"You're serious?"

  Atticus smiled, but it was cold, sending goosebumps up my arms. "I am very serious. We were hashing out wedding plans. Do you mind?"

  Bronson nodded curtly, shook hands with Atticus again, and said he'd be seeing him soon. And then he was gone.

  When Atticus sat down again, he released my hand. "So, are you going to tell me what that was about?"

  I shook my head. "No. I just can't stand him."

  "Which I understand, but do you want to tell me why?"

  "No, I do not."

  He nodded once then turned his attention back to his food. Somehow along the way, ginger ale appeared at my side, and he nodded at me. "Drink it slowly. It'll settle your stomach."

  I shook my head. "Why?"

  "You need it. You were looking a little piqued."

  As I sipped the ginger ale, he continued. "Okay. We have talked a lot about what I need from you and this marriage. Do you have anything you need from me?"

  I thought about it for a moment. He'd already signed the deal with my father. What more could I ask for? Then it hit me, and I realized it was time to negotiate.

  "Okay, protect Morgan."

  His brows knitted. "What do you mean?"

  "Morgan, my sister, protect her. If I do this, you make sure my father doesn't sell her off to the next highest bidder because he doesn't know how to manage his company and he is once again in a hard spot."

  "Do you think he would?"

  I leveled a gaze on him, and he nodded solemnly. "Of course, he would. Consider it done."

  "I need one more thing, actually."

  He cocked his head, and I could see a spark of gentleness in there. It was fleeting, but I had seen it for a moment.

  I swallowed and continued. "You leave Morgan alone too."

  He stiffened and jerked back an inch, and confusion was written all over his face. "What do you mean, leave Morgan alone?"

  "You don't touch her. You don't talk to her. You don't intimidate her. She deserves to be left alone."

  "Is that who you think I am?"

  "Well, I heard my father. He indicated that she was the original bargain."

  "She wasn't, or at least he didn’t spell that out. And when your father said he wanted to keep the business in the family, I didn't quite see what he meant."

  "Okay, but Morgan is the only thing I care about. That and my employees. You were willing to marry her as of yesterday afternoon. If I'm taking her place, pretending for the world, I can't have you sniffing after my sister."

  He looked affronted. "That would never happen."

  I looked at the document he’d sent me on my tablet and stared at it for a long moment. I’d told Lance I could handle this. But if I signed this, that would be it, wouldn’t it?

  But if you sign this, you have protection for Morgan.

  I grabbed the stylus and scrawled my signature.

  When I showed him the tablet, he smirked. "Let's get out of here."

  I nodded. Somehow during our exchange, our food had already been boxed up, and I was given a discreet bag to take with me.

  "What’s this?"

  "I noticed you didn't eat. Obviously, you're anxious. I just wanted to make sure you ate something."

  "Oh, that's thoughtful. Thank you."

  He led me through the restaurant as several guests stood to give him a nod or speak a small greeting. When we reached the sidewalk, there was a car waiting. "That's my driver, Gavin. He'll take you anywhere you need to go."

  "So that's it? Do we shake or something?"

  He laughed, but then he quickly sobered. "I do want to make one thing clear."

  "What’s that?" I asked warily.

  "Morgan was never an option. I'll protect her, like I said. And I'm not interested in her. I like my women to be actual women. She's still a kid."

  "Okay." The word came out strained, and some of the tightness in my chest eased. "In that case, I guess I'm going to be your wife."

  Then he wrapped his arms around me, and I froze. "What are you doing?"

  "Rule number one,” he whispered in my ear. “This has to look real. I'm going to kiss you now."

  Chapter 10

  Atticus

  Fucking Christ, she smelled good. Like lemons and something sweet.

  I wrapped my hands around her waist, more than aware that we were being watched and that Gavin was grinning at me like an idiot from the car.

