EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

Noah.

It was impulsive, but it was happening. I was taking Charlotte out for lunch, and I had no idea where to go because I had not planned this. The reason was because I needed to rope her into the marriage contract fully as soon as possible, and for that to happen, I needed to stop her from going back to her home in Romulus territory where I couldn't reach her without stirring up trouble.

"Where are we going?" Charlotte asked timidly. I wonder whether it was the brief display of violence from earlier that had quelled her fieriness, but she had seemed somewhat scared since she got into the car.

"To a restaurant."

"Which one?" She asked, seeming to gain confidence with every passing second.

"Green?" I called for my assistant who sat at the edge of his seat facing the window- a show to make us forget he was there.

"Sir?"

"Call for another car. I would like to travel privately with Charlotte."

"Of course."

Charlotte's eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. "What-" She looked at Green helplessly as the car pulled to a halt. "What is this?"

As Green opened his door and came down, I leaned towards him and said, "Prepare the paperwork. Discreetly, please. We will be at The Windmill."

"Understood." He shut the car and the ride resumed.

"What was that?" Charlotte asked, her voice becoming more defined. "And where are you taking me?"

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't know the place."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"Because I already said it. If it was MacDonald's you'd have taken note of it for sure."

"Huh? The Windmill?"

"Oh, so you were paying attention."

"What the hell kind of place is that?"

"Like I said, even if I told you, you wouldn't know it. I don't mean to be rude but, it is far out of your economic bracket."

I held eye contact with her while dressing my lips with a smirk. Her nostrils flared and she pouted her lips.

"That's why you sent him out? So he wouldn't hear you insult me?"

"I haven't insulted you."

"Really now?"

"Yes."

"Let me out."

"No can do."

"I'm going to scream."

I chuckled. "That would really hurt my ears."

"Yeah, and then someone's going to call the cops because a woman kept screaming and banging on the windows."

"It's... uh..." I bit down on a chuckle. "It's a soundproof vehicle, Charlotte. And no one can see us in here."

She looked at the glass and only then seemed to realize that it was tinted. I watched her force a lump of spit down her throat and I could have sworn I saw her shiver slightly.

"You sick man."

"What?"

"I'm being kidnapped? Why do you need a soundproof car?"

I licked my lips as the curled up into a smile and leaned forward, stretching my hand out to touch her thigh.

"Because sometimes," I said, letting my eyes roam her body, "My women tend to get impatient... if you know what I mean."

Her eye twitched and it almost made me break character and burst out laughing. She swiped my hand away and readjusted her dress, clearing her throat lightly.

I leaned back, still smiling. "No, this is not a kidnap. We're going to have lunch at a restaurant on the other side of town, and then we will have a very serious conversation."

"What conversation?"

"Jeez do I have to spell it out for you?" I said, feeling satisfied that I could give her a taste of her own medicine. "The marriage. Terms and conditions. Et cetera."

"Well, we can have that conversation now. Why postpone it?"

"I find it discourteous to have such sensitive discussions within the confines of a moving box."

"So what? We should just stare at each other?"

"No, you can tell me everything I need to know about you."

"You find it discourteous-" She made air quotes with her fingers, "to have sensitive conversations in a car, but you don't mind getting to know me within the same context?"

"You're right. There is some dissonance at play here." I admitted. "Then, I guess we can sit in silence."

"No. You will answer my questions." She said, and I enjoyed her feeble attempt at imposing authority. "Who are you?"

"Noah, I thought I introduced myself already."

"I'm not playing."

"Noah Anderson."

"You got to give me more than that."

"I'm... uh... a businessman."

"What kind of business?"

"It didn't occur to you to ask these questions before agreeing to be my wife?"

"I haven't agreed to anything."

I sighed and shook my head dramatically. "And here I was thinking you are a woman of your word."

"Sorry to disappoint. Now shoot."

"I'm my father's only son." I said. "I'm turning twenty eight, and I need to be married before I'm thirty."

"Why?"

"Tradition."

"Tradition?"

"Family tradition."

"Where'd you get your money from?"

"Oh, getting really intimate here, huh?" I said humorously. "I got my wealth from my father."

"And him?"

"His father. I told you. Business. Family business."

"So you come from generational wealth. That's why you think you can buy me."

"That's not what this is and I wonder what even gave you the impression."

"Why me?"

"We've gone over this before, Charlotte, and I'm tired of these questions. We're going to get to The Windmill, have a great lunch, discuss the terms of our marriage and what we both stand to gain, then Green will come in with some paperwork which we will sign promptly, binding us to the agreement legally, and in three days, we will be a wedded couple."