“Probably not.” She wrinkled her nose. “As soon as I take my hands off your head, you’re going to feel awful again and then—” she shrugged “—I think we both know that’s not going to end well.”
“It might.” He found himself grinning. Parker liked this one. He liked her a lot. “I hope I don’t sound like an asshole, but I can’t remember your name.”
The smile didn’t waver. “Nah, you’d be an asshole if you didn’t ask.”
He looked at her pointedly.
“Well, ask.”
Parker snorted. “What’s your name?”
“That’s better. My name is Belle.”
A sense of accomplishment tinged with just a bit of happiness washed over him. This was going to be his wife. His mate. So his future didn’t suck balls. Well, not that it would. He supposed his misery would be relative. Arranged marriages and matings weren’t the worst thing that could happen to him.
He could be broke and Parker would rather take a fat portfolio and all the comforts that came with it. Moving amongst the naturals for his kind was only easy if you were off the grid or above it. So far, above it had been the way to go. If that meant he had to marry someone his brother chose for him, he wouldn’t complain.
Especially since she was gorgeous, witty, had perfect breasts, and just her touch on his skin soothed him and made him well.
It could be a hell of a lot worse.
“Belle, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
She flashed him a smirk that caused dread to knot in his stomach. “I think maybe it’s going to be more than that.”
He didn’t understand that sudden dread at her words. Parker wasn’t afraid of commitment. He knew his duty. He was pleased with the hand he’d been dealt. But that expression on her face, there was some part of him that instinctively knew no good could come of it.
“Why do I feel like I stepped in shit and it’s still on my shoe?”
She waved her finger at him.
The diamond caught the light and almost seared his retina. The fucking thing was practically a laser.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Not what I was expecting this morning either. We can go get a quickie annulment. I won’t hold you to it. We were both piss drunk.” She looked at the ring on her hand. “But I’m keeping the rock.”
Wouldn’t hold him to… what? No. Yes. Yes, she would. He would. Damn it, his head started to hurt again.
“We’re supposed to be married.” He squinted, as if that would filter the proper information to his brain. Or maybe show him what he was missing.
“That’s sweet.” She pressed her lips against his forehead. “That’s the same thing you said last night. I thought for sure you’d change your mind this morning.”
Goddess, but her touch was heaven. It gave succor to things he didn’t know had been hurting. This mating stuff didn’t suck at all.
Her lips were as cool as her fingers and there was nothing but frozen peace there. He could stay like this forever and began to wonder just exactly how long he could get away with it.
“There is no changing our minds. It’s what our families want.”
One more second—that was exactly how long he was able to get away with it until she jerked her hands away from his face.
“Our families?” She narrowed her eyes.
She also reeked of fear. It was almost too much when coupled with the pounding in his head and the nausea. “Gonna hurl.”
“You deserve it if you married me because my family said so.”
“Don’t wanna—”
She put her hands back on his head and smoothed a lock of hair away from his fevered brow.
Ah, there was that bliss again. His stomach, his head, all the turmoil ceased. He turned his face into her palm. “If you could just keep your hand there.”
She shook her head. “Just because you’re sweet and adorable doesn’t mean you’re not going to answer my questions.”
“I’ll do anything you want, just keep touching me. You know, you could even pet me. I like that.”
Her laughter was like little chimes. “Fine. So. We’re married. Why did you say our families wanted it that way?”
Well, that was a dumb question. Of course, he wasn’t going to say that out loud because she’d stop touching him. He couldn’t have that. “We’re betrothed. Parker Woolven. Maribella DeVaughn. Family merger. Company merger. Simpatico. Yes?” He nuzzled her hand.
Being petted like a dog wasn’t supposed to feel this good. Goddess, but he wanted her to scratch behind his ears and then he’d—
“Oh, you poor bastard. You poor, poor bastard,” she whispered in that melodic voice of hers.