“Anything,” he assured her, unable to think of one thing she could ask him that would ruin his elation.
“I won’t be mad,” she insisted, “but I have to know so please be honest. Do you want me? Or is this just about Midas?”
An arctic wind seemed to gust through him, chasing out the tenderness that had crept into his heart. All the cracks and fractures inside him began to ache.
“Everything is about Midas,” he said with brutal honesty.
She flinched, but nodded acceptance of that.
He didn’t like hurting her, but, “I wouldn’t be marrying you if you weren’t who you are. You’re tempting as hell, Ilona. I would have wanted to date you if we had met some other way, but I can’t waver from the course I’ve set. If you weren’t part of my attack on him, you would have been a distraction. An obstacle. I would have pushed my attraction aside and stayed focused on him.”
She was biting the inside of her lip, lashes hiding her eyes, nodding convulsively.
“You wouldn’t trust me if I lied and said something different,” he ground out.
“I don’t think I would have believed you if you had said anything different.” Her tone had gone hollow. Her face had lost its rosy color.
Her words were a hard kick, one that cooled his blood.
“After, though. After I’ve dealt with him, this marriage will only be about us.”
“You just told me why it will never be about us. Midas will be baked into our vows.” Her eyes were glistening as she looked up at him. “And you don’t know how long it will take to be satisfied that he’s paid enough,” she noted sadly. “It could take years. Decades.”
“True.” He didn’t hesitate to deliver that harsh reality, either. “But you told me once that you pick your battles. This one I’m in with him is worth having.”
She shrugged, not seeming convinced.
He would prove it to her, though. And they would both live happier lives once he did.