I struggled not to lose my temper. “I told you already—”
He moved closer. Calvin was like a panther—beautiful and deadly, and all kinds of wrong for me.
“And I told you, Robyn, I don’t give a damn what you want.”
My jaw snapped shut. I took two deep breaths to keep myself from screaming at him. I didn’t need this right now—not today, not on one of the worst days of my life.
I had too many mixed emotions coursing through my veins, and Calvin was the worst of it all.
The letters were like a jackhammer in my brain. Each word stung, and each word enticed. I pulled them from my drawer every night and drank it down like poison, reading them again and again as I slipped my hand between my legs and writhed, heart pounding with hate and lust—
He came closer. Calvin was beautiful in all the ways I hated. Perfect and clean.
But beneath that facade, I knew something rotten grew deep.
“I have a proposition for you.”
I tilted my chin up. “You have nothing I want.”
“What if I said I could make sure your father was never released from prison?”
I tried not to show my shock. I knew Calvin had connections, but this seemed like one step too far.
And yet I drifted nearer. I spoke quieter. I stared into his eyes, feeling a disgusting eagerness take shape.
“How?”
One word. One question to damn me to hell.
“Don’t worry about how. Just know that it can be done. Ten years isn’t such a long time, my little bird.”
I bristled at the nickname. He knew I hated it. He used it anyway.
“What do you want in exchange?” I was wary now. Calvin could do a lot of things, but they all came at a cost.
I was afraid I couldn’t afford him.
“I need your help. You know that my father’s been sick?”
I nodded slowly. Only because of his letters. The Solar family was notoriously private, despite dripping with intergenerational wealth.
“You said it was bad.”
“And getting worse. I’m afraid he won’t be around for long, and there are a lot of loose ends that need tying up before he goes.”
“I’m not sure how I can help with that.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching me, studying me. Calvin was like that—so observant, so serious.
Sometimes I wanted to peek below his surface and see what made him move.
“My family isn’t normal. Our world is based on tradition and formality. It has helped keep us in power for as long as we have, and my father insists that all the correct forms are followed.”
“Once he’s gone, what will it matter?”
“He’ll still have some control.” He spoke bitterly and looked away. “There’s one thing you can do for me. One thing that will make this transition much easier. And if you agree, I’ll make sure your father never leaves prison.”
“What?” I whispered, so afraid of what he was about to say.
“Give me an heir.” He stared at me, eyes dark and foreboding. “Become my wife.”
I took a step back. “You’re joking.”
“My father won’t let me inherit control of the business until I am married and my wife is pregnant. Until that time, his advisors and trusted partners will keep control. I have no power until—” He stopped himself, eyes blazing. “I have no power until you’re my wife and filled with my child.”
“No,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
He was offering me something many women would die for. The chance to join the Solar family alone was worth the price of marrying him—though I knew that price was a low one, considering how handsome and popular and rich he was. On top of that, he was offering to keep my father locked up, which I wanted so desperately it hurt.
And yet I couldn’t do it. Calvin scared me, terrified me really—those letters burned in my chest like hot coals.
“You don’t have to answer now.”
“I can’t marry you.”
He came closer. “You will.”
“There are a thousand girls that would gladly throw themselves at you.”
“And there’s only one you.” He stopped his advance. “I’ll give you a week to say yes.”
“And if I don’t?”
He tilted his head. “I dare you to find out.”
Without another word, he turned and walked away. I watched him go, stomach churning, hands shaking.
One week to say yes. And if I didn’t—
I thought of the letters. All those explicit, filthy letters.
I hated him for them. Loved him too.
“Where’d Calvin go?”
I jumped and turned. Mom stood there, frowning at the hallway.
“He left,” I said and my voice sounded shaky.