  When I eased my hand along her neck, sliding my fingertips into the base of her hair, the soft tresses tempted me into sinking my hand in further. When I pressed my fingertips gently against the spinal column in her neck, she relaxed, her lips parting ever so slightly.

  And those deep dark eyes of hers were glued to my lips. When her tongue peeked out to moisten her bottom lip, I couldn't help the little groan of need that escaped.

  Dipping my head, I brushed her lips with mine ever so gently at first. But one taste and my tenuous control snapped.

  I deepened the kiss, devouring her mouth as if I had been starved for days. My hands roamed down her back, pressing her closer to me. I could feel her curves against my body, the softness of her breasts pushing against my chest.

  I slid my hands down her back and over her ass, pulling her closer to me as my dick pulsed with aching need. And all I could think about was how to prolong this. How to make this moment last forever.

  I couldn't stop myself even if I tried. The feel of her pressed up against me was like the headiest aphrodisiac I had ever known. I groaned as her tongue swept against mine, and I knew I was falling into the abyss.

  The need to taste her, to have her, rose up like a tidal wave. I tried to fight it, to wrangle it, but I couldn't. I had to have more, had to make her mine.

  Only Gwen. Only Gwen.

  She made these sexy little mewling sounds at the back of her throat, and my hand automatically tightened in her hair, fisting the soft tresses.

  I was in trouble.

  Back off before you maul the woman on the street. You've made your point.

  I wanted to be inside her, to feel her body tense and convulse around me. I wanted to be buried deep in her sweet heat, to feel those soft velvet walls clenching around my hardened cock. I wanted to be balls deep in her and see the shock in her eyes when she found out how deep I could go.

  I wanted to stretch her open and watch as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she howled with pleasure. I wanted to watch her lips part and her breasts heave as I filled her with my cock. I wanted to watch as she arched her body and called out my name. I wanted it all.

  Fuck me.

  I dragged my lips from hers, fighting for breath.

  She looked up at me and I could see the lust and shock reflected in her gaze.

  She took a step back. "What the hell was that?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

  "The kind of kiss that seals a deal."

  Chapter 11

  Gwen

  The morning post kissmageddon, I could still feel every slide of his tongue through my entire body. I was still freaking tingling.

  You cannot think about that kiss when you see him. This is business. That’s all.

  I shifted on my feet as I stared up at the sunlight glinting on the glass at the Park Tower.

  The whole neighborhood screamed wealth and opulence. All around me, women sashayed by in their red-soled shoes, while others pushed ten-thousand-dollar strollers. I knew I’d had a privileged life. I’d been educated at Dalton, then Columbia, rubbed elbows with the Hamptons summer kids, but this, this was something else.

  I couldn't do this. I’d never fit in. I tried to turn around and drag my roller bag behind me. But then I saw Atticus’s car across the street, and Gavin grinned at me and nodded his head from the driver’s side window. I gave him a little wave and then turned right back around.

  There was no way I was going to let him see me run away. The building was gorgeous. It was one of Hank Goodwin's green buildings, and it even had some multipurpose uses. There were portions that were open to the public, like a park for children. It was a stunning piece of architecture, and I was going to live in it.

  Don't be a chicken shit.

  Tightening my grip on my suitcase, I gave Gavin a smile and charged forward. It was going to be hard enough managing my life outside of this marriage. The acquisition, making sure my father didn't have any more shenanigans in mind for Morgan. Although, I did trust Atticus when he said he would manage that. I just hoped he would keep his word.

  My whole team would be freaking out. Four years ago, before I joined my father's company, I had a ragtag team of engineers, a couple of product managers, and an idea for the multipurpose algorithm that could be built, not just with facial recognition, but to actually do medical imaging, help with missing persons, teaching applications, etcetera. And surprisingly, we'd done well. But we had run out of money and needed a big investor. Cue my father to act like he was actually being helpful.

  We'd been absorbed into Becks Incorporated with all kinds of promises about how we would get to grow and develop.

