Page 35 of The Devil's Deceit
“Grace, wait.” I break into a sprint, easily catching up to her before I clasp her upper arm and pull her to a stop. “I’m shocked, that’s all. I didn’t expect you to say anything like that. I thought you’d called me here to tell me you didn’t want to see me again.”
“Not see you again?” She lowers her chin, shaking her head. “Christian, it’s the thought of not seeing you again that made me do… that.”
Lust, hot and sudden, races through me. I raise her chin, and the second her luminous eyes meet mine, I’m a goner. I slide a hand around the back of her neck and smash my lips to hers. She groans, parting her lips, letting me inside to explore her. And I do. Thoroughly. Her breasts press against my chest, and if we were anywhere other than on a public street, I’d have my hands full of them right this minute.
We break apart, my lungs burning, chest heaving. Grace’s lips are swollen, and she dabs them with the tips of her fingers.
“Come back to the coffee shop with me?” I raise it as a question rather than a demand. She’s already spooked by my reaction. “Tell me more about your idea and why you proposed.” I grin. “Literally.”
She hesitates for a moment, then breaks into a smile. “Bet you didn’t expect that when you woke up this morning.”
“Nope.” I thread our fingers together. “It’s not every day a reprobate like me gets a proposal of marriage from an honest-to-goodness Lady.”
Her cheeks flush with color at my compliment, and she looks at the ground. She’s a dichotomy. One minute, she’s brimming with confidence, and the next, she’s crawled into her shell. Which version is the real Lady Grace Ambrose?Although I’m fucking attracted to both of them, so what does it matter?
I coax her back to the coffee shop. Our drinks are still on the table, and I pull out Grace’s chair for her, then take my own.
“Why would you propose marriage?”
“Because.” She lifts her right shoulder in a half shrug. “You don’t want to get married.”
I chuckle, and as she realizes what she said, she laughs, too. “Yes, I’m aware how daft that sounds, but hear me out.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Okay.” She wraps her hands around her mug and leans forward. “You like your life the way it is, correct? Free to come and go as you please. Date anyone you choose. Bachelor forever, yes?”
“I mean… I hoped my life would stay like that, but deep down I always knew my time to marry would come. It’s the De Vil way. We’ve entered into arranged marriages for centuries. I don’t like it, but there’s no escaping my duty to take a wife of my father’s choosing.”
“Then, we make it so he chooses… me.”
My mouth falls open, then snaps shut. “You?”
She gives me a crooked smile and another shoulder pop. “I’m not naïve, Christian. I get that you’re attracted to me now, but that’s unlikely to last forever, and that’s fine by me. I’m not looking for anything long-term, either. We enjoy each other until whatever this is fades. As your wife, I won’t stand in the way of anyone you want to date. You’d be free to live your life anyway you see fit, and I’d be free to do the same.”
I frown. “And what would you get out of it?”
She rubs her lips together. “Financial security.”
“Money? This is about money?”
Her cheek pops as she runs her tongue along it. “You’ve never been short of cash, Christian, but let me tell you, there’s no honor in being poor. It sucks. Did you know that more than fifty percent of people in this country are one month away from losing everything? All it takes is for them to lose their job, and that’s it. Most have no savings to fall back on. They’re living day to day, month to month, trying to keep up with the rate of inflation while their wages continue to stagnate. It doesn’t show grit or determination to be able to survive being poor. All it does is grind you down.”
The shame that coats my skin is like being dunked into slime. She’s right. I’ve never been poor. I’ve never had to worry about where my next meal is coming from or how to make rent. I’m so far removed from the realities of most people’s lives. Sure, we’re big employers, and we donate to charity and try to help those who deserve it, but I will never be able to walk in the shoes of someone like Grace, and that makes me incredibly privileged.
Here I am, wallowing in the guilt of the building collapse and running around trying to cover my fuck up. Meanwhile, Grace is living hand to mouth and mourning the loss of her sole parent.
“De Vils don’t get divorced, Grace. If we could pull this off—and that’s a big if—that’s it. You’re tied to me for life. And like you say, as strong as our attraction is, the early stages of every relationship are driven by lust. Once that fades, are you truly going to be happy being stuck with me for the rest of your days?”
Give her credit, she takes the time to consider what I’ve said, staring into her coffee cup and absentmindedlytapping her fingers on the side. At least a minute of silence passes before she lifts her head and locks gazes with me.
“The peace of knowing I won’t struggle to make ends meet is priceless, Christian.Priceless.I’ve never seen myself marrying for love. A marriage of convenience is the perfect solution.”
“You say that now, but you’re only twenty-two. Things change. People change. And what about kids? Whomever I marry, kids are expected. Not right away but eventually. Could you really have children with someone you’re not in love with?”
“I’m not saying I have all the answers—I don’t. There are definitely things for us to talk about and think through. As for kids, being in love does not guarantee a happy home. Lots of people get married for love, have kids, then end up hating each other and making those poor babies miserable. At least with us we’d have mutual respect. We’d know how and why we got into this, and any children that did come along would at least have two parents who were friendly with one another. That’s more than many get.”
I can’t fault her logic, but my mind is spinning.
