Page 53 of Desperate Measures

But the thing that had me gnawing my bottom lip was the fact we were about to leave this little bubble we’d created. This safe place where we could explore this mutual attraction without eyes on us was about to break wide open.

Just one more sleep, and the whole world would know we were married. On Monday, I would start working with him at O’Doyle Industries and the press release we’d drawn up would go out.

It was better to get ahead of the vultures that were the paparazzi. Tabloids loved juicy little headlines, and like it or not, I was the heiress to a fortune with a very powerful father.

People were going to talk.

But maybe not so much if we got there first. So, along with the press release, Liam and I were going to hold a conference in the lobby of the ODI building in downtown Jersey City, ODI being short for O’Doyle Industries.

Some would argue that I was a fool for agreeing to this, but this was a chance to do something I’d wanted for so long. To break out from the weight of my family’s influence and build something myself.

Not on my own, as I’d often fantasized, but with my husband. And for some reason, that seemed even better.

Partners.

That was what he’d promised. It was right there in black and white on the contract I’d signed and had a copy of tucked away in my new safe inside our walk in closet.

We now hadhis and herssafes.

Crazy?

Not when you grew up like I did.

The second the family knew about my marriage, the calls had started. I’d heard everything from rumors he was using me for money, fame, industry secrets, and so on.

It was ludicrous. And hilarious.

At least Lucy had the gumption to ask if he was using me for sex, to which I’d repliedthank yousince no one else even suggested it.

Buttheads.

But Liam never asked about my own personal money or anything like that, really. He either didn’t know or care about my trust fund, or the fact I’d saved quite a lot over the years.

My parents were exceedingly wealthy. I wasn’t ashamed of it. And I wasn’t bragging. It simply was.

As for my husband, well, I looked up O’Doyle Industries. Or rather, Uncle Josef did. He sent over everything he could find about the finances and goings ons, and Liam was really doing quite well for himself.

I had no doubts he’d be a billionaire by the end of the next fiscal year. Same went for me if he honored our contract. The business one. Not the marital one.

Though I was starting to think he had every intention of honoring that one as well.

Hope swelled within me, and I closed my eyes, offering one small, brief prayer to the universe to please let this stick.

Divorce was a dirty word in my household growing up, and I hated to think I might be the first one of us to have her marriage end in such a way.

The thing about it was, I cared for him. For Liam.

What I felt for my husband went beyond the schoolgirl crush I’d had back when I was seventeen. I pressed my hand over my heart, sucking in a calming breath, and releasing it into the air, willing all my anxieties to go with it.

The sounds of the keypad lock had me turning my head just in time to see him walk in.

Fuck.

He always looked so good. His thick hair was combed back, and that sexy beard of his that was a little more than a shadow, but not by much was trimmed and sexy as hell.

His emerald gaze glittered, locking onto mine like a homing pigeon as he strode straight towards me.

“Come here, Wife,” he growled, cupping my cheeks and pulling my face so he could reach me.

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