Marry Me Now: An Arranged Marriage Collection

“Of course I care.” He stands and crosses around his desk, reaching for me.

But I twist out of his reach. “I’m a laughing stock. Everyone here thinks I slept with you to get my job, married my way into it.”

“Who cares what other people think?” He shakes his head.

“I do. I care if my coworkers respect me. I care about my career and being with you has done nothing but jeopardize that at every turn. Ironically, since everyone seems to think it improved it,” I add with a scowl.

He reaches for me again, and again I twist away. “Mara, I’m sorry. I know you’re still mad about what happened this weekend, and you have every right to be.

“Is this what you did last time?” I ask, and now his expression shifts, from concern to confusion. I shake my head, not falling for it. “I know you’ve done all this before. Marriage, annulments.” I grab the ring on my finger and tug at it. “I bet you thrive off the drama, don’t you?”

“That’s not it. Let me explain.”

“Oh, so now you want to tell me everything? Where was this before, when you should’ve been letting me know what the hell I was getting into?” With an effort, I manage to wrench the ring free. Then I gasp in pain, glancing down to find a long, angry red scrape along my finger. Dammit. It must have been swollen from the gloves I was wearing in the workshop earlier this morning. My ring finger throbs, and a streak of blood appears where I scraped the skin raw.

“Stop.” John’s hand closes over mine. I try to pull away, but he holds on, reaching with his free hand to his desk and pulling out a tissue. He cleans away the blood, and I grit my teeth at the way it stings, my eyes focused on the floor, the ceiling. Anywhere but on his face, and his worried expression.

When he’s finished cleaning away the blood, I thrust the ring at him, shoving it against his chest. He reaches up to take it and our fingertips brush. Even now, despite everything, it sends a thrill through me. A shiver that reaches from the nape of my neck all the way down to my toes.

I ignore it.

But as I’m turning to leave, John clears his throat. “This isn’t my first marriage, no.”

I glance up at him, but his gaze is on the floor, far away. Despite myself, I remain standing where I am. A little part of me—okay, a big part of me—wants to hear this. I want to give him the chance to explain what he should have told me from the start.

“Her name was Heather. We’d been dating for almost a year. I trusted her, liked her. Maybe even loved her, I don’t know. I thought I did at the time, but now, looking back, it was all superficial.” He shakes his head. “She just seemed so in sync with me. Seemed to like all the same things I did, wanted to do all the same things. But it was an act.” His jaw hardens. “All she really wanted was my money. She convinced me to marry her. Elope. Small ceremony, not even our families there. That should have been my first clue. Not even three days later, I caught her opening a new bank account in both of our names. Trying to transfer huge amounts of my savings to her own accounts.”

I wince.

“I found out. And I was able to annul the marriage in time. Of course, she responded by going straight to the tabloids with a tell-all sob story about how I cheated on her and broke her heart.” He rolls his eyes. “I hope they paid her well for it. It’s the last time her name is going to be relevant anywhere.”

“How long ago was this?” I murmur.

“Six months.” He shrugs. “Long enough to be old news. I didn’t think it was worth dredging up again. Especially not when all I want to do is forget about that period of my life. My own parents were furious—they thought I should have stayed with Heather, despite everything she did. They think marriage is for life. But I couldn’t stay with someone like that, someone who was only in this for the money. I never wanted to make that mistake again.”

I arch an eyebrow, eyes narrowing. “So why did you run away with a complete stranger, then? If you didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“Are you kidding?” His eyebrows shoot higher. “You’re the exact opposite of her, Mara. You’re everything I never even knew I could find in one woman. You don’t care about money; you care about your career, about doing a job right, about all the things a person ought to put first in life. I admire your fire, your creativity, your passion…” He takes a step closer to me, and this time, I can’t bring myself to move away from him.

He catches my hand and pulls it to his chest, carefully kissing the back of my hand, making sure not to touch my shallow cut again.

