Page 24 of Accidental Groom

Her jaw steels beneath my grasp, but she does it, a little more steady this time.

I study her face, angling her head back just a bit more, forcing her eyes to lock on mine. “What doyouwant, Elena?” I ask, keeping my voice low, just for her. “Not what I’ve offered you. Not what your father expects. What do you actually want?”

Her lips part, but no words come out. She blinks at me like I’m asking her to solve quantum physics or explain the meaning of life.

“The penthouse in Manhattan,” I clarify. “Is that what you want, or are you just agreeing because it’s what I suggested?”

“I—” She stops, her brows knitting, her throat bobbing on a swallow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” My fingers graze the top of her forehead, sweeping a stray wave back behind her ear. “I’m asking you whatyouwant. Not Elena, the conscientious daughter. Not Elena, the reluctant bride.You.”

Her chin lifts, and there’s a flash of defiance in her panicked gaze, the same flash I’d seen in the private room at the church when she’d reminded me that she didn’t have a choice. But it disappears just as quickly as it came, that easy mask slipping back into place no matter how much it clearly affects her. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“It matters to me.”

The words hang between us, more honest than I intended them to be. Her gaze breaks, blinking faster, looking anywhere but me.

When she finally responds, it’s so quiet I almost miss it.

“I don’t want to go to Manhattan,” she breathes, her jaw quivering. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The admission hits me square in the chest. Of course she doesn’t want to be alone — she’s just been abandoned by everyone who should have been protecting her, passed around like a business asset, married off to a man she barely knows.

The last thing she needs is more isolation.

“Okay,” I murmur. “Where do youwantto be?”

Her gaze locks back on me, and the vulnerability there nearly breaks me. “With you.”

Two words. That’s all it takes to completely derail every thought in my head.

I shift one hand to the back of her neck and drag my other through my hair, not caring if it messes it up, trying to think past the way she’s looking at me and the memory of how she felt in my arms last night.Thisis dangerous territory. The smart thing would be to put distance between us, to maintain boundariesuntil we can figure out what will happen when George inevitably comes crawling back.

But the defeated slump of her shoulders, the glassiness of her eyes, and the way her jaw is flexed like it costs her too much to say whatshewants, tell a different story. She’s spent her entire life being told what to do, where to go, who to marry — I’m sure of that. Everyone’s treated her like she’s disposable.

I don’t want to be another man who abandons her.

“All right,” I sigh, the decision solidifying in my mind as I speak. “We’ll move your things to Highcourt Hall instead. You can stay in the guest house, if you’re okay with that.?”

She nods and wipes her eyes with the side of her thumb.

“Okay. Your sister can visit whenever she wants, stay as long as she likes. The estate’s big enough.”

I canseethe relief flood her. Her lower lip trembles, her hand stops shaking as badly, and all of it confirms exactly what I’d suspected — that she’s been bracing herself for rejection and disappointment. She’s beenexpectingit.

“Elena,” I say, tapping the underside of her chin with my knuckle to get her to look at me again. “You don’t have to bite your tongue with me. You don’t have to agree to things you don’t want just to keep the peace. This isn’t your parents’ house, understand?”

Her throat bobs. “Old habits.”

“Then break them.” The command comes out a little rougher than I wanted it to. “You’re not a child anymore, and you’re not an object. If you don’t want something, tell me. If you need something, ask for it. Your opinion matters.”

“Does it?” Her voice breaks.Christ.

“Yes,” I sigh, my thumb tracing the hairline at the nape of her neck. “It matters to me.”

She nods, though I’m not sure if it’s to me or herself. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for treating you like a human being.”