005: The Clause

Andy’s POV

He wants me.

I’m not imagining things. This man wants me. In every sense of the word.

Will he still want me if he knows the truth?

That question slammed into me like a ton of bricks. I pulled my hand back and turned my head away. His hand hung in the space between us before his fist clenched and he pulled back.

“You should rest,” he said, his voice flat. A stark contrast to how hoarse and tensed he’d sounded mere seconds ago. “I’ll have the chef prepare something for you. The cruise stops at Bermuda today, we’ll go shopping. Then—“

I turned to him, my eyes burning with tears. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that right?”

“Andy, I believe we can communicate without you cursing me every two seconds.”

I rose to my feet, glaring him down even though he was two solid heads taller than me. “You spun on me out of nowhere, asked me to marry you, and now you’re giving me all this shit about how you know everyone on your ship when you haven’t even…I don’t even know your fucking name!”

His brow raised. “You didn’t ask.”

“Oh yeah?! That’s what you have to say?!” I couldn’t control my anger. This is all so crazy. No sane person would stand here and talk to a stranger that almost drowned them.

That’s saying a lot because I’ve never been called sane a single day in my life.

Something about this man grates on my non-existent nerves. Gosh I want to slap him! And maybe kiss him too.

“You’ve not even asked me a single question about myself,”

“I know everything about you I need to know for this marriage to work.”

“Oh, so you stalked me?”

“No.”

I let out a long groan of frustration. “You’re going to be a terrible husband. I can feel it deep in my fucking bones.”

“Sit down, Andy. Your knee is still hurt.”

“Leave my fucking knee alone, asshole.”

“My name is Dante, not asshole.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

“Rest. I’ll be back soon. Feel free to explore as you’d like.”

He didn’t wait for me to say anything, then he was gone.

Dante.

If anyone has told me that barely twenty four hours after getting brutally rejected I’d be in a luxury cabin with a hot fiancé named Dante, I would have laughed then punched them in the face.

An hour later after I was done showering and throwing back on the pajamas, Dante returned with a chef. Thirty minutes later, we were seated at the dining.

I stared at the plate in front of me. A classic breakfast, eggs and bacon and a slice of toast that I’m sure is gut healthy sourdough. It looked delicious, steam wafting into the air and the aroma filling my lungs.

But my stomach curled and nausea rose in my throat. I looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Can I have something else?” I asked. “Maybe something packaged?”

He cocked a brow. “Why? Do you have any allergies I should know about?”

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “I um…I’m on a diet.”

“A diet?”

“Yes! A reverse diet. You know how people go on a diet for health and all that stuff? Yeah I’m doing the exact opposite. I wanna eat so much junk that my heart gives out before I’m thirty five.”

He’s staring at me like I’ve gone mad. “I’ll have the chef prepare something else.”

“No! Just…just give me something packaged. Wrapped in plastic or metal or heck even wood! You’re rich, I’m sure you’ve got something like that lying around in this obscenely beautiful cabin!”

“Fine,” he huffed. “There’s no need to yell.”

I exhaled a huge breath of relief. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it.

He left and returned some minutes later with a plate of packaged sausages still wrapped in the plastic, a sealed can of coffee and a whole ass loaf of bread with the seal still intact.

“Good?”

I looked up at him, nodding, unable to hide the wide grin on my face. “Thank you.”

“Is there any reason why you prefer this?”

I froze.

Oh there was a reason.

When we were kids, August loved putting “gifts” in my food. Bugs, sometimes dead, sometimes alive. Tiny stones. Crystals. All of that. My parents never did anything, and one time my dad slapped me because he checked my food and didn’t see anything. How dare me accuse his perfect angel August? The final straw was when we were 13 and she put actual poison in my food. I was sick for a week.

Since then, I don’t eat food I didn’t prepare, or food that I didn’t open.

I met his gaze. “It’s nothing. Just a personal preference.” I said.

He looked like he didn’t believe me. “Eat. The lawyer is stopping by this evening.”

“A lawyer?” I asked through a mouthful of coffee.

“Yes. For our marriage contract.”

I nearly choked. “Contract?!”

“Yes,” he replied calmly.

“What sort of things are going to be in this contract?”

“Terms and conditions. To ensure we both get the most of out this arrangement.”

I faced him. “Is it going to contain some weird sex clause?”

He looked offended.

“Sorry,” I grumbled.

He let our a long, heavy sigh. “Before we proceed, I must know,” his eyes narrowed. “Do you have a lover?”

I rolled my eyes. “Kinda too late to ask that now when I’ve already agreed to marry you.”

“Answer the question, Andy.”

There it is again. The way he says my name. Soft but with a sharp edge. Like he’s warning me.

I cleared my throat. For the most part, I’ve tried not to think about Liam and August. But now, everything comes rushing back.

“I had one, yesterday,” I said quietly. “But he…we were supposed to get married but he…I found him in bed with my step sister. We’ve been dating for three years and he just…he just destroyed everything. Apparently she’s the one he’s always loved and he’s going to marry her and I was just there as a very convenient atm and I don’t even know why I didn’t seen any of this happening and I just—“

“Andy. Breathe.”

His sharp voice cut me off. I realized I was rambling. Tears clouded my vision and before I knew it, I was wailing my heart out.

A chair scrapped back. Strong arms wrapped around me, holding me to a muscular chest. I didn’t care that this man had chucked me off the railing. I didn’t care that he was a hundred percent asshole.

He was holding me. He was warm and firm and smelled so good. His hand rubbed my back, his other hand tangled in my hair and holding me so I could cry as freely as possible.

I can’t remember the last time I was this shameless with a total stranger.

But it hurt. The internal pain was too much. My heart ached like it wanted to burst.

I loved Liam. I was willing to give him everything. I bought a ring with my own money.

Why. Why. Why.

Why do I have to suffer this much?

“There won’t be a sex clause,” Dante’s voice said. The tone of his voice was murderous and cold. I looked up, blinking back tears as our eyes met.

“W-what?”

He cupped my face, wiping my tears away and tilting my head up till the space between us vanished.

“Tell me, Andy,” his voice settled inside my gut like a boulder. “Do you want revenge?”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, stopped working, then shot up to my throat.

“I…” I started, swallowing the lump of unshed tears in my throat. He waited, his gaze murderous and predatory, waiting for me to say it.

“I want the sex clause.”