Be My Bride (Make It Marriage Book 8)

by Nia Arthurs

  Hansley

  I hear the attendant knocking on the door from some faraway place that has no bearing in reality.

  I’m drunk again.

  But it’s not from liquor this time.

  I’m high as a kite on Asia. Intoxicated by her sweet lips.

  Her soft body plastered to the hard planes of mine.

  The little moans she makes in the back of her throat.

  This kiss isn’t chaotic.

  I’m not thrusting in hard and fast.

  I don't want to.

  I need to enjoy her. This. Everything.

  Like the last piece of cake. Like the last drop of rain.

  I can’t rush through a delicacy.

  Not when it’s so rare.

  So precious.

  She wraps one leg around my waist. The hem of the dress hikes above her thighs. Shows off her long legs. Traps my hips in place until I’m almost where she needs me to be.

  I smile at her eagerness. My hands slide against her shoulders to shove her dress and her bra straps off in one sweep.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  The attendant’s voice rings out. “Mr. and Mrs… are you…? I heard moaning. Um… should I come back?”

  Asia jumps and pushes me away.

  Her lips part as she sucks in a deep breath.

  My gaze fixes there, on her mouth. The maroon lipstick that branded my chest this morning is very similar to the natural color of her lips.

  Her shade is a little darker, a little more sultry.

  Harsh overhead lights point to enlarged pupils that stare at everything but me.

  She’s trying to gather herself. Raking her slender fingers through her hair, Asia stands straight. She presses her palm into the wall to remain on her feet.

  “What do you want to do, Mrs. Nicholas?” I tease her, playing with a lock of her hair. “There’s a mirror right there.”

  Asia shoots me a dark look.

  The attendant clears her throat. “I-I’ll come back. Have a nice… um…”

  “Wait!” Asia charges past me and throws the door open. “Come in.”

  The attendant’s eyes blow up. “Look, I respect you and your… um… lifestyle, but I have a boyfriend. And he wouldn’t… um… I don’t think I should—”

  Asia’s look of pure horror makes me laugh out loud.

  I grip her waist, pull her in for a forehead kiss and whisper loud enough for the attendant to hear. “How much should we offer to change her mind?”

  “Are you kidding?” She shoves me. “Get out!”

  Still chuckling, I wink at the attendant—who’s blushing about three different shades of red—and head to the waiting room.

  The moment I take my seat, I scroll to my email and try to get my mind off Asia’s lips.

  Normally, I'd start the day checking my phone and going through business inquiries. It’s a habit I’ve cultivated through the years. I play hard at night and work hard all day—including the weekends. There’s always something to do.

  This morning, I got thrown off my schedule when I woke up to find I suddenly had a wife, but I figure I can catch up on some correspondences now that I have the motivation and the time.

  Something tells me Asia’s not going to come out and get my opinion on her outfits any time soon.

  Not that I need to give an opinion.

  She’ll look great in anything.

  With a smile still lingering on my face, I tap on the email icon and scroll through the messages. As I’m reading, I notice a new email notification on the side of the screen.

  The blood drains from my face when I see the heading.

  Jensen Software & Technologies Wishes To Cancel The Contract

  Jerking forward, I plant both feet on the floor and tap on the message to read the rest of it. A curse slips past my lips and taints the air, winding around the mindless pop music easing from the speakers.

  Jensen’s canceling the contract. The reasons listed are corporate mumbo-jumbo, but I’d bet my Lambo that it has something to do with the scandal I caused with my Vegas wedding videos.

  Damn.

  Brett’s gonna kill me.

  Shooting out of the chair, I move to a quieter part of the boutique and call one of my guys at Jensen Corp. Brett’s negotiating abilities are impeccable, but I had someone quietly spying on the board so we could have a heads up.

  The phone rings.

  And rings.

  I tap my fingers against my side, every muscle tense as I wait for the mole to pick up.

  Our conversation is brief and to the point.

  But having all the facts makes the situation worse.

  Footsteps sound behind me.

  I glance around and find Asia walking into the room. She’s wearing a white blouse that drapes over her body and rides low on her shoulders, exposing the creamy brown of her chest and neck. Ripped jeans hug her thighs and flatter her already amazing shape.

  “You look beautiful,” I say, trying to hide the stress behind a tight smile.

  Asia sees right through me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I hand the attendant my card.

  She takes it and scrambles away.

  Asia trots over to me in last night’s sexy heels. “Did your parents find out about us too?”

  “They haven’t called yet.” I shrug. “So I’m guessing that’s a no.”

  “So what’s with that expression?”

  I arch an eyebrow. “What expression?”

  She pools her eyebrows together. “That ‘the world just fell on my head’ look.” Her face relaxes and she studies me intently. “It’s something bad, right?”

  “You want shoes too?” I nod to her feet.

  “What?”

  “I saw some sneakers around here.” I start to move past her. “Could be more comfortable than spending all day in heels—”

  She snatches my arm. “Hansley.”

  I pull back around and look at her.

  Dark eyes pin me in place. “What’s going on? Did you find another story about us?”

  “No.” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s work.” I try to keep it vague. “There’s been a slight… problem.”

