Page 4 of Bound in Matrimony (Belonging to Him Trilogy #3)
Chapter Four
Seraphina
My fingers tremble as I take Knox's face between my palms. The stubble on his jaw scrapes against my skin, sending familiar shivers down my spine.
His dark eyes bore into mine with that intensity that still makes my knees weak, even after everything we've been through.
I've spent my entire adult life analyzing brushstrokes and color palettes, but nothing I've ever studied compares to the masterpiece of his face when he looks at me like I'm the only woman in existence.
"Say it again," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. We're standing in his penthouse—our penthouse now, I suppose—with the lights of Manhattan twinkling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows like earthbound stars.
"I want to marry you, Knox." The words come easier this time than when he first proposed three days ago and I stood frozen, terrified by the magnitude of what he was offering. "I want to be your wife."
He doesn't smile, not exactly. Knox Vance doesn't do something as simple as smile when he's feeling this much.
Instead, his expression transforms, softens around the edges while simultaneously becoming more intense at the center—like a photograph where only the subject is in focus and everything else blurs away.
"I need more than want, Seraphina." His hands slide around my waist, pulling me against the hard wall of his chest. "I need to know you're certain. That you're not going to wake up tomorrow and decide this was a mistake."
The old me—the woman I was before Knox crashed into my carefully curated life—would have hedged, would have asked for time to think it through, to make endless pro and con lists and consult with trusted friends. That woman was always afraid of making the wrong choice.
But that woman never knew what it felt like to be loved by Knox Vance.
"I'm certain." I twist the emerald ring he placed on my finger, still getting used to its considerable weight. "I've never been more certain of anything."
His eyes narrow slightly. "You hesitated when I asked you."
"I did," I admit, because lying to Knox is pointless. He reads me like I'm a first edition with extra-large print. "I was scared."
"And now?"
"Still scared," I whisper, watching his jaw tighten. Before he can pull away, I press closer. "But not of marrying you. I'm scared of how much I need you. How completely you've taken over every corner of my life. My heart. How I can't imagine breathing properly if you weren't in my world."
Something primal flashes across his face, that possessive hunger that used to frighten me but now makes heat pool low in my belly.
"That's not a weakness, Seraphina. That's just finally admitting what I've known since the moment I saw you critiquing that hideous installation at the Brennan Gallery."
I laugh softly, remembering how he stood silently beside me, listening to my whispered commentary to myself, before leaning down to murmur, "I'll buy it if you'll have dinner with me." I'd been horrified, then intrigued, then unable to resist.
"I know that now." My fingers find the buttons of his crisp white shirt, toying with the top one.
"But I need you to understand something, Knox.
When I make this promise to you—when I stand in front of whoever you've arranged to marry us—" his slight smile confirms my suspicion that he's already taken care of everything "—I won't be making a promise I intend to break. Ever."
He goes very still against me, the way he does when something matters more than he can express.
"I've watched my parents drift apart over thirty years of marriage.
I've seen colleagues treat vows like temporary arrangements.
That's not what I'm offering you." I swallow hard, finding the courage to be as direct as he always is.
"When I say I'll be your wife, I mean your only wife.
Forever. No matter what happens, no matter how hard it gets. I won't walk away."
My diamond-studded bracelet—his gift after our first night together—catches the light as I fidget with it, twisting it around my wrist in that nervous gesture I've never been able to break. "I know that's a lot. Maybe too much in today's world. But?—"
His mouth crushes against mine, stealing my words and my breath in one devastating kiss. His hands slide into my hair, angling my head exactly how he wants it, his tongue demanding entrance that I eagerly grant. The taste of him—expensive whiskey and something uniquely Knox—floods my senses.
When he finally pulls back, we're both breathless.
"Say it again," he demands, and this time I know exactly what he needs to hear.
"I promise to be yours forever, Knox. Only yours." I press my palm against his thundering heart. "I promise to be faithful, to be honest, to fight for us if things get hard. I promise that when I say 'I do,' I'll mean it with everything I am."
Emotion transforms his face—vulnerability he shows to no one but me.
"I've never needed anything like I need that promise from you," he confesses, his voice raw. "I've built an empire from nothing. I can lose it all tomorrow and rebuild it twice as large. But you—" His fingers tighten on my hips. "Losing you would destroy me, Seraphina."
The weight of his admission settles over me, not as a burden but as a precious gift. This powerful man who commands boardrooms and bends industries to his will is offering me his most vulnerable truth.
"You won't lose me." I rise on tiptoes, pressing my forehead to his. "I promise."
"Seraphina." My name is a prayer on his lips. "Do you understand what you're promising? What being my wife will mean?"
"Tell me," I whisper, though I already know.
His hands slide possessively down my sides. "It means you're mine in every way possible. It means I'll never let you go. It means no matter where you are, what you're doing, who you're with—you belong to me."
A year ago, those words would have sent me running. Now, they feel like coming home.
"Yes," I agree, my voice stronger than I expected. "That's exactly what I'm promising."
The tension drains from his body as if I've given him the one thing he's been searching for his entire life. His kiss this time is different—slower, deeper, a seal on the vow we've just exchanged.
"Tomorrow," he says against my lips. "We'll be married tomorrow."
My eyes widen. "Tomorrow? But?—"
"Everything's arranged. Has been since the day I put that ring on your finger." His smile is wolfish, confident. "Unless you need more time?"
It's a challenge, a test of the promise I just made. Instead of the panic I might have felt before, I feel only certainty.
"Tomorrow is perfect." I slide my hands under his shirt, feeling the hard muscle beneath warm skin. "But what will you do with me tonight, Mr. Vance?"
His growl vibrates through both our bodies as he lifts me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist. "I'm going to make sure you remember exactly who you're promising yourself to, future Mrs. Vance."
As he carries me toward the bedroom, I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent, knowing with complete certainty that I've never made a promise I meant more.