Page 5 of Forbidden Noble
The perfect vengeance on his father wasn’t giving up all his money. He took her hand. “Clara, will you marry me?”
She didn’t pull away. “Who’s the Baroness de Dona?”
“You.” He traced her soft skin on her wrist as her fingers couldn’t hide that she worked too hard.
Together their lives had just changed.
If she agreed to be his wife.
She just blinked but then shook her head as she said, “Me? You must be mistaken.”
Lightning flashed outside their windows with an ocean view, followed closely by thunder as if they were in the middle of the storm. The ambiance echoed the truth. “This news hit me like lightning too.”
More lights blinked, and echoed with such a loud boom that the room shook. Clara asked, almost too quietly, “What does it mean?”
If she agreed to marry him then he had a better way to kick his father’s casket--metaphorically speaking, as it had been buried six feet under long ago. He met her gaze and said, “Marrying you would be fitting revenge, and then I get to keep my money.”
She took her hand back and tucked it close to her chest like she needed to hug herself. “What are you saying?”
How could she possibly know what had happened? He'd had no intention of telling her, even for her book. He motioned toward the blue chaise. She sat and he joined her, though it was a tight fit--he didn’t care. Not now, when things were about to change again. “My father was refused by your mother, which was why he became a traitor to Avce and eventually killed my mom. If I marry you, it’s… almost like I… win and he loses.”
Clara lowered her head, staring at her lap like she thought long and hard. She didn’t move at all. For a moment the light was at war with the sound outside the ocean-view windows. If she said no, or the ship went down, he wouldn't have to worry anymore.
Finally she parted her lips to ask, “And do I get money in this deal?”
His heart stirred. Watching her enjoy the finer things this past two weeks had made him realize how well he'd been taken care of. He nodded. “Yes, and I’ll ensure no one named Max ever comes near you.”
She laughed and the softness in her voice calmed the storm inside him as it lessened outside as well. “He didn’t seem that bad…I’m not that interesting of a date.”
His shoulders tightened. Clara was no match for bad people like Max. Good thing that Gibraltar was the closest thing in Europe to offer the American Vegas-style wedding. This could be done fast but that didn’t mean it needed to be cheap. He took out his phone. “I’m texting my secretary to set this up for us. Do you need to buy a dress?”
Her face was whiter than usual as she said, “I’d like a shower and to wash my matted hair before I marry anyone.”
Did she not want to do this? He corrected her. “Marryme.”
“Yes, marry you.” Her cheeks flushed and she picked up her foot to show him a faded pink shoe. “I’d like to not wear my muddy sneakers.”
Right. She’d been trekking to the rock while he'd bought the phones, umbrellas, and wine. He stood fast. “Then I’ll have my secretary send up a dressmaker and shoes. Can you be ready in two hours?”
She stood with him and he noticed the goosebumps on her arm as she said, “So no wine? I thought we'd come here to have a second bottle.”
“After,” he said, though he’d send her a case of wine if she wanted it.
Clara Fortuna was the only woman in the world that he'd ever wanted to marry, to be truthful.
She licked her lips but let out a sigh. “I have no idea what really changed your mind just now.”
And she didn’t believe his story about her being an heiress. Fair. He headed to his room to make all the arrangements, pausing to knock on the wood of the doorframe. “Listen to your voicemails from your friend, Rossie.”
She followed him and saw that his room was identical to hers. “Even if Rossie confirms I’m some baroness de whatever you said, that doesn’t explain your abrupt change from hoping to be penniless like me, to now wanting to save me. There must be more to it.”
He stilled. Wine. Explaining. This wasn’t the signs of full-speed ahead. “Are you stalling because you're being too polite to tell me no now?”
She stepped backwards but then came forward and shook her head. “I’m… I’m not. I’ll marry you. Just give me ten minutes.”
Good. He’d handle the paperwork while she showered. Her damp hair was tangled from the rain as she hadn't waited for the umbrella he'd bought. “I’ll need your passport to get the license.”
She marched back to her room and unzipped her bag. The lightning and thunder had just passed through. Clara returned and handed him her blue book. “Part of me wonders if this is all some dream but then you say things like ‘passport.’”
