Page 23 of Last Shot at Love

My biggest surprise had been that for such a savvy businesswoman, she’d failed to request a prenup to protect her assets. Maybe there was a romantic part of her buried deep down that believed in lifelong love.

“What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?” Her fingers brushed across her cheekbone before trying to pat down the stray locks that had come loose from her tight, no-nonsense bun.

“Here, let me.” Leaning forward, I undid the coil, allowing her long, dark-blonde hair to cascade wildly around her face.

The gentle waves of her hair added a soft vulnerability to her face. My heart thudded painfully. I’d never seen a woman as stunning as the one sitting in front of me.

I’d come to shore to find a person who was willing to be mine and with the determination to make her fall in love with me. There was nothing I wanted more than to be the type of man she could fall in love with.

My only type when it came to a mate was that she had a kind heart.

Whether she was thin or curvy, tall or short, red-headed or blonde—none of that mattered to me. Not even her species mattered to me. I knew my heart would have found my mate beautiful no matter who the agency had matched me with… but Beryl had a type of beauty that I didn’t believe existed outside of paintings.

She was the type of woman who could pick from any man on earth by wiggling a finger. So why was she willing to be matched by P-Harmony? How could I make a woman like her fall in love with me when she’d likely been wooed by men from the moment she’d turned eighteen?

Beryl flipped on the bedside lamp, reminding me of the hour.

“I don’t know why I’m so anxious over all this.” She reached for a folder on the bed. “It’s a simple partnership agreement which requires an understanding of what both parties bring to the table, how the assets will be distributed, and a working plan to make the partnership a success.”

Beryl spread a document in front of me on the bed. I quickly scanned it, recognizing it as the marital contract we’d already agreed on.

“I know you already signed, but I want to make sure there are no issues you haven’t voiced before this goes any further.” She spun a gold-tipped fountain pen between her fingers, her piercing green eyes studying my face.

“Beryl, I have zero issues with the agreement. I’m looking forward to seeing your home and having you show me your city,” I reassured her.

Beryl grabbed a notepad and scribbled a note. “Yes, of course! I’ll have my assistant hire a guide to show you around.”

While I’d refused to accept the full brief on my future mate from the agency, they’d felt it necessary to ensure I understood ahead of time that my mate was a highly driven, quick-witted, business-oriented woman.

After meeting her, I could read between the lines of P-Harmony’s emails and understand what they’d been trying to warn me about.

Rather than wanting to talk to me, Beryl was flipping through business documents. She definitely wasn’t looking for romance. Which was the opposite of my reason for signing with P-Harmony, and there was no denying the twinge of disappointment that pierced my heart at the realization.

I refused to regret my decision. This simply meant I had the opportunity to show my mate how wonderful losing your heart could be.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be her first love.

My chest filled with hope and desperate longing at that thought. Yes, I would spend my life trying to sweep my gorgeous mate off her feet.

It was going to be a challenge, but I was ready. I could already tell she’d be worth it.

“Or perhaps you could show me around yourself?” I kept my tone light and teasing, not wanting her to feel pressured.

“Um, maybe?” Beryl chewed her lip. “I’ll have to check my work schedule once we return to the city, but I should be able to pencil some time in.”

I had to admit, the last comment stung a little. She viewed me as a burden rather than her companion.

Patience, Cerulean. She doesn’t understand how pleasurable spending time with a lover and a friend can be, I reminded myself, taking a calming breath.

Beryl pulled out a checklist, her manicured fingertip sliding down the page and her pouty lips moving as she silently read over the items before checking several things off.

“Okay, the last thing I wanted to bring up is a prenup.” She turned to me. “Since you’ve willingly agreed to all the terms I laid out, I didn’t think a prenup was necessary. And I accept that if we divorce, you will get 50 percent of my companies, stocks, properties, and other assets.”

I shifted positions until my back was against the headboard, and I was sitting beside her. Every fiber of my being and beast longed to scoot closer until our thighs touched, but I didn’t want to risk crowding Beryl or making her uncomfortable.

“I’m fine with no prenup. Beryl, you’ll be my mate. What I have is yours. Besides, there won’t be a divorce.”

The vampire bombshell next to me shrugged. “Maybe it’s that way in the sea, but on land, people divorce with the same regularity as buying a new car. Even among paranormals, divorce has grown more common.”

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