Chapter 12

The fates have a dark, twisted sense of humor.

The thought whispers through my mind as I stare at her in shock.

The beguiling woman who has stolen my focus during the day and haunted my dreams at night for the last two months is the woman I’m supposed to marry.

What the fuck.

She took a piece of me with her when she got into the sedan that night, a car I called for her because I knew if I took her home, I would never let her go. And that was before I, in a weak and impulsive moment, kissed her on the pier with the sunrise shining around us.

The kiss obliterated my soul. It felt like coming home after being marooned on an island or reclaiming something precious I’d once lost. Every atom in my body vibrated for the woman I held in my arms, attuned to her every breath, every moan, every gasp.

I knew then, as I know now, I have to stay away from her.

Because of the curse.

Because…if I fail, then she dies.

And that is unfathomable.

Now, Belle , as she told me to call her in our email correspondence, stands before me seemingly as shell-shocked as I am, her beautiful lips parted on a gasp.

I am to marry her.

Sydney’s lifeless face shifts into my consciousness and I flinch, the coffee I consumed moments ago threatening to make a reappearance.

I can’t marry her. She’s the last person on this planet I can marry .

She’s the only person I’d ever want to marry.

Madness. I don’t know the reason for these insane thoughts. You’ve been in her presence for only a few hours.

Nothing makes sense. Logic doesn’t seem to pierce through the dark veil.

“Silas, is it you?”

I shake myself, my eyes greedily absorbing every beautiful inch of her—her thick, black hair curled in luscious waves, draped over her shoulder, her petite body poured into a cream silk dress which hugs her perfect curves.

“Maxwell Angus Silas Anderson, at your service, Ms. Anna belle Law-McKenzie.”

She flinches at whatever she sees on my face, and I knot my hand into a tight fist to stop myself from striding over and pulling her into my arms again.

Irrational impulses. Madness swirling in my mind.

I’m going insane.

I unclench my hand and extend it to her, watching as her fingers tremble slightly before she slips her hand into mine.

A sharp current sizzles between us at our point of contact, and I take a quick breath.

“Did you know who I was that night?” she asks as she quickly withdraws her hand and hides it behind her back.

“No. Had I known, I would’ve never let you stay in the car.”

Her tawny eyes darken in apparent pain, and I want to punch myself for hurting her. She opens her mouth to ask more, but I hold out my hand to stop her.

“Ms. Law-McKenzie, I’m sorry, I cannot go through with this. I can’t marry you.”

Belle staggers back half a step, her face scrunched in confusion. “What? Why?”

Picking up my phone from the table, I stride toward the door, eager to flee from her, from this forbidden woman who makes me want to spend days upon days painting her face on canvas, dancing to Puccini in the halls of my home, marveling at strange, obscure colors, and saying yes to adventures.

“M-Maxwell. P-Please stop.”

Her dulcet voice whispering my name has me halting. I turn around, finding her eyes reddening, a wet sheen in them.

She shakes her head, clearly bewildered. “I don’t know what’s going on or how you ended up being the man I’m supposed to marry. Or why you’re treating me this way when that night we shared was the best night of my life.”

My heart skips another traitorous beat at her admission.

She continues, “But I need this arrangement.” She takes a deep breath, as if fortifying herself, and looks up. “My family needs it…for McKenzie Atelier a-and because I want to have—”

She stops herself.

“What do you want to have?” I want to give her everything. I want all her smiles and kisses. I want to know every facet of her.

But I can’t. I have to say no.

Belle swallows, her skin turning into an alluring shade of pink. “Our family needs this arrangement, and I’d rather it be you than a stranger.”

Blistering anger chars my chest at the sudden thought of her with another man, someone else getting to hold her in his arms, to taste those sweet lips I’ve been craving for ever since that night, to listen to her adventures as she grabs life by the balls.

“No.”

I’ll strangle anyone who lays a hand on her. Destroy him. The disturbing thought comes out of nowhere.

“What do you mean, no ?”

“You can’t marry anyone else. I won’t allow it.”

The hurt in her eyes recedes and is replaced with anger. She straightens and crosses her arms over her chest. “You won’t allow it?”

“No. I’ll ruin anyone who comes near you.”

