Page 39 of Malicious Wedding

“No,” he says firmly. “We don’t need one.”

“Now that’s just bad planning. I could divorce you in a few months and take you for all you’re worth.”

“I have very good lawyers.”

“Fine, okay, what about sleeping arrangements? Do I really get an entire wing of your house?”

“You’ll move into my home in the city.”

“No mansion?” I frown slightly. “I was looking forward to a mansion.”

He throws his hands up. “You want a mansion? I will buy you a fucking castle, my sweet obsession, now will you please come with me?”

“What side of the bed do you sleep on?”

He snarls. “The middle. Will you start moving?”

“Can’t sleep in the middle with two people in your bed.”

“My bed is very big.” He steps toward me, menacing, oozing impatient rage and silken sexuality. I’m getting all flustered but messing with him is too much fun.

“Do you have enough closet space for me? What about shower schedules? I use a lot of hot water. Do you think—”

He tries to grab me again, but I step back out of his reach, grinning to myself. Carson’s losing his damn mind right now and I’m starting to like this temporary power I have over him.

“Stop delaying. Start walking. Right now.”

“I’m not finished,” I say sweetly. “I want a contract with the money stuff in writing. How much I get, how much Smoke gets, money for my employees, for renovations, for retirement plans—”

“Name the damn price and my lawyer will ensure it happens,” he growls at me, practically vibrating with impatient rage. “You are killing me right now.”

“And honestly? I’m having a great time.” I beam at him. “What about—”

He doesn’t let me finish. Before I can so much as whimper in shock, he grabs me, hoists me up into the air, throws me over his shoulder, and begins half walking, half jogging to the back garden.

“You arenotjust carrying me like a freaking bag to my own wedding,” I say, pounding on his back. I might as well spit into the wind for all it’s doing. “Carson! Put me down!”

“No,” he says. “I’m done talking.”

“What about babies? We haven’t discussed babies yet.”

He slows, stops, and lowers me down.

I brush myself off, trying to regain some dignity. I’m a little surprised the whole baby thing gets this much of his attention, but I’m also fairly pleased. In the distance, I spot two men standing underneath a decorative arch set up beside a small pond in the middle of a grassy patch. Bees and butterflies flit between the flowers. Shit, it’s really pretty, like a Disney wedding.

But I have a beast to tame first.

“What. About. Babies?” His jaw ticks, glaring death at me.

“Do you want them?”

“Yes.” He lets out a breath. “I do.”

My ovaries burst into flame. Fuck, the idea of himwanting childrenmakes my entire body hum with a low, keening need.

“How many?” I manage to ask.

“Five.”

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