“From the moment I met you, I’ve been head over heels for you,” he says, and those words send a bolt of pleasure through my veins, make my breath hitch in my chest. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this. It was selfish, yes. And none of this is your problem to deal with. Not my parents, or their threats—”

“What do you mean, threats?”

John’s face flushes with color. His gaze drops to the floor. “They want a grandchild,” he says.

“I gathered that much,” I mumble.

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. When I started this company, I was so young. I needed a cofounder for loans, to cosign. My father agreed…”

My forehead puckers. “You mean your father owns part of Pitfire?”

He nods. “He’s not involved, not really. But, technically, if he pulled out, or sold his shares, it could force us public, or get another partner involved, someone impossible to work with. There are plenty of ways he could ruin me. And normally he’d never do any of that to his own son, but he and Mom are so obsessed with the idea of carrying on the lineage…”

“You really think he’d do that, if you didn’t give him what he wants?”

John winces and bows his head. It’s answer enough. My stomach churns. But he just shakes his head again. “Like I said, my parents, all of this… it shouldn’t be your concern. I’m sorry to drag you into all this.”

I tighten my grip on his hand. “You’re right,” I say. “It was selfish to drag me into this…” I step closer, and his eyes find mine, pain written all over his face. It’s enough to make my chest ache, and I long to do whatever it takes to wipe that pain from his expression. “You should have let me choose for myself,” I say. “You should have told me everything so I could make my own decision. Because…” I lift his hand to my mouth and kiss the back of his knuckles softly. “I would have chosen to help you,” I murmur softly.

Something flashes in his gaze then. Hope. “You’d have done that for me?”

“I still might.” I arch an eyebrow. “If given the chance.”

I’m not sure what I expect. Whatever it is, it’s not this.

John goes down on one knee before me. My hand is still wrapped in his, and he holds up the ring I just shoved back at him. “Mara, my wife. Let me make this right, please. You know everything now. Give me a real chance to marry you, properly.” A small smile touches his lips. “Sinc

e you don’t really remember the first time, I don’t think it counts.”

My cheeks flush, and I can’t help it. I laugh a little, my gaze fixed on his.

“Mrs. Mara Walloway,” he says, and just the sound of that, of what my name could be if I say yes to this, sends a flutter of excitement through my body, into my belly. I swallow hard around a sudden lump in my throat, not sure where it even came from. “Marry me,” he whispers, and I can’t resist the smile that spreads across my face.

“Well,” I whisper, “if you insist.”

He laughs, and I tighten my grip on his hand, and he rises, pulling me against him. Our lips crash together, and I swear he tastes even better than I remember, as he reaches up to cup the back of my head, pulling me closer to him, his lips parting mine and his tongue slipping between my lips, exploring my mouth, soft and slow and searing all at once.

I shut my eyes, and I sink into his kiss. Into my husband’s arms.

11

John

I check the clock. Only five minutes have passed. I could have sworn it had been about a million hours. But time always seems to crawl at moments like this—at times when all I want to do is be with Mara again. I’ve been working overtime tonight, the same way I had to three times already this week. Normally Mara would be doing the same, and I could sneak away down to the shop to distract her from her current project… But tonight she left early, promising to meet me later for dinner.

Which leaves me all alone in this empty office with no distractions. Not until I’m able to finish this pile of work and escape, at any rate.

With effort, I tear my gaze from the clock and turn back to my computer screen. The faster I work, the faster I get to leave, and the sooner I get to see her again. To get my hands on my beautiful, sexy as hell wife.

Just the thought is enough to make my dick stir. I remember the last time she came by my office after hours. She wore that same sexy blue dress she wore to meet my parents, only this time, I didn’t let her wear it for long. I pinned her against the door almost before it had closed, and slid my hands up, pushing that dress up over her hips as my fingers toyed with the hem of her panties. I slid one finger beneath them, ran it along the edges of her pussy lips, and found her already soaking wet for me.