Overnight Wife(34)
“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. “Since 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.