He doesn’t say anything.
“I feel so stupid, and I would never intentionally try to destroy Blue Mountain. Or any business. That’s not what I want.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m glad.”
My heartbeat settles, and I feel calmer. “So you’ll give me the annulment?”
Asher studies me for long, silent moments, eyes taking me in in a way that’s not entirely appropriate. In his gaze I see last night and the time before that. Just the memory of it brings blood surging into my cheeks.
Then one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. “No.”
8
Asher
What the fuck am I doing?
I should say yes. Yes, I’ll give Rose the annulment and let her go.
She clearly made a mistake. I can’t fault her for trying to do the one thing that could save her education. Blackmail isn’t needed here.
And yet, there isn’t any part of me that’s about to let her—my wife—walk off this property yet.
It’s that deep protective instinct that I felt earlier. It’s wild and feral and won’t take no for an answer. Rose doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of. At all. I want to save her from that if I can. Gary is a pain in my ass on a regular basis, so I can only imagine what it must be like to be his daughter.
And then there’s another part of me that doesn’t quite want to let her off the hook. Not all the way, anyway.
I’m not sure if that’s because I’m still fucking pissed—which I am—or if it’s because I still desperately want her—which I do. But one way or the other, Rose Brandt and I are not finished with each other.
There’s something about this chemistry that I can’t let go of yet. I try to tell myself that it has absolutely nothing to do with the way her skin feels under my hands or the subtle scent of fruit in her hair or the way that she tastes. But I’m lying.
It has everything to do with those things.
She’s looking down into the oatmeal now, eating silently, absorbing my declaration that I’m not going to dissolve our hasty marriage yet.
“Show me the pictures that you took?”
She blinks at me. “I have no idea where my bag is after last night.”
I press my lips together in an attempt not to smile, but it doesn’t work. My mind is currently filled with the way that we crashed through the door, pawing each other like we were teenagers on prom night. We barely made it to the bedroom. “It’s on the couch.”
Rose grabs her phone and opens to the photos that she took yesterday. I flip through them. At least now I know why she was taking what I thought were weird photos. I’m such a fucking idiot.
But the photos she took don’t prove anything. Because we handle our business. We’re relentlessly careful about safety, especially since the accident with Diana. There was a very real chance that she could have died, and we weren’t going to take that chance again. It’s my job specifically to make sure that everything we do is safe and develop the procedures to make it that way.
Enough is enough.
The plan comes to me all at once, and I smile at my new bride. “I have an idea. I promise that I’ll give you the annulment and make sure that you have money for school, if you help me.”
“How?” The look of hope on her face is enough to break me. And then her face falls. “Even if we’re married, I can’t stay here forever, Asher. My dad knows where I am and he’s going to want those pictures sooner rather than later.”
“I know,” I say. “I want a list of all the places your father has had you go this summer. And then we’re going to give him the pictures that he wants. Keep a record of everything. We’ll prove once and for all that he’s trying to set us up, and my hope is that it will get your dad to stop harassing us and set you free of having to help him.”
Rose paces across the room, arms wrapped around herself once again. She’s got that goddamn infernal sun dress on that makes me want to do nothing but tear it off her. And since I already destroyed her panties, I know that she’s got nothing underneath.
“So you’re blackmailing me into helping you?” She finally asks. “By making us stay married?”
I stand and cross the room, making sure to enter her space in exactly the way I already know throws her off balance. “You didn’t seem to have any complaints on our wedding night.”
“I barely remember our wedding night,” she says, anger turning her words into a hiss.
She turns a beautiful shade of red. It could be from embarrassment or anger, but it looks fucking gorgeous on her. “You know, that color is exactly the one you turned when you were breathlessly riding my cock.”