stave off a sneer. “There’s an article from the event last night, and it got me thinking.”
“That you should propose?” Her tone is drenched in disbelief.
I glare at her. “That we could be a couple.”
“But not an actual one. Just for show, right?” Maybe she’s actually buying into this.
A nod confirms her assumption. “You’d fit well enough.”
“Into a trophy wife mold? How sweet.” She polishes her sarcasm off with a huff.
There goes my theory. Digging my heels in is a specialty. “You know damn well we’d be good together.”
“Have you been on happy pills since we met? All we do is fight. The only thing we do well together is sex, and you can bet your billions that’s never happening again.”
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
She snorts. “You didn’t, really. It was more of a demand.”
“Don’t bother with proper sentence structure right now,” I spit.
Vannah spreads her arms wide. “Then don’t try to use me as part of your arranged marriage sham.”
“We’d be good together,” I repeat.
“But in what capacity?”
“The ones that matter. We have chemistry. You can put up with my shit. I need a reliable partner by my side to run this empire.”
She taps her lips, pretending to think. Then a scowl puckers her beautiful features. “That’s gonna be a no from me.”
“You could be my greatest rebellion.”
Once the words leave my mouth, her expression morphs into pure outrage. A red trail splices up her neck, matching the fire in her hair. “Fuck you, Landon. I refuse to be a pawn in your game.”
Her fury feeds my own. I widen my stance, preparing for this battle to get bloody. “You’d rather have me never call again? Fuck and dump?”
Vannah shakes her head. “Real classy. Here come your true colors. I wondered when the shine would wash off.”
“Excuse me for trying to be decent.” I feel my pulse spiking, getting high off this fight.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She pauses to suck in a deep breath. “Have you been grooming me for this fucked-up role? I won’t portray a happily wedded wife for you. Find someone else. There are probably dozens waiting on your doorstep.”
I ignore her barb, letting it roll off my shoulders with the rest. “There are specific qualities I deem necessary. You meet them.”
A hand flutters to her chest in a dramatic flair. “Oh, it’s like winning the lottery.”
The pounding against my skull intensifies. I need to get this sorted before my head explodes. “I’d compensate you more than generously. Think about it, sugar. You’d never want for anything.”
“Yes, I certainly would. Nothing would stop me from wanting a real marriage.” She punctuates each word with a stab in the air. Like daggers flinging right through me.
“You’d be so rich, none of that emotional bullshit would matter anymore.” I’ve been immune my entire existence until she came along.
“It’s always about money, huh? How shallow. No amount is worth selling my happiness.”
“We’d only be married on paper.” But the thought of her fucking other men makes my vision go dark. One problem at a time. “Our union wouldn’t be anything more than a title.”
“It means something to me, asshole. I want to find love. Settling for less is cheap. I’d rather be single than shackle myself to a scam.”
“It wouldn’t be a total farce.” I would grow to care about her. Parts of me already do.
“No? You’d love me? Be faithful? Take me on a damn boat cruise if I ask?”
“You’re overreacting,” I deadpan.
Vannah buries her face behind a palm and muffles a scream. “Me? You just proposed a fake marriage while your cock was still inside me.”
“You don’t need to keep repeating that.”
“I think I do. You’re not understanding how fucked-up this is.”
“It’s a better solution than the alternative.”
“Oh, this should be a treat.” She rolls her neck, pinning me with another glare. “What might that entail? Perhaps I’ll find it more practical.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Spit it out.” She spins her wrist.
If I were the retreating type, now would be the moment for a white flag. I prefer charging into conflict with my sword drawn regardless of the odds. Surrendering more dignity to her isn’t an option. If she won’t accept my proposal, pushing her away is the next best thing. Breaking her spirit was always top priority. “I wanted to sleep with you, then break our contracts.”
She’s too quiet, her posture too rigid. This woman lives for bickering with me. “Do you realize how horrible that sounds? You’re not a monster. Tell me you’re kidding.”
Regret sinks