Page 21 of Keep Me

I’ll be someone’s property.

I mean, not literally. But suddenly, it feels like I’m living by some pretty archaic rules. I’m in a fucking manor that is staffed like it’sDownton Abbey, and I have to live with a real-life chauffeur like I’m some sort of princess. It feels like prison bars made of gold.

Ten million dollars, Sylvie, I remind myself. I can do just about anything for one year. One year of actual luxury, and then I’ll be set for life.

“Who will know it’s not real? The staff?” I ask, wondering if I really need to sell this marriage all the time to everyone.

Anna places her hand on the table in front of me and leans forward. “No. No one can know the scheme. The only people who know are myself, my siblings, and our aunt. That is all. The public, the staff, andespeciallyour extended family must believe that it’s real.”

I force down a gulp. A moment ago I figured the marriage was just a contract we had to uphold for a while, but now I have to actually convince people for a very long period of time that I’m in love with Killian Barclay. I think I might have bitten off more than I can chew.

Speaking of the devil, he bounds loudly down the stairs and into the sitting room, where Anna and I are stationed around a small table, each with a cup of tea in front of us.

“Join us for tea,” she says to her brother.

He seems freshly showered. His hair is still a little wet at the tips, and he’s in clean clothes. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, brown boots, and a white knit Henley.

Is hetryingto impress me with those sculpted shoulders in that tight top? It’s like he’s showing off, and it’s cheesy and gross. Killian is a chauvinist, and Ihatechauvinists.

Without giving him much attention, I focus on my tea, lifting it to my lips for a sip.

“No, thanks,” he replies as he crosses the room toward the bar against the wall. He pours himself something, and I watch his sister for her reaction. There’s a flinch in her stoic, brave expression which reveals something more similar to heartache. Just a subtle flinch of pain.

Killian drops onto the sofa lazily with his drink in his hand. “So, when’s the wedding?” he asks. “I need to know when to plan my stag do.”

I make the mistake of glancing toward him, and he gives me a quick wink, making my blood boil, so I look away again.

The incentive to talk business makes Anna sit taller and look a good deal more in her element than a moment ago.

“There will be no stag do, Killian. And I think it’s best if we do a private ceremony at the church—”

“No church,” he barks, cutting her off.

“Killian…” she pleads.

“I told you. The wedding has to be here, or I’m not doing it.”

Anna lets out a surrendering sigh. “Fine. We’ll have the wedding here and make the official announcement to the public next week. That would be the easiest and most efficient solution.”

“What do you meanofficial announcement?” I ask, tightening my grip on my teacup.

“The family puts out statements to the public through the newspaper, but more recently on social media and through our family’s bulletin. Next month, the two of you should attend an event in town, so people can see you together.”

I notice the way Killian grimaces.

Meanwhile, I’m too distracted by the promise of an announcement. The thought of everyone I know seeing that, especially my parents, makes me giddy with excitement.

“Wait,” I say, realizing something that makes my skin crawl. “You said the staff will all have to believe we’re really married. Does that mean I have to sleep in his room—”

“Och, no,” Anna answers, cutting me off.

“Oh, yes,” Killian says at the same time. He’s wearing a cunning smile, and it’s handsome and alluring, like the devil’s. He could lure women to their deaths with a smile like that.

“No,” Anna says again, side-eying her brother. “There are no physical requirements in this agreement.” I notice the way her cheeks blush, and her fists clench on the topic.

“Unless you want to,” Killian adds with a wink.

“I won’t,” I quip.

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