7. Paolo

CHAPTER 7

PAOLO

“ M arry you?!” Chloe half-shrieks.

I open my mouth and close it again. I mean, it wasn’t as negative a response as I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t a resounding yes.

What had I really been expecting her to say to that, anyway? There’s no way asking like that was going to work. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but I guess I was just high on emotion.

Sure, we’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours, but I like Chloe. A lot. I know even now that I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

I still should have asked more tactfully.

With a sigh, I say, “Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but… well… will you just hear me out?”

She raises both eyebrows as if to suggest that I’ve only got a handful of seconds to make this stop sounding totally insane before she’s going to walk out of here forever.

I decide not to beat around the bush any more than I already have.

“Okay. I know this looks like I’m just trying to use you or whatever, but I swear I’m not. I mean, how weird would it have been to have deliberately searched someone out just to ask them to marry me?” I let out an awkward laugh as I feel my web of lies start to constrict around my throat.

And she still doesn’t look impressed.

“Ha ha,” I chuckle, then continue. “No. The truth is, I’ve actually been looking for a green card for ages because, as I said, I’m a citizen of Bellamare and I work here in the US, and they’ve been really funny about giving me a visa. And the thing, is if you’re a citizen of Bellamare… well, that means that we could just get married under Bellamare terms — and that would make my marriage legal, both there and here, and it will give us both the benefits of dual citizenship.”

She frowns, her lips running into a thin line. I feel like I’m losing her. “I already have dual citizenship.”

It takes all my strength not to slap my hands over my face and groan. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up in a different way. I promise I’m smoother than this really.”

“Really?” she asks dubiously.

I must look utterly ridiculous right now. Ridiculous and pathetic, here in my towel, my hair wet and all my dignity lying in pieces on the floor.

Without thinking, I reach out for her hands, but she flinches away, so I drop my hands to my side. Time to try something else. “I do think you’re pretty, Chloe,” I say. “I know I don’t know you very well at all, but I do feel an attraction towards you. That, I promise you, is real. If you’d let me, I’ll take you out on as many dates as you want. Hell, I won’t even make you promise forever . I just really need to not get deported in the next few months.”

“You really think you’ve got lucky here, don’t you?” She narrows her eyes, and I bite my tongue to stop myself making a coarse joke. That won’t help at all right now. But for all her suspicions, she’s still not running. “It’s a hell of a coincidence,” she says like she’s mulling it over. Then she adds, “You really think I’m pretty?”

I nod, grinning. Finally, this conversation is turning back into something I’m good at. “Oh, yes. In fact, I would go as far as to say radiant, gorgeous, and wonderful. I’ve met a lot of women in my life. I’ve liked quite a lot of women. But with you there’s something I just can’t explain. Every time I look at you, it’s like there’s a spark of something inside me. Something that makes me never want to take my eyes off you.”

She blushes, dipping her head as she stares down at the floor. Maybe that was a little too strong. But flattery is all I’ve got left to make her forget how utterly, utterly ridiculous this entire scheme is.

“Plus,” I add, stepping forwards. This time she doesn’t resist as I take her hand. “There are a hell of a lot of pretty women out there who are really terrible in bed. You’re not one of them. Not that that’s make-or-break in a relationship of course, but it’s definitely a plus.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says, blinking up at me through her eyelashes.

I smile. “So, you’ll do it?”

“Marry you?” she says, tensing.

“Yes. Why not?”

“I can think of like three or four hundred reasons why not.”

“But none of them are that I’m not hot, right?”

She laughs, pulling her hands away, leaving me cold like I’ve just lost a vital part of something. “No. None of them are that you’re not hot.”

“Then what?” I push, stepping towards her. I don’t want to force anything — if she rejects me hard, I’ll back off — but while she’s wavering, I’ve got to try. “Would it really be so bad? It’s just paperwork. I’m not asking for a white wedding.”

“What if that’s what I want?”

“Then I’d give it to you.”

“Really?” she says, folding her arms defiantly as she stares up at me. “Why? As you say, you barely know me. Why would you do this for a stranger?”

I meet her eyes and stare deep into them. “Tell me you feel nothing between us. Look at me and tell me truthfully if you feel nothing.”

She stares back, her mouth open, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s the closest I’m going to get to a confession.

“Exactly. I’m not asking for love. I’m just asking you to help me out. And maybe we can see what happens from there.”

A long silence passes between us, the air crackling with a tension that I can’t name — half lust, half confusion, and one hundred percent uncertainty.

And her expression isn’t changing. I’m losing her.

Suddenly, I don’t know which idea is worse. Losing my chance to go home, or losing her completely.

“I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars!” I blurt, then wince. I should have brought that up more smoothly as well.

Chloe’s eyes open wide as she processes what I said. “You’ll do what ?”

“A hundred thousand. I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars as compensation for having to put up with me. The marriage, it’ll just be a formality. I’m not asking for a ceremony, none of that pomp and circumstance. I just need the piece of paper. I promise we can take our actual relationship as slowly as you want, and if you don’t want it, we can leave it at that. I’m not trying to force anything weird on you, I promise. I just need something, and you can help me get it.”

“A hundred thousand dollars…” she echoes. “Seriously?”

“Take it or leave it,” I say, offering my hand to her.

If she says no this time, I’ll drop it.

My heart leaps into my mouth as she looks up at me again.

“This is crazy,” she says quietly. But then she takes my hand. “Okay. What the hell. I’ll marry you.”