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She had hidden behind NECTAR because people had not listened to what she had to say when they thought she was a woman. She had done it because women weren’t supposed to do and like and study what she did.

And now her strategy was threatening to become a different kind of silencer.

She had to trust that she was ready to hold her own in front of the world. She had to trust Jag.

But what if they rejected her? Could she handle the wider public saying all the things her parents had said about her hopes and dreams?

Squeezing her hand, Jag said in a low tone, “You’ve gone quiet.”

Rita cleared her throat. Then clear and loud and strong—as far a cry from the similar declaration she had made sobbing to her parents so long ago—she said, “I choose to change the world.”

Jag’s smile in response was beyond blinding and it occurred to Rita that, though he had been willing to let her lead, it had been his dreams and plans that had been on the line as well.

“You will blow them all away, Rita. None of them will know what hit them, even as they will be desperate for more—not the press, the people of Hayat, nor the heads of the industries you will transform.” He held her hand as he spoke, squeezing again before he asked her quietly, “Are you ready to become a national pride and joy?”

Chuckling to herself, the sound bubbling up to burst through some of the anxiety, she squeezed his hand in response and nodded. “I am,” she said.

Not everyone was going to love her, she knew.

Her father-in-law was somewhere in the crowd tonight.

But that was also her part in their arrangement, and she was prepared.

Tonight would mark the first time she met the man in person, but having gone nearly four weeks in residence in Hayat, she had now seen his image enough times to know what he looked like.

Jag had warned her to expect that her father-in-law would be nasty, reminding her that the man was a ruthless tyrant even as recently as the last dinner they’d shared.

Having her own history of nasty encounters with fathers, Rita could handle herself.

She would be everything Jag needed her to be, when it came to his father and the public. It was the least she could give in return for the man who not only supported who and what she was but also believed in her capacity to push both toward achieving her dreams.

Stepping through this door represented entering into a new future, for all that Jag hadn’t asked her to change herself.

It was a dangerous future in which the world knew who she was.

It was a future as the wife of the man at her side.

There was no going back once everyone knew.

Looking up at Jag, she was once again caught by the fiery amber of his gaze.

Something tormented and pained struggled in his look, his lips taking on an unfamiliar grimace as he opened them to force out the words, “Last chance to turn back.”

Shaking her head, Rita said, “No. That moment passed. We’re in it together. Let’s do this.”

Relief returned Jag’s face back to the confident mask she was coming to know so well, and he nodded. Then he opened the door.

Rita gasped.

Massive walls of green glass arched overhead and around.

Stepping into the room, she walked into a wall of humidity, the perfumed air thick and moist in the room despite the ventilation provided by the many open windows.

Being inside it was as if she had stepped into a prehistoric jungle.

The room housed three long shallow rectangular pools each graced with lily pads, lotuses and other gorgeous water plants that Rita had not come across in any of her gardening classes.

Partygoers dotted walkways, standing on small arched bridges, swirling glasses of effervescent liquid while tuxedo-clad servers replenished drinks and handed out hors d’oeuvres.


Tags: Marcella Bell Billionaire Romance