Only Christmas

“I have found one.”

I let out a small gasp. “Then maybe I shouldn't be on your lap! You kissed me, you big old jerk cheater!” I push on his chest, trying to get off his lap. Those tears I’d felt when he stormed out of the bedroom earlier come rushing back.

“Stop trying to get away from me,” he growls, his hold tightening on me even more. “It’s you, angel. I found you. You’re going to be my wife by the end of day.”

I stop trying to fight my way off his lap as his words begin to sink in. There is no way I heard him correctly. Right? Because I could have sworn he just said that he and I were going to get married by the end of today.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“But…” I trail off.

“You need someone to take care of you, and I need a wife. Done deal.” I wait for him to laugh or something, but he doesn’t. Marco sits quietly for the first time since he entered the room.

“You’re asking me to marry you?” I finally say, wanting to make sure I’m getting this right. Why is this so tempting? I really must have lost my mind now.

“I didn’t ask.” My mouth falls open.

“What if I say no?”

“You’re not going to, and again, I’m not asking.” His face is unreadable, giving me nothing.

“The judge is coming. You might want to get dressed,” Marco says to me after his phone dings.

“Now? You want to get married right this moment? Is that even possible?” I thought there was paperwork or all kinds of things to be done before you could get married.

“Anything is possible when you’re as rich as I am.” He stands with me in his arms, putting me on my feet.

“I can’t do this.” It feels wrong. I don’t even know him. We’re not in love. My mom had gotten married a few times. It was a mess each time. She never loved them. She was only trying to use them to see what she could get. When she couldn’t get anything from them anymore, she moved on. I always vowed that I would never be like her. That if I ever married it would be to someone I loved.

“You can and you will.”

“But—”

“Angel, don’t make me force this.” He walks over and picks up my notebook I’d gone to grab and give him last night, handing it over to me.

“Are you blackmailing me?” I hold it to my chest. Inside it’s filled with things I’ve taken from the hotel with the intent to one day pay for.

“I want you to marry me. Not only because it will benefit me publicly and with my family but because I want you, and I think you want me too.” He reaches out, cupping my cheek. I find myself leaning into his touch. I should be mad and batting it away, but there is something about him I can’t stay away from. Even in my sleep. “You’ll never want for anything.”

That’s not true. He means I’ll never want for material things. There is so much more to want beyond that. The things that are truly important in life, but I have a feeling Hunter knows nothing about those things.

“Okay,” I find myself agreeing.

What do I really have to lose at this point?

Besides myself.

9

Hunter

“Does the suit look okay?” I ask Marco, ignoring one of his questions.

I’ve been doing it for the past hour. He’s been trying to talk me out of this, but I’ve made up my mind. There is no going back. The papers he wants me to have signed by Aspen lie unread on the table, all but forgotten. Except for the annoyance I have when I see them. She’s not signing anything but a damn marriage certification. I’m not trying to spook her. I’m still surprised I got her to agree to any of this.

Call me crazy, but I don’t think Aspen is a girl that can be easily bought. It’s clear she’d rather work for her money. That she wants something more. That list she’d been keeping of what she owed the hotel all but proved that. She doesn’t want to take anything from anyone.

I’m guessing a lot has been taken from her in life, and she never wants to do the same to anyone. I know she’s a rare kind of woman, and I’m not walking away from that. No, I’m grabbing it up before someone else tries to get to her. She’s mine. And today when I slip that ring on her finger, everyone will know it.

“Seriously?” he responds.

I glance in the mirror and pull at my tie to redo it. I can put on a tie in my sleep, but for some reason, I can’t get it right now. When it fucking matters. I’m sure she’ll want a few pictures. Wouldn’t she? I would like a few to keep. I’m not sure what I’ll do with them, but it seems important.