"Doesn’t take much to join the dots."
"Go on," I say slowly.
"You tried your hand at being a tie-dye designer—"
"I like colors."
"A diving instructor—"
"I like the colors of fishes underwater." I raise a shoulder.
"A beekeeper."
"I like the color of—"
"Bees?" He smirks.
"I was going to say honey, but yeah, sure, bees, too."
"A professional bridesmaid?" He arches an eyebrow.
"Weddings can be very colorful, you know? Also, you’ll be surprised how lucrative a job it is. Also—" I frown. "How do you know all this?"
"It’s on your bio on your website," he points out.
Of course, it is.
"I also had you investigated."
I gape at him. "You had me investigated?"
"You didn’t think I’d allow you to plan my wedding without making sure your background was acceptable? Which also means, I know you’re not married."
I plant my hands on my hips. "And I intend to stay that way. I’m focused on building my career and my company—"
"And there won’t be much of that left, considering I’ll personally make sure you never work in this country or on this continent—or in fact, organize any wedding anywhere in the world—again."
My heart flips up into my throat, and my pulse begins to race. "You wouldn’t do that."
"Try me." He reaches over, picks up the pencil I was using earlier, then twirls it between his fingers.
I try to focus on the action, but the scene in front of my eyes blurs. I blink away the hot tears that have accumulated in my eyes and set my jaw. "You’re blackmailing me."
He raises his gaze skyward. "Finally, she gets it."
"So, if I don’t marry you, you’ll destroy my career and my reputation?"
He lowers the pencil to the table. "You’ll pose as my wife. Put up a united front with me to my family. Convince them and my friends how much you love me. Also, you need to produce an heir—"
What the—?I shake my head. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Back up. What do you mean, 'an heir’?" I make air quotes with my fingers.
"I need to be married and have a child before I can get ownership of my business."
"You talk like this is a stipulation of some kind..."
He shuffles his feet. For the first time since he prowled into my office, he seems less than confident. In fact, he looks downright pissed. "My father’s will says, unless I marry and produce an heir by the time I’m forty, I won't inherit my company or get access to my trust fund."
"I see." I lean back in my seat. "So, this is why you proposed to Lila and hustled her into marrying you."