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A Smart Choice: Arranged Marriage Romance Page 3
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The woman standing in front of me with sheer disgust written on her face is looking for the sort of happily ever after that looks good in a handmade frame from a Pinterest board. Instead, she got me. She doesn't know shit about me or why I'm in this boat and she deserves better.
So instead of acting like a decent fucking human being and telling her the truth, I do exactly what I want to. And since it's the only chance I'm going to get before she's gone forever, I make it good.
Chapter 7
Stephany
He's trying to intimidate me but I'm determined not to let him.
Devon gets up from where he was sitting on the ground and glowers down at me, standing so close I can feel his chest brush against my nipples.
The way my body reacts surprises me. I'm completely unprepared to feel my nipples stiffen at the hint of contact as though they're reaching out for his touch.
My instinct is jump away from him. To move backward, maybe turn and run all the way to my car and never look back.
I am not about to give him that kind of power. He may be taller, and bigger, and...gulp...muscular and smell really good. What's that cologne?
The cigarette he crushed under his heel when he stood up lingers on him. Not in a way that stinks like cigarettes, but just enough to bring back faint memories of family get-togethers when I was young, before all my uncles stopped smoking. Until right this minute, I hadn't realized that I associate the smell of smoke with manliness.
Devon's dominance of my personal space unnerves me. The smell of smoke and whiskey and cologne and the way he towers over me all come together in a heady combination that reeks of man. Not boy, not guy, but pure, raw masculinity and even though I'm not the least bit impressed with him or his family and I'm 100% sure this man has zero interest in me or in getting married at all, I have to force myself not to swoon into his damn arms like some 1920s starlet.
So when he closes what little distance there is between us in a sudden move, I am completely unprepared.
I have just enough time to get my hands trapped between us before I'm pinned firmly against his chest. His hand holds me by the back of my neck, forcing my head to tilt up to meet his and his lips crash against mine.
My gasp of surprise allows his tongue to push between my lips and suddenly the only thing I'm aware of is the way he feels against me. Solid, unyielding, utterly commanding.
His chest is nothing but hard muscle under my open palms that suddenly aren't making an effort to push him away.
The kiss started out demanding, Devon taking for his own pleasure, but as I feel my body respond to his, it begins to deepen. His grip loosens on the back of my neck and his hand slides down my spine. He must have pocketed the flask he was drinking from because his other hand is tangling through my hair.
The whole time my brain screams at me to break away while my body refuses to obey. I can only stand there, letting him press my body tightly against his with his erection pressing insistently into my gut. It's so hard and strong that I know I wouldn't be able to resist cupping my hand around it just to get an idea of how big it really is if my hands weren't trapped between us.
I'm so damn glad my hands are trapped. Because this is...totally...unacceptable.
Oh God, I think I just moaned.
Devon's hands seem to have decided that because I haven't kneed him in the balls yet it must mean that I want more. My brain tells my knee to make contact with balls but instead I tilt my hips slightly and move my feet apart to allow his fingers to run up my thigh till I can feel them under my skirt, brushing against my mound and then slipping down and stroking the wetness that seems to have found its way between my legs.
This is why Raven says no booze on the first date. Because people make stupid decisions when they've been drinking. Devon left the table a good 15 minutes before I did. He's been out here drinking that whole time. A quality whiskey that tastes divinely masculine as I drink it off his lips.
Devon's been drinking-- what the hell is my excuse?
"Let's go back to my room."
His voice is thick and harshly whispered against my ear as his lips leave mine long enough that I get a chance at fresh air. When he shifts his body so that he can trail fiery hot kisses across my jawline, he releases my hands from their prison against his insanely ripped torso.
Instead of returning to their rightful place at my side, the traitorous things slip down his body memorizing the feel of each ripple and bulge under his shirt before landing exactly where I told them not to go.
Oh my lord, that is huge.
"Now," his hisses as his teeth catch my earlobe between them and I feel how serious he is as he pressed that bulge into my hand.
Behind us, the door to the restaurant opens and I hear a group of people walk out. Voices break the illusion of privacy that Devon and I were sharing.
The interruption gives me a chance to drag fresh air into my lungs and the spell is broken. Without another word, I'm racing toward my car and pulling out of the parking lot without looking back.
There's nothing smart about choosing Devon James as a husband at all.
As soon as I get my senses back, I'm calling Raven and calling this off.
Chapter 8
Devon
Can't say I'm a fan of the turn things took. I almost had her in my bed for the night.
I was willing to give her one night.
That kiss was supposed to run her off, convince her to get the hell away from me.
Instead. Shit. My dick's still half hard from the memory of her body up against mine. I didn't expect that kind of chemistry, but once our lips touched it was like fucking fire in my blood. Like I couldn't get enough of her, couldn't get close enough to her.
I lift my hand to my face just to inhale the sweet smell of her pussy that lingers on my fingertips. Her scent is enough to keep my mind off the mess I'm in as I walk up to the hotel.
