I need to see them. Tear the dress off her and get her naked. But I made that stupid promise to be a gentleman. And I have to keep it now.
This is all so strange to me. Already Mia is changing me. Making me behave in a way I never do around women. Normally I’m cold. Ask any of them and they’d probably describe me as heartless, an asshole. Detached. But Mia challenges me. She talks back, behaves in ways I don’t expect. I thought she would cower in fear back there when I threatened her family, but she got on her feet and got right up in my face.
What a woman…
This is bad. I can feel myself starting to get attached. My dad sent me on a mission to find a woman who could pass as a wife, and I set out to find a really good counterfeit, but I may have just found myself the real thing.
I should turn the goddamn plane around. Take her back to the diner and let her finish her shift before things get any worse.
But I can already feel a cord binding itself between us. Twisting, tying, pulling us together. Even though she’s sitting on the opposite side of the cabin from me.
And what if I did take her home? Some busboy, some cook gets to be the first one to claim her? No. The thought alone makes me want to go back there and preemptively kill them all. No other male on this planet will ever get their hands on her. I’d spend the rest of my life plagued by the terrible fantasy as it played over and over in my head.
If anyone is going to have her, it’s going to be me.
Those hips in my hands, those sweet plump lips wrapped around my cock.
I need it.
She may be pure, but I’ll be the only man to corrupt her.
But this is new ground for me. I’m not used to this sort of thing. I actually feel like I’m on a date for the first time in my life. Men like me don’t go on dates; we have women brought to us. Whether it was my father or my father’s men, I’ve always had them ready and willing to please me. But now, despite my blackmail, I feel as though I actually need – want – to impress Mia. The only problem is, I have no idea how.
“So why do you need a wife?” she asks. “I’m sure a man like you could find a woman to marry him.”
“Time constraints,” I reply. “If I don’t find a woman soon, the empire goes to my brother. A fuck-up.” She starts to mull this over, but I don’t want to discuss it, so I change the subject. “Why Vegas?” I ask.
Mia shrugs. “That’s what they do in the movies, right?”
“I hope you don’t expect me to dress up as Elvis.”
“Well, I’m going to be Marilyn Monroe,” she says, flashing me a very fake, but very sweet smile. “So unless you want to look stupid…”
The light from outside casts her face in a brilliant glow, illuminating her hair, creating a golden halo behind her head. I can feel gears turning inside of me that have been frozen and stuck for years. This girl is really doing things to me.
“How old are you?” I ask.
For some reason, Mia frowns and scrunches her nose up at me. “Didn’t think to ask that, did you? What if I say sixteen?”
“You are not sixteen, don’t be silly,” I reply. But she doesn’t give. Her face betrays nothing. “Are you?”
Mia laughs. “No, but I got you for a second there. I’m eighteen.”
My hand balls into a fist at my side. Barely legal. I’m dying to bend her over the seat and tongue-fuck her little teenage pussy. Let’s see her keep her cool when she’s screaming my name in ecstasy.
“Why no boyfriend?”
“Boys are a distraction,” she says. “Right now I need to make money.”
“You don’t need money anymore. I have that covered.”
“Right,” she laughs. “As long as I marry you.”
“Yes.”
Mia rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but feel something inside. I want to lie down beside her and confess, lay out all of my sins and beg for her forgiveness. But for the first time in my life, I’m afraid—afraid she won’t forgive me. Afraid she will reject me and leave me alone again in the darkness of my life.
“How romantic,” she mutters to herself, showing—for the first time—a sign of true weakness.