  And we had. We'd also grown a lot larger than I wanted, and there was a lot of bureaucracy. And now to get bought out like this… It was a wound none of us needed.

  But that was a problem for another day. Today, my problem was getting to know my new husband-to-be. When I walked into the slick terrazzo entry, the doorman smiled at me. He had warm brown skin, a gap between his two front teeth, and the broadest, sunniest smile I had ever seen. "Hello, Miss Becker. I'm Manny. I'm your daytime doorman. Anything you need, just call me and I'll make sure you get it."

  I tried to return his smile. "You know who I am?"

  His smile deepened and that popped a dimple. "Yes ma'am. You're the future Mrs. Price."

  Why did that make my stomach twist? I had already agreed to this. "Oh, um, how did you recognize me?"

  "Oh, Mr. Price already sent down your photo."

  "My photo?" Where the hell had Atticus gotten a picture of me?

  "Don't you worry," Manny added with a smile. "You look great."

  How I looked in a photo was hardly the problem. The problem was, somehow Atticus had a photo of me?

  I'd been in a good deal of shock when I left my parents' house on Friday. Had I failed to notice Clarissa slip him a picture of me? Also, what the hell?

  Manny took my roller bag from me. "Right this way, miss."

  He led me past the front desk and past the security station that required a key fob. "I suppose I need one of those?"

  "Yes, there's already one upstairs for you. Your key fob gives you access to the private penthouse and to the pool after hours, as well."

  "Great, there's a pool?"

  "Oh yes, there is. When we drop your bags, I'll give you a map of the whole building so you can't get lost. And if you ever do, or if you're in the elevator and you don't know where you're supposed to be going, just call down to the desk."

  "It looks like everything is taken care of."

  "Well, we try. And just so you know, there are two night doormen as well, Emilio and Derrick. Anything you need at night, they can handle. The Park Tower is very secure. You will notice blue lights everywhere. Those are safety and security lights. If anything goes wrong or you feel odd about anything, just press one of those, and it'll ring straight down to security. And in your case, if you use your keypad to access it, you'll get patched straight to Mr. Price's personal security.

  "I didn't know I would need security."

  "You won't, ma'am. This is just to make you feel more comfortable."

  "And I do.” I gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Manny. You've been very helpful."

  The ride up to the penthouse took forever. The whole time, my stomach just turned over and over again as I contemplated exactly how I ended up here. Friday night dinner had been normal and unremarkable. Right up until my father dropped the bombshell.

  Christ. I had been irritated with Atticus one hundred percent. But what my father had done, the way he’d just handed me over, or rather, the way he'd tried to hand Morgan over, I just couldn't even believe it.

  I could still see Atticus with his too-knowing eyes, and his hint of a smile. I was constantly trying to figure out what on earth he was thinking, what he was going to say, what he was going to do. He was just infuriating. Why on earth did he want to marry?

  Once the dust had settled yesterday, I'd taken a look at the original contract he sent my father. While it made me sad that I would lose control of most of my hard work, it had been fair.

  When the elevator finally slowed, I wiped my sweaty palms on my dark jeans, wrapped my hand around the handle of my suitcase, and waited for the door to open. The door into my new life. I expected to find Atticus waiting for me on the other side, but he wasn't there.

  Great, because when your new wife to be is moving in, why on earth would you be there?

  I tried not to balk at the bite of rejection. I was used to it. It sucked, but I was a big girl.

  Someone came around the corner as I stepped into the foyer, looking around. What was I supposed to do, just casually walk in?

  "Oh, you're early."

  I turned at the sound of his voice, and he smiled at me. He was handsome. Lean and tall, but not quite as tall as Atticus. "Oh, sorry,” I said. “You're not who I expected."

  "You would not be the first person to say that to me. I'm Micah, your brother-in-law-to-be." Then he gave me another broad smile that immediately put me at ease.

  Where Atticus was cold, Micah was warm. He seemed fun. "Why do I get the impression that you’re trouble?"

