“Most men like him are.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “They’re stuck in old times and live by old rules.”
“Do you like that in a man?”
She peeked at him before turning away. “No. But it doesn’t matter what I like.”
“Of course it does.” He stared at her. “Why wouldn’t it?”
“Because in the space of all the things that matter, how I feel about his ordering habits really isn’t all that important.” She blew out a breath and stepped into the elevator when the doors opened. “My opinion on him really doesn’t matter at all. If my country wants me to like him, and it’s best for them, then…I’ll like him. My feelings have no place in business matters.”
She said that as if on autopilot. As if she’d been told that same thing so many times that she almost, kind of, sort of believed it. Or thought she did, anyway. “Bullshit.”
“No, it’s life,” she said. “My life.”
He stepped in beside her, his heart pounding. The pieces were finally falling together. “This is what you were talking about this morning, isn’t it? You were upset because you had to go on a date with this guy, and you didn’t want to?”
She laughed. “Kind of, yes.”
“Well, you did it. And you lived to tell about it.” The elevator doors opened. “But why agree to go out with him again, after you fulfilled your patriotic duty—or whatever you call that forced date—if you don’t want to do it?”
“It’s more than that.” She walked out into the hallway, her head high but her steps slower than before. “There’s more to it than a simple date. It’s not just…that’s not all there is.”
He blinked at her, trying to make sense of her words. “Is this about your countries playing nice together? Is that it?”
“No. Yes. Kind of.” She lifted her hand, then let it fall back down to her side. “It’s about unity. Bonds. Not just a dinner.”
She unlocked her door.
He blinked at her. “But why would you going out with him make—?”
What had she said yesterday? We marry for country ties. For unity. For money. Not for love. Love doesn’t exist in my world.
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I’m not sure you really want to talk about it with me, to be honest.”
He shook his head. “No. Tell me this isn’t about a fucking arranged marriage.”
Without answering, she opened the door. She went inside, tossed her purse aside, and rested her hands on the table by the door. “And if it is?”
He tossed the food on the table, kicked the door shut behind him, and grabbed her shoulders. Spinning her to face him, he forced himself to take a calm breath. He didn’t know whether to scream, yell, or shake some sense into her. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” She pressed her lips together. “It’s how it works in my world. My parents did it, and they’re perfectly happy together. They even fell in love. Who says I can’t have that, too, with George?”
He’d fucked a woman who was taken? Someone else’s fiancée? This couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t that kind of guy—one who stole another man’s woman. It wasn’t right. “You’re…engaged? To that prince from earlier?”
“I don’t really want to. That much is true.” She continued on, as if she hadn’t even heard a word he said. “But if it’s best for my country, then it’s best for me. I’ll do it, if—”
He held up a hand. “Wait a second. This man you ate with tonight. He’s your fiancé?”
Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together. “You’re no
t paying attention.”
“Oh, I’m paying attention all right.” He laughed, the sound coming out harsh. “I just can’t believe what I’m hearing. He’s your fucking fiancé.”
“No. He’s not. Not yet.” She put her hands on her hips. “Right now, he’s nothing.”
He backed her against the wall. He’d broken his one and only rule when it came to sex… And it was all her fault. “You lied to me. You told me you never met him before today.”
“No, I didn’t lie,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s true.”