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what?”
    â€œWouldn’t you like to know?”
    â€œI would, actually. Very much.”
    â€œAnd why is that? Why so interested?”
    â€œBecause you interest me. A lot.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you ask a lot of questions.”
    â€œIs that all?”
    â€œOh, God no! Everything about you interests me.”
    â€œBut you hardly know me. In fact, you
don’t
know me.”
    â€œBut I want to.”
    She nods slowly, her violet eyes never leaving mine. I can all but see the wheels of her mind spinning.
    â€œYou’re running from something. Care to tell me what that is?”
    Shock. That’s what’s written all over her face. Good old-fashioned shock. “Wh-what makes you say that?”
    â€œI’ve run from things before. I know the look.”
    â€œWell, you . . . I . . . It’s not . . .”
    â€œWouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what it is rather than trying to make up excuses? You know you want to.”
    â€œI most certainly do not!” she denies vehemently, but I can also see on her face that she very much
does.
    â€œLiar.”
    â€œI am not. I—”
    â€œSometimes a perfect stranger can be a great sounding board. No attachments. No judgments. Nothing to fear. Just someone to listen. And maybe even help.”
    â€œTrust me, there’s nothing you could do to help me.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised by what I’m capable of,” I tell her, deadpan. And she would. I’ve killed, I’ve stolen, I’ve pillaged and plundered. Well, sort of. But I’ve also saved and sacrificed, confessed and surrendered.
    She starts to say something, her exquisite lips parting and then slowly closing again. “It’s my father. He wants me to marry someone who’s not of my choosing.”
    â€œA business connection, I presume?”
    She nods once. She’s looking down at her fork where she turns it up on its side and then rolls it to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. “He’s a nice man, but I never wanted to marry someone for reasons other than love.”
    â€œThen don’t.”
    â€œIt’s not that simple. My father . . .” Her sigh is deep and mournful. “I run a charity that’s very important to me. A children’s charity. To provide the hungry with food. He doesn’t want to invest more money into it, but I do. I was going to invest some of
my
money once my trust fund matures when I turn twenty-five in a few months, but he’s going to revoke the trust if I don’t marry Michael before then.”
    In most of modern society, that shit doesn’t happen anymore.But in Weatherly’s circles, and with men like William O’Neal? Who the hell knows
what
goes on?
    â€œWhy the rush? Why now?”
    â€œAnother company has been trying to get my father to sell a considerable amount of his holdings at less than market value because the stock has dropped. There have been some . . . financial problems in the last couple of years. But he doesn’t want to sell. Now the other company is moving into a hostile takeover and this is my father’s only way out.
Michael
is his only way out, or so he thinks.”
    â€œAnd does Michael want to marry you? Or is it strictly business for him, too?”
    She shrugs, a vague movement of only one shoulder. “I suppose he does. He’s always been . . . interested, I guess.”
    â€œI can imagine. You’re an intelligent, well-bred, beautiful woman. What’s not to like?”
    â€œWow! I’ve never felt more like a show horse.”
    â€œNo, not a show horse. Just a very desirable catch, that’s all.”
    Her eyes snap up to mine. They’re shooting fire, violet sparks spitting out at me from around her wide, angry pupils. “And is that supposed to be enough for me? That
he
wants
me
? Is it so unthinkable that I