No matter how fucking good she felt in my arms, with her little hand rubbing my cock through my pants or how tight her little pussy was around my fingers, I have to keep thinking straight.
She's beautiful and brilliant, she's got this light that emanates from her and marrying me would put it out in a heartbeat. She deserves better than me.
I decide to take a detour on the way back to my room and head down onto the beach.
Leaving my shoes behind, I roll up my pants and head down to the smooth sand where the waves are washing up on the shore.
I walk down the beach for a long time, picking up pebbles and sea shells and feeding them back to the retreating waves trying to ignore the demons that are threatening to take over my thoughts.
It's not that I don't want a wife. Hell, I'd give about anything to find a woman that could put up with me. A strong woman with a mind of her own and a tongue that's just as quick to speak her mind as it is to wrap around my dick but women like that don't grow on trees.
Hell, I don't think they grow anywhere.
The way Stephany held her poise while dealing with my family at dinner comes to mind. The way she didn't back down when I thought I was going to scare her off even though I was an ass during dinner and walked out without talking to her.
I hear myself groan out loud when I think of the way she opened her mouth for me and slipped her hot little tongue against mine. So willing, so ready for me.
If we hadn't gotten interrupted who knows what would have happened?
I find a decent sized rock and throw it over the incoming waves, so far out that I can't see where it hits the water.
A girl like Stephany would be perfect for me. She'd keep me on my toes and knock me off my feet. It's just a damn shame I can't let that happen.
My family has been on a mission to get me married off since I finished school.
Raven knows. I'm sure she does. She's known from the beginning that the application wasn't my idea. That's why she called me so many times in the beginning. Why she came out east to visit me in person even.
Sh
e said she just needed to get to know me personally, on my own turf where I was comfortable so she could see me in my natural element. I think she was testing me.
Randal won't sign the majority share of the business over to me and give up control of the place till I'm settled down with a wife.
I'm surprise Dad's pushing me into this but he knows how his brother is and he knows how bad I want to take over the Foundation.
I'm sure Mom wants me to get hitched and give her grandbabies for all the same reasons that all moms do.
The current president of The Compass Foundation doesn't give two shits about me, or what makes me happy. My uncle sure as hell doesn't give two shits about the poor girl that gets conned into signing the pre-nup. He's got his notions of what kind of image the new company president needs to present and I don't get the job till I fit that image.
I wish I didn't want the job so damn bad.
Maybe someday, after the company is in my control and there's nothing they can do about it, then maybe I'll have room in my life for the real deal. But that's gonna take awhile and when my uncle sees what I have planned for the company-- it's going to get ugly.
It would take a hell of a woman to suffer that drama with nothing to gain from it but me.
No.
I know I can't put it off forever, but I can't let it be Stephany.
Walking back up the beach and picking up my shoes, I make my way back to the hotel.
I'll call Raven tomorrow. Maybe stop by her office since I'm so close. I think it's time I had a serious talk with my matchmaker about what I'm really looking for.
Chapter 9
Stephany
I don't even know why I agreed to meet Raven in person.
Her office is in Pacific Grove, about an hour's drive from me on a good day, but I've never met her in person. Never been to her offices at all.
I kinda got the impression that she didn't see clients in her office, or at all really. All our interviews were by email or Skyped.
After a long and dramatic retelling of the worst dinner date ever to Kyle and Jaime who were waiting up for me when I got home with 3 bottles of cheap wine and enough tacos from a local fast food place that's open 24 hours a day to feed a small country, I emailed Raven to let her know that Devon was anything but a "smart choice" as she put it.
I was still hung over from cheap wine and tacos when Raven called me back in the morning. I don't know how I got talked into driving out to meet with her in person but here I am pulling up in front of the converted Victorian wondering why Raven couldn't just talk on the phone.
Maybe she needs me to sign paperwork or something, I think as I enter the building.
It looks like the place is closed, there's no one sitting at the receptionist desk to greet me and most of the lights are off.
"Stephany!" Raven's voice is familiar but sounds so much warmer in person. She also looks younger in person than she did in our Skype sessions. "Come, let's hang out in the kitchen, I have coffee made."
I follow her through the front office into the kitchen. It's been modernized, but it's still a kitchen. Raven gestures toward the seating area that would normally be an eat in dining nook but it's been remodeled as a conversation area. Plush chairs are scattered around a large, round table and I sink into one as Raven brings me a mug of coffee.
"OK, so explain," she says as she reaches for the creamer that sitting on the table. Her voice is gentle and clear, totally casual like we're just old friends hanging out and catching up. This doesn't feel like business at all.
I help myself to sugar and creamer and stir it into my coffee while I try to decide on the best place to start.
"Well, I guess it comes down to I just don't think Devon and I are compatible," I offer.
Raven's eyes focus on me intently. There's nothing cynical about the way she contemplates me as she takes me in. I feel like she can see my soul and I'm not sure exactly what I can do to make sure I show her the best side of that. So I sit and sip my coffee while I wait for her to respond.
