Page 30 of A Forgotten Promise

I lean back in my chair and crack my neck. Game on.

“Let’s get this over with,” I snap. “A prenup is essential. What other conditions do you possibly have?”

She bristles. “A prenup is essential for me too. Don’t think for a second I need your money.”

I chuckle, a low sound that seems to annoy her. “And yet, here you are.”

She rolls her eyes. “No wonder you have to pay someone to pretend to like you. It’s not just your reputation that is toxic; it’s your personality.”

“You need money, I need a wife. Let’s not make this more complicated than it has to be.”

“Again, I don’t give a flying fuck about your money.” Saar’s voice is now laced with annoyance. “This is about what’s mine. My trust fund is locked up because of a stupid clause. So, trust me, I’m not here for your millions, Quinn.”

I push my chair out and cross one leg over the other, adjusting my cuffs. “Billions.”

Saar huffs, exasperated. I should not enjoy this so much.

Betsy clears her throat, glaring at me. I guess if someone captured the current mood on camera, we won’t sell the happy story.

Well, Saar is not the only one capable of selling this. I stand up.

“Corm,” Betsy warns.

I round the table, not leaving Saar’s eyes for a moment. In one swift move, I grab her hand and pull her up. Fuck, she is really light.

The momentum and her surprise propel her forward, and she lands with her hands on my chest, her body flush against mine.

Before she can react, I snake my arm around her waist, pulling her even tighter to me.

She looks at me wide-eyed, and for a moment, she is just herself. A little bit vulnerable, and a hell-of-a-lot beautiful.

She wears no makeup, and for that beat of a moment, she isn’t acting, posing, or pretending. She just is, taken aback, mask down. And for an equally brief moment, I find myself mesmerized, completely spellbound by her.

But she snaps out of it quickly and frowns. “What—”

“Make no mistake, The Morrigan…” I dip my head and whisper into her ear.

Her breath hitches, and I pretend the scent of her, the warmth of her, the feel of her, has no impact on me. Plastered against me in my vice-like hold, she can certainly feel how ‘not’ impacted I am.

She shivers slightly. Good. I’m not the only one.

“I think there is a threat there somewhere you lost track of, Quinn.” Her breath feathers the skin around my collar, and I take a deep breath to stop myself from bending her over my knee and teaching her a lesson.

But my unhinged thoughts aside, my lips quirk up. Fuck, she’s refreshing.

“Make no mistake, The Morrigan,” I repeat. “I have something to gain here, and I won’t let your daddy issues fuck it up for me. You don’t want to be on my bad side. Your teeth are not sharp enough for that. So let’s keep this amicable before I put that mouth of yours to better use. You owe me a favor.”

I didn’t sell the Hudson River property to her brother to hold it over her head, but I’m not above doing it either.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her cheeks a beautiful pink color. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“We’ll see about that.” I smirk.

I lean back, not letting go of her yet. Gently, I tuck a strand behind her ear, and she shivers again, her lips trembling.

The heat in her eyes has a very different temperature than the angry glare she’s been rewarding me with since I arrived.

There might not be media here yet, but I lower my lips to her hair, inhaling. Lavender and sin—I wish I could bottle her scent and take it with me.

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