hate this. But, it’s the first glimmer of escape I’ve seen. “How much?”

His hands dive into the pockets of his designer pants and he rocks back on his heels. “My original offer stands.”

“I want half up front.” I need to get out of the burden of this debt.

One of his dark-suited arms snakes out to pin the papers and his lips whisper close to my ear. “So you’ll marry me?”

Jerking my head away, all I can see is his mouth, inches from mine. “It’s a paper marriage, don’t get excited.”

His body moves to mirror mine, but he doesn’t touch me. “I don’t think I’m the one that will have a problem controlling myself.”

Roman drops to one knee, and holds his hand up expectantly. “I suppose I should do this the right way.”

My cheeks burn and I frantically look around to see if anyone is watching. “Get up, you’re embarrassing us both.”

He chuckles, and stands slowly before patting the dirt from his pants. Opening my car, he takes my hand and leads me into the driver’s side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, wife.” He pulls the seat belt down across my chest and snaps it into the buckle. The heat of his breath burns my throat as he pauses with his eyes level to mine.

“Drive safe.”

A vacuum sucks all the air from the car as he pulls away and shuts my door.

Holy shit. What was that?

Why is my stomach twisting into a knot?

What am I thinking? Marrying a man with his reputation is the wrong plan.

But, there’s a piece of me that is curious what other tattoos cover his body.

Rochelle is going to freak out when I tell her.

7

ROMAN

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