"All right, I understand that. Tell me about your first meeting." She waves her hand, cutting me off before I can start talking, "I don't want to know how you feel about Devon, I want to know what happened on the date."
"Well, they flew out here to meet me," I watch her eyes narrow. I think her jaw tenses but she doesn't speak, so I continue, "and I drove over to Monterey to meet them for dinner. His parents--"
Raven's hand flies up again, waving to interrupt while she swallows the coffee she had in her mouth. "His parents?" She sounds irritated.
"Um, yeah," I feel lost, "His parents and his uncle and aunt were there."
Raven nods but it's tense, "Did you bring your team too?"
My eyes widen and I shake my head, "No. They didn't go. You told me that we were deviating from the pattern, that I didn't need to bring my team because you made the match personally."
Oh. I see the look on Raven's face and I immediately understand. Devon was supposed to be alone.
My skin tingles at the thought of how the evening might have gone if it had just been the two of us. He seemed so uninterested in me from the moment I arrived, all through dinner, but when we were alone... I can still feel his hands on me and hear the desire in his voice as he commanded me back to his room.
If his family hadn't been with us, acting like snobs and examining me like a show pony What could have gone differently?
It doesn't matter, I decide. Maybe Devon would have made a better first impression. Maybe I would have ended up back in his room. I can't say for sure, but at some point I'd have still met those people. I'd still have found out what kind of person Devon really is, found out that he doesn't want a wife. At least, not the kind of wife I plan on being.
Everything would have come out eventually. I'm better off this way. Finding out how incompatible we are before I get too deep into it.
Raven sets her coffee mug on the table and shifts in her chair, pulling her feet up and tucking them under her.
"Well, I'd hoped your first meeting with Devon would have more space for just the two of you." She sighs and it's a sad sound. "I can't say I'm particularly surprised that his family insisted on joining you, but before you give up on Devon let me tell you what you don't see."
I can't imagine what Raven could tell me that would make up for his behavior at dinner. I settle back in my chair and listen.
"Devon's file has been on my desk for years now," Raven tells me, "I knew the minute I read through it that he didn't want to fill it out but the fee was paid in full from a credit card in his name and every time I contacted him, he assured me the answers were all from him and that he is, in fact, serious about a match and that he intends to marry whoever is picked for him."
Raven sips her coffee and continues, "I didn't believe him for a minute. I've been doing this a long time, there's a reason I'm good at it. Devon James does not want his team to pick out a wife for him."
"So he doesn't want to get married," I say flatly.
Raven shakes her head, her long, straight hair rustling around her shoulders, "No. I said he doesn't want his team to pick out a wife for him. He doesn't want an arranged marriage, but he very much would like a woman to build a future with.
"His team, his parents and that uncle of his, are the reason I'm involved in Devon's life at all. They aren't content to let him choose on his own, they're the ones who found me, they're the ones who made sure I got paid, and they're the ones who call me on a regular basis wondering why I haven't delivered a docile little kitten to Devon's bed yet."
I watch Raven's jaw work tightly as she makes face that does nothing to hide her pure disgust for Devon's family.
"So he's just a puppet? Like his family controls him and tells him what to do? Because I don't really see myself with a man like that at all," I warn her.
"Don't mistake silence for weakness, Stephany," she tells me, "I've never figured out the real reason that Devon is playing along with their plans to
marry him off, but that man is anything but a pawn in someone else's game.
"Devon has his own agenda and once he realizes that agenda, he will be utterly devoted to the woman he gives his heart to."
"Utterly devoted?" I'm skeptical, "What gives you that impression?"
Raven laughs, it's a genuine, joyful sound, "I've talked with him, I met with him personally." She laughs and shakes her head, "I drank beer and watched a baseball game with him.
"It took quite a bit of effort to get him to let down his guard and stop trying to anticipate what I wanted to hear, but I still managed to spend an entire afternoon getting to know your Devon."
"My Devon?" I repeat Raven's phrasing sarcastically, "I don't see how you get that at all."
She's nodding and looking at me like she knows something I don't, "I've had Devon's file on my desk for years. I've always known this wasn't his idea so I keep putting it back at the bottom of the pile, hoping one day he'd contact me on his own and tell me to either scrap it or get serious about it.
"Just because I haven't actively looked for a match for him, doesn't mean he's not on my mind when new applications come in. When I read your application, Devon was the first person I thought of.
"I know he seems rough around the edges, but give him a chance. Devon isn't just a smart choice, he's the right choice for you."
Raven stands and takes her mug to the sink and I instinctively know that our meeting is over.
"But he is a choice, Stephany," she says with a smile, "just make sure you're making that choice based on who he is, not what he appears to be."
Chapter 10
Devon
I suspect that Raven agreed to meet me this morning because of my family name, because she got paid in full years ago and for all I know someone's paying her some sort of retainer to keep my application open.