Page 13 of Princess of Pride
“Thanks.” My gaze falls to his bare chest. He’s still shirtless, and I am incapable of willpower.
“That’s good,” he says stealing my attention from his chiseled abs.
“What is?”
“The way you keep staring at me like you want to fuck me.”
My mouth falls open, and heat rushes my cheeks. I can’t believe he just said that. I can’t believe I’ve been that obvious. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve never been this close to this much man-flesh.”
“Never?” he asks with disbelief. “Not even your ex-fiancé.”
“Not for this long. And he didn’t look like...” A sculpted god with sexy tattoos. “It doesn’t matter.” I wave away the topic, but I can’t take my eyes from his chest and how his abs flex with each breath. I also can’t stop from licking my bottom lip.
His phone rings from his pocket. My gaze jumps to it and then to Lachlan’s face. He’s not moving to answer it.
His jaw muscles are flexed again, his eyes stirring withsomething.
“Go now, Emery.” The warning is clear in his tone. He removes his phone and walks away.
I shuffle from the room, holding his delicious smelling jacket closed and tight to my chest. I might sleep with it as a blanket. Too bad the man who wears this cologne has the personality of Mr. Darcy before you learn he has a good side.
3
IT’S MY UTERUS
When I enter Dad’s huge home office the next morning, everyone is already seated at the conference table.
I’m on time, but I feel like I’m late.
In front of the four men, and the empty seat for me, are tablets along with stapled documents and file folders.
My dad sits between his lawyer and Lachlan. A man I’ve never seen is on Lachlan’s right. They all wear suits, and their eyes are alert as if they’ve been working for hours even though it’s only 9 a.m.
Dad notices my outfit and smiles with approval. I’m in a white A-line peasant dress with French inspired buttons and lace trim. Mom picked it out for this occasion—something she’s had for a while apparently. It’s demure with a hemline that stops three inches above the knee. My hair is swept away from my face with a big white bow but left down and long in back.
Hair bows are all the rage right now. Mom wouldn’t have me looking out of trend on the day she delivers me to my new husband like a sacrificial lamb.
Lachlan’s eyes fall upon me, raking over me from head totoe. His expressionless face gives nothing away. For all I know, he’s mocking my outfit in his head.
“Take a seat.” Dad gestures to the spot next to his lawyer. I do, and he continues, “We’ve gone through everything and agree. All that’s left is for you and Lachlan to sign.”
“Shouldn’t I be able to have a look at the contracts? It is my life.”
Dad’s eyes narrow. “It’s the same terms as Pippa’s arrangement with a slight amendment, per your discussion with Lachlan yesterday. I disagree with giving you full rights to your trust fund, but he’s assured me you two have an understanding.”
I try not to look surprised even as flutters of excitement and shock race through me. He made my trust fund mine legally? He kept his word. I hoped he would and assumed he’d open an account with the money in my name once we’re married. The fact that he made it known to my father is a huge plus in him earning my trust.
I smile kindly at him. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t smile in return, just gives me an expressionless nod.
Stoic is better than the supercilious men Dad previously chose for me. Men I felt no attraction to, yet who leered at me like predators, making my skin crawl. I shiver.
“Cold?” Lachlan asks, surprising me that he noticed or cares.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“We’re all fine.” Dad smacks his hands together loudly. “Let’s get started.”