  She winces. “You got in trouble because of this?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Tell me.”

  “We lost a very important contract,” I say carefully. “One we’ve been slowly coaxing for a while now.”

  My conversation with the Jensen Corp employee basically confirmed it.

  “Jensen didn’t call a board meeting, Hansley. He sent the email himself. I think this is personal.”

  “Did he list a reason to the board?”

  “Due to the recent negative publicity surrounding the C.E.Os of Nicholas and McQueen…”

  “Got it.” I run a hand over my mouth. “It’s crystal clear.”

  Asia’s expression crashes with guilt when I fall silent.

  Moving closer to her, I lift her chin. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I posted the video,” she mumbles.

  “And I proposed in the first place.” I glance away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Her bottom lip moves between her teeth as she does the exact opposite of my instructions.

  My phone buzzes.

  I check it.

  “That’s Tierra. They’re here.”

  The attendant returns with the card and a receipt. She gives me and Asia a shy look before averting her eyes.

  “Thank you,” Asia says softly.

  I nod at her. “You sure you don’t want the shoes?”

  She shakes her head, her expression so serious I know that getting comfortable footwear is the last thing on her mind.

  I turn fully to her. “What size are you?”

  “What?”

  I eye her feet and guess. “Size seven?” I give the card back to the attendant. “Can you bring me a pair of sneakers?”

  “Hansley, everyone is waiting.”
She frowns at me. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Let them wait.”

  “You’re being rude.”

  I drive her by the shoulders and steer her to a sofa. “They’re used to it.”

  The attendant hands me the shoes and a new pair of socks. When Asia tries to go for the items and put them on herself, I swat her hands away.

  I want to do this.

  I need to do this.

  Taking care of her is the only thing keeping the panic at bay.

  If I allow myself to think about all the families that’ll be impacted by our failure to secure the Jensen deal—

  If I let the self-hate pile up—

  “It’s not your fault either you know,” Asia says softly.

  “This one is on me.” I set her leg on my thigh.

  “Why are you so hard on yourself?”

  “My recklessness is fine as long as I don’t get people hurt.”

  It’s why I have my two-day rule with women. Why I don’t skip work even if I’m hung-over.

  These lines protect others from me.

  “Is getting married in Vegas that big a deal?”

  I focus on rolling the ankle socks up and then slipping her feet into the first shoe.

  She sighs. “We were just… we made a mistake. I mean, it was fun in the moment, but—”

  “Having fun shouldn’t come at a cost that someone else has to pay.” I glance up. Meet her eyes. Try to smile. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about. I’ll talk to Brett and we’ll try to convince Jensen to change his mind.”

  I doubt we’ll be able to. Jensen was already skittish about us and this was the chance he was waiting for to back out.

  I climb to my feet after securing Asia’s shoes and gesture to the door.

  Asia stands too. To my surprise, she slips her hand in mine and gives it a squeeze. “We got this.”

  Three words.

  And a simple smile.

  But it’s enough to blast my heart wide freaking open.

  I should tug my hand away.

  I should put some distance between us.

  Wanting her in my bed is a far cry from wanting her in my heart.

  These feelings aren’t good for anybody.

  But I don’t let go.

  I squeeze her hand back and hold on tight as we walk out of the store.

  Fifteen

  Asia

  We meet in one of the hotel’s spacious conference rooms.

  Which is already a bad sign.

  The Make It Marriage crew could have gathered in the dining room. Or at the pool. Or in an air balloon.

  Somewhere more casual.

  Less… stiff.

  My eyes dart around the conference room. Windows that take up the wall. Heavy red drapery. A huge oak table with black chairs.

  I feel like I’m pitching my graphic design business to a corporation.

  There’s even a giant television screen hanging above Venus’s head. Kayla’s pretty face stares at me from the centre of it. She’s in a hospital gown. Sweat still clings to her light brown cheeks.

  Is she on this call while in labor?

  When I met Venus at Make It Marriage a few days ago, she told me that Kayla was on maternity leave. In their C.E.O’s stead, she politely offered me a refund or a chance to be re-matched.

  I went with the refund.

  We parted amicably.

  When I met up with the Make It Marriage crew in Vegas, I was too drunk to feel awkward. I’m stone-cold sober now.

  I can barely breathe as everyone looks at me.

  Hansley’s beside me, a devil may care air about him. But I saw the distress flash in his eyes only a few minutes ago and I know that he’s not as unaffected as he wants to seem.

  My eyes drop to the sneakers he so tenderly placed on my feet.

  No one has ever put my shoes on before.

  I felt like Cinderella.

  Like some dainty princess who’d found her prince.

  But that’s not the case.

  Fairytales aren’t real. And this prince has a harem of princesses waiting to warm his bed. I can’t let myself be swayed by a few crumbs.

  This entire situation reminds me too much of my parents. When they got married, they were under pressure too—drunk on lust with a baby in the oven. Instead of moving carefully, they charged ahead armed with nothing but their passion and their youthful folly.

  Just like a delicate bubble brushing against a thorn, their ‘love’ popped in an instant. A broken marriage was all that remained.

