Gorgeous? I took in the flush of her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts against that modest neckline. Huh. Maybe I wasn’t the only one fighting an attraction here.

“Turn around,” I ordered.

“What?”

“Turn around unless you want an eyeful.”

Our eyes locked as the room filled with a potent electricity. Fuck me, but one tug of this towel, and a simple tug of her panties to the side, and I could be so deep inside this woman that she’d be ruined for every man who came after me.

The thought had its appeal.

She broke the connection, turning her back on me, and I went about getting dressed.

“I don’t think we can get this annulled.”

I paused momentarily, then jerked my boxer briefs up and reached for my shorts. “Why? It’s not like we had sex.”

“You don’t know that,” she said primly.

I pulled on my shorts and shirt. “It’s safe to turn around now.”

She did, and I felt an odd sense of satisfaction that she looked disappointed when she saw I had my shirt on.

“I do know that we didn’t have sex,” I reiterated, sitting to get my socks and shoes on.

“You can’t possibly know that!” She repeated.

“No condoms in the trash can. Trust me, even drunk, there’s no way I’d forget to use one.”

“Well, maybe you did this time. I mean, we both did things completely out of character, right?” She ran her tongue across her lips, and I quelled the urge to pull her toward me and suck it into my mouth.

My gaze narrowed. What the hell was she getting at?

“Are you sore?” I bent to tie my shoes, and by the time I looked up, she still hadn’t answered me. “Well, are you? Because if we’d had sex, trust me, you’d still feel it. You’re fucking tiny, and I’m not.”

“Well, no.” She looked away. “But that doesn’t mean anything, either.”

It what? My gaze narrowed. “Okay, then how about this. It wouldn’t matter if I was drugged out of my goddamned mind. If I ever got my hands on your body, I’d remember. We didn’t have sex. Trust me. What the hell is this really about, Persephone?”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I need us to stay married.”

My jaw dropped. “I’m sorry?”

“My mom is really sick. She’s dying. She has a super rare blood type, and her kidneys are failing. We’ve tried for the last five years to find her a match and can’t. The doctors are giving her months, Cannon. That’s it. Just months.” She took a seat beside me on the bench.

“God, I’m sorry.” Losing my mother had been the worst moment of my life. I wouldn’t wish that shit on my worst enemy. Persephone was a lot of things, but she wasn’t even close to being an enemy.

“Thank you. I guess it just goes to show you that money can’t buy everything, right?” She forced a smile. “I thought she was going to lose it when the press got ahold of our wedding pictures.”

“Fucking chapel,” I muttered.

“We should definitely report them to the Better Business Bureau,” she said with a nod.

The corners of my mouth lifted.

“Anyway, instead of being angry at me, she was thrilled.” Her voice shook a little.

“Thrilled?” I examined her profile, but there wasn’t any hint that she was lying.

“She was so happy. She said she just wanted to see me happy. To see me find love. And then she mentioned the dozen or so times my older sister has been married and annulled within a month, and I felt so…slimy.”

“Slimy,” I repeated because I didn’t have any other words.

“Right.” She turned slightly and looked up at me.

Fuuuuuuck, those eyes hit me right in the heart. I threw up every defense I’d managed to construct in my twenty-seven years, and those baby blues sliced right through them like butter.

“Cannon, I know you hate me and hate how I was raised and pretty much everything I stand for, but would you consider staying married to me? At least until…” She drifted off.

At least until my mother dies. I heard her unspoken words loud and clear.

“Persephone, I’m the last person your family would ever want you married to, even for a few months. Look at me.”

She didn’t flinch. “I am looking at you, Cannon. My mother has seen your pictures. She knows you’re an NHL star. She knows, and she’s still so happy for me, and the idea of taking that happiness away from her when she’s already lost so much…” She shook her head.

It would only be for a few months. Holy shit, was I actually considering this? “There are a thousand reasons this is a shit idea.”

Her eyes flared with hope. “But one really good reason that it’s not. And I wouldn’t ask much of you, I promise. Well, there’s one thing.” She cringed.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance
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