Page 68 of Intense
I frown, confused, and let him take it. He turns my palm down, and my heart stops.
There, glinting under the Vegas sunlight, is a massive diamond on a silver band.
“Finn. Tell me we did not?—”
Memories come crashing in.
Joking about getting married. Laughing. Drinking. Dancing.
No. No. No.
He pulls his hand out from under the covers.
A platinum band sits proudly on his tatted finger.
I slap a hand over my mouth.
“Finn. You’re fucking with me. You just... put these on for a joke, right?”
His expression is stone.
His eyes, dark fire.
“No, I really didn’t.” He pauses. “Mrs. Quinn.”
He smirks. Like he just won the goddamn lottery.
“No. No. No.” I jump off the bed, pacing like a lunatic. “Finn! What have we done?!”
“Stephanie, calm down. It’s fine.”
“Fine?!Fine?!They’re legally binding marriages here, you psycho!”
I yank at the ring, but the second I do, a growl erupts from him.
“Dr. Stephanie Quinn.”
His voice is sharp and commanding.
He stands, stepping toward me like he’s stalking prey.
I forget how to breathe. Fuck, he’s sexy.
“That ring stays on your finger.”
“Are you still drunk?” I snap.
He leans in. Close enough to smell. Dangerous enough to destroy me.
“No. You lost the challenge. My reward... is you.”
My hangover evaporates in an instant.
I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. Just grins, infuriatingly smug.
“Annul our marriage, rich boy.”
He runs a hand over his stubble. And then he just fucking shrugs.