“ What! That’s ridiculous. So, you don’t want to marry me, but no one else can either? What kind of sick, twisted person are you?”

Very sick. Very twisted.

Her eyes flash with fury. “For the last month, I’ve dreamed of our night more times than I can count, wishing…wishing I could find you again.”

Her tiny body shakes with passion as she stalks toward me and jabs her finger at my chest. “Apparently, that night was a mirage, an illusion, and I don’t really know who you are. But don’t think you can control me, mister, or you’ll be the one who’s sorry in the end.”

She spins around, moving toward the exit. “I won’t beg for anyone to marry me. If it isn’t you, I’m sure there are plenty of men out there willing to do it.”

I reach out and snag her wrist in my grasp, my fingers tightening automatically.

Don’t leave me.

The words haunt my mind, but what comes out of my lips is a simple, “No.”

She whirls toward me. “What do you want then, Maxwell?”

Staring at my hand covering hers, watching the smattering of goosebumps appearing on her forearm, I reply, “Fine. You want to proceed with the arranged marriage for your family. So be it. Let’s talk terms.”

She wrenches her arm away and gnaws on her lips. “Fine.”

“One year and one child, minimum.” My cock, the fucking organ which has been lifeless for the past year, twitches in my pants as I imagine trying for a child with her.

“I can’t guarantee that…the child.”

“That’s the entire purpose of this arrangement for me.”

“You can’t guarantee that with any woman!” Her face darkens and her hands are now fisted to her sides, her voice rising in volume. “Not everyone can have children of their own! ”

The words echo in the room, the background music long muted by the staff since our meeting started. A suspicious sheen glimmers in her eyes and she looks away, blinking rapidly.

She looks devastated. A fissure forms inside my chest. I want to fix her problems and wipe that expression off her face.

But instead, I say, “The attempt at it is what I’m asking for.”

She sharply inhales. “A-Attempt?”

“Where do you think babies come from? Divine intervention?”

She grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t patronize me. I assume we can go the IVF route.”

“No.”

I’m a damn bastard, because if I’m going to do this, to put myself through this marriage while keeping her at arm’s length, I want to wrench out every morsel of happiness and intimacy from this relationship.

I want an excuse to touch her silky skin, to feel her warmth against me, even if I have to shield my heart from her.

“I’m not opposed to using fertility treatments or adoption, but only after we’ve tried for one year.”

She blanches, her pulse fluttering rapidly in her throat.

“I-If we get pregnant, I want custody of our children after we divorce,” she says.

My chest squeezes at her words, but I ignore it. “No. No children of mine will be fatherless. Fifty, fifty custody, that’s my final offer.”

Her nostrils flare. “Fine.”

I recite the terms I had my lawyer draw up last week. “You’ll get a bonus for every heir you give me, a generous severance package upon divorce if we remain married for more than one year, in addition to the investment I’ll be providing to McKenzie’s.”

Her face darkens with each condition I list out.

“We’ll be sleeping in separate rooms, conducting separate lives. I will require you to accompany me to certain events and also to plan and act as hostess for our upcoming charity gala at the estate.” It’s the first public event I’m hosting—another attempt at winning over the press and the public.

“You will conduct yourself in a manner befitting the position of my wife. There will be no scandals and no affairs.”

Belle snarls. “I see you’ve thought of everything, Your Majesty .” The little kitten has sharp claws, and a flash of pride carves through the tempest of emotions rioting inside me.

She narrows her eyes. “What about you? Am I to sit back and be a good wife while you mess around?”

“I won’t cheat. I never cheat . From the moment we say our vows, I will remain faithful to you.”

The words hang in the silence between us. It’s a somber oath that rings true to the depths of my soul, something I desperately want her to believe, even though she has no cause to think otherwise.

“Belle, fidelity is something I hold core to my values. I won’t cheat, and neither will you.”

Her lips tremble and I see the struggle she’s trying to contain inside her.

Pulling her close, I relish the soft gasp escaping her mouth and blood pools in my groin.

“We’ll be married in October. But make no mistake, this will never be a love match. It will only be a marriage of convenience. You cannot fall in love with me, and I will never, ever be in love with you.”