  "Because you seem like a smart one. Come on in. Atticus is on a call. I'll show you in."

  "I did text him to let him know I was coming."

  He shrugged. "My brother is a bit of an ass. Sorry, but you should probably know that."

  "Yeah, you know what? So is my father. I'm an asshole expert."

  "Excellent,” he laughed. “Glad I'm not alone here."

  He led me from the foyer to the expansive living room. I'd been in beautiful penthouses before. That part wasn't new, but the view of Central Park was unparalleled.

  On a clear day like today, with the sun shining bright, I could see right down into the horses and carriages giving tours. And of course, the rest of the city view was magnificent as well. It was stunning. Awe-inspiring, honestly.

  Micah grinned. "It doesn't suck, does it?"

  "No, it doesn't suck."

  "Are you hungry? Magda can make you something to eat."

  "I'm not hungry, but who's Magda?" I asked.

  "She’s our housekeeper, but let me show you where everything is. The kitchen is right this way."

  When I walked in, I realized there was no way this was just a kitchen. It looked like it belonged in the best restaurant. Marble and glass intermixed with stone, which actually gave just a hint of Tuscan influence, and all commercial grade appliances.

  "God, please tell me that Magda is some kind of professional chef, because if she’s not, that would be a sad, sad waste of a beautiful kitchen.”

  "It is a masterpiece, isn't it?"

  "Please tell me you cook. Or maybe Atticus? Because I'd hate for you to have this kitchen and not use it.”

  "Oh, you know Atticus,” he said with a grin. “He’s not really a stand in the kitchen and make something kind of person. But Magda can make anything from all over the world. You name a cuisine, and she can probably make it for you or at least figure out how it's done. She's pretty incredible.”

  I smiled at him. "I like you very much, Micah."

  "I like you too, Gwen. I think you'll be good for him,” he said, his voice sobering. He slowed as we approached what I thought was a study, but it turned out to be the library.

  "Oh my God,” I squealed. “This is freaking fantastic."

  "It was meant to be a second or third office, but I convinced Atticus that we needed to make this the library. Then when either of our mothers is visiting, they can have some solace and read."

  "Oh, different mothers, same father?"

  He nodded. "Yes, our moms actually get along, and they’re both likely to visit on occasion if you don’t mind.”

  "That’s nice. I'm glad you and Atticus are close. You’ve probably had some fun along the way."

  Micah shrugged at that. "Only a little."

  I gestured toward a set of shelves that housed nothing but romance novels. "Please tell me these get read."

  "You got me. I discovered a whole world of Sci-Fi and alien romance, and I can't stay away."

  "Oh my God, are you serious?" The revelation made me giggle. "You aren't just kidding me, right?"

  He shook his head. "No. There was an article in the New Yorker about romance novels and how there were all kinds of subgenres. So I was curious and thought I would check out a few and maybe have a laugh about it. But now here I am, caring about the blue alien who was trying to help a woman whose human spaceship crash-landed on his planet."

  "Wow, this is a conversation I never thought I'd be having."

  "Oh, Gwen, you have to read them. I'll make you a list of my favorite ones."

  "Now I’m certain I like you a lot."

  He shrugged. "You’re not the first person to tell me that. I am pretty brilliant."

  I chuckled. "We are going to start a book club. I feel like Atticus would hate that."

  "I don't really care what my brother hates," he said with a wink.

  He led me through the rest of the house, showing me the powder rooms, where his room was down the hall in case I needed anything, and finally to my room.

  I gasped. "It's huge!"

  "That's because it's the master bedroom."

  My scalp prickled with awareness, and I automatically turned to see Atticus coming down the hall from the room we had skipped. "I can take it from here, Micah,” he said.

  Micah darted his gaze between me and Atticus. "Right. Manny will let you know when the rest of your belongings have arrived. Do you have any other things you need help with?"