  Hansley might be different than I first anticipated, but he’s still untrustworthy, unpredictable, and unwilling to settle down. Just a few days ago, he proudly called himself a heartbreaker.

  There’s no universe where he’d throw his playboy life aside and stay faithful to one woman. I just have to stop kissing him long enough to remember that.

  “I’m assuming all of you gathered here to congratulate us,” Hansley says, holding my hand and marching us into the room like we own it.

  Venus’s expression is the most serious I’ve ever seen her. “What happened after my wedding last night, guys?” Her eyes dip to the ring on my finger. “Did you really get married?”

  Hansley pulls out a chair for me and, when I’m seated, he plops into the one beside it. “What can I say?” He nods at Troy. “You two were so inspiring.”

  “Cut the crap, Hans.”

  “You first, Brett.”

  “Guys,” Tierra hisses, placing a hand on Brett’s shoulder.

  The best friends glare at each other.

  “Asia,” Kayla’s voice booms from the speakers, “Venus told me about Thad. I’m really sorry.” She tucks a lock of her straight brown hair behind her ear. “Even though you chose to withdraw from the program, we still consider you a part of the Make It Marriage family.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Hansley arches an eyebrow at Amina, Venus and Kayla. "Can I ask why all of you are here?” He juts his chin out at Nellie and Ina too. "Since when did this become a Make It Marriage problem?”

  “Since our name got dragged into the tabloids.” Venus lifts her phone and flashes a headline.

  Marriage Agency Gets Client Married To The Wrong Man

  Beneath the heading is a picture of me and Thad and a picture of me and Hansley.

  Amina shudders. “Some low-grade journalist wrote a piece riddled with inaccuracies . It’s spreading like wildfire and our clients are revolting.”

  “Can’t we just put out our own statement.” I clutch my fingers together. “We tell everyone the truth. Or we don’t say anything at all.”

  “Unfortunately, we’re not in a place to take another hit to the company image,” Kayla says. “We’re already in damage control mode.”

  “That’s our fault.” Tierra raises a hand. She’s wearing a guilty expression that I’m sure is mirrored on my own face. “I fell in love with a high-profile client and caused a stir.”

  “I’m not sorry about it,” Brett growls, his jaw tightening.

  “Yeah, but now Asia’s left with all this pressure.” Tierra glances at me over the table. “Are you okay? With… everything.”

  “I’m not used to all this attention.”

  “That’s his fault.” Elizabeth—a beautiful woman with frizzing brown curls and light brown skin points at Brett. “Billionaires are, unfortunately, a big deal in the media. Found that out when he,” she smiles at her husband, Brogan, “became one.”

  Nellie smiles. "As the girlfriend of a famous basketball player, I can attest to that. Misunderstandings happen often, especially when gossip magazines are involved. Your home, your business, and even your family can be affected and harassed by the media. Doing nothing isn't an option. We want to help so everyone comes out of this intact.”

  A lump forms in my throat as I watch each of them. It’s weirdly overwhelming to have all this concern aimed at me.

  I can feel how sincere everyone is about helpin
g out, but I’m also aware that my stupidity last night put them all in a really awkward place.

  My eyes lower to the table. “Things weren’t supposed to get this out of hand, but they did and that’s on me.”

  Hansley frowns intensely. “What the hell is this? An intervention? Why are you acting like we committed some grave sin?” He stalks to his feet. “What Asia and I did in our private lives is not your concern and it’s not the tabloids’ either.”

  “The reporters—“

  “Screw them. Some other scandal is going to come along and they’re going to move on. There’s no need to act like this is the end of the world.”

  “Hansley, I’m fine,” I mumble as a headache brews.

  “You’re not freaking fine.” He glares at me. “Stop saying things you don’t mean. This isn’t your fault and I resent the way everyone’s acting like we’re teenagers who ran away from home.” He glances around the room. “Fix your own damn problems instead of trying to pin it on us.”

  “Enough!” I jump to my feet.

  Hansley folds his arms over his chest. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You are,” I hiss. “You are wrong. We don’t live in a vacuum.” I lean in so only he can hear me. “I know you hate this feeling. I know you want to pretend that being reckless can only hurt you and no one else, but that’s not true.” In a louder voice, I add, “I accept that my actions inconvenienced you.” I meet Brett’s eyes. “All of you. And I’m willing to help fix it.” I suck in a deep breath and blurt, “And I think the best way to do that is staying married.”

  Kayla clears her throat. “No one is forcing you to do that, Asia.”

  “I know.” I lift my chin. “It’s my decision.”

  Hansley scoffs. “It’s mine too. And I’m against it.”

  “You know staying married is the best choice, Hans.” Brett’s voice is low and firm. “We show Jensen that you’re not the guy the tabloids made you out to be. We prove that you’re settled down. We get the contract and then you can do whatever the hell you want.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since we talked in the boutique,” I whisper to Hansley. “It’s the best option.”

  “No, it’s not,” he growls.

  “What about you, Kayla?” I turn to the screen. “Will staying married to the ‘wrong’ guy help or harm the Make It Marriage image?”