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Chapter Two

JOSHUA

“You’re going to marry my daughter.” Grady swirls the bourbon around in his crystal glass.

I nearly drop the bottle in my hand.

He’s just staring at me like he’s waiting for an answer. Like he just said the sky is blue.

“Excuse me?” I clear my throat, setting the bottle on the table between the three couches. “I’m not sure I heard you right. You want me to marry your daughter?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about our partnership lately. Emily seems quite taken with you, and who am I to deny my daughter anything? She’s a good girl, and she would make a wonderful wife.”

This is not happening right now. This has to be some sick sort of joke someone put him up to.

What the hell is he playing at?

The tufted cushion dips beneath my weight as I take a seat, reaching for my own drink.

The bourbon is smooth as it coats the back of my throat, but it doesn’t make the asinine idea any easier to swallow.

“Grady, I’m the worst man in the world to marry your daughter. Wouldn’t you want Emily to settle down with someone who isn’t going to end up in prison at some point in their lives?”

“I do.” Grady takes a sip, glancing at the strobe lights through the thick glass that separates the VIP lounge from the rest of the club. “Which is why I think you would be a good husband for her. You’ve been in the cocaine game a long time, and you haven’t done time yet.”

“The keyword is yet . We both know that sooner or later I’m going to do something that will land me behind bars, and then Emily is going to be left alone for who knows how many years.”

Though I know it’s a reach and I have no intention of ever being dumb enough to get caught, I’m hoping that he doesn’t think that.

Grady rolls his eyes, tipping his glass toward me. “She likes you, Joshua, and she wants to settle down with you.”

“I’m thirty-six, and Emily’s only twenty-three. She’s barely more than a child, Grady. I was through high school when she went into the first grade.”

He winces, his dark mustache dipping as his lips pull tight together. “It isn’t as crazy as it would seem. She is young, but she’s an adult. She knows her own mind better than the rest of us. It would be foolish to assume that she didn’t. I think you could do worse than her.”

I could do so much better too.

That is, if I had any intention of ever getting married.

But the truth is, I don’t.

I was there through my parents’ relationship. And considering what I did to my father and that I want nothing to do with my mother, why would I want that for my own life?

Besides, I’m busy enough as it is. I don’t have time for foolish things like love or relationships, much less a wife.

I sigh and lean back, slinging my arm over the couch. “Grady, even if this wasn’t insane, which, by the way it is, I couldn’t marry your daughter. You have to know that.”

He leans forward, bracing his forearms on his broad thighs, deep brown eyes narrowing as he stares me down. “And why is it so insane?”

“Because it’s marriage. It’s not something you can dictate for a person. The people involved need to want to be together.”

Hairs stick up on the back of my neck as he shifts to the side, showing off the gun tucked into the holster at his hip.

If there’s one thing Grady Granville is, it’s intimidating. The man is shaped like a brick house and has killed more people than I care to think about.

Grady sighs and shakes his head like a disappointed father. “I’m afraid you think this is a request. Perhaps a discussion, even. I would hate for you to make that mistake, Joshua.”

I keep my face relaxed, not wanting to show a hint of the unease running through me.

The second he senses I’m hesitant or there’s a weakness he can prod at, it’s all over for me.

I need him more than I care to admit, but maybe it’s time I start looking for another importer.

It would solve the problem of having to marry Emily Granville.

I wouldn’t have to put up with her endless, empty chatter or tolerate the way she looks at me with a look I’m guessing she thinks is sultry, but all it does is make my stomach turn.

Grady motions to the glass, and I top him off, even though he hasn’t finished the first pour.

“I think you aren’t quite understanding. My daughter’s happiness is of the utmost importance to me, and I should think it would matter to you, too.”

“Emily deserves to be happy, but I am the last man who could ever make her happy.”

I’m the last man who can ever make any woman happy.

The darkness surrounding my life is enough to entice for a night or two, but scary enough to be a deterrent for anyone to want to stick around.

Besides, fairy tales are great and all, but they belong in books and movies. They have no room in real life where the nitty-gritty parts of human nature come to play.

The thudding bass of the music in the VIP lounge grows louder, drowning out what Grady says next, though his lips are moving as he gives an irritated roll of his eyes. He motions to one of the men in black suits standing close to the wall.

They lean over the back of the couch.

Is this when he kills me?

I’ve thought about how I would die before, and on a couch in the middle of a crowded club wasn’t it.

A blaze of glory sounds far more interesting to me.

And that’s the problem. One of them, at least.

My brother would claim there are several more things wrong with me, the first of them being that I sell cocaine to the biggest gangs across the United States.

The man leaves Grady and flags down one of the bottle girls.

Within a few seconds, the music is lowered.

Groans form a chorus as girls in tiny dresses stop dancing and take shots instead.

Grady takes another sip of his bourbon. “Emily has a way of getting what she wants. So do I.”

“And what you want is for me to marry your daughter, who barely knows me, and for us to spend the rest of our lives together, even though we don’t know if we’re compatible or not? Grady, you have to see that Emily deserves better than that.”

I’m running out of things to say to change his mind, and I know it.

Emily is nothing but a spoiled brat who wouldn’t be able to hold her own in the real world. Even if I did want to get married, she would be the last woman I ever thought about proposing to.

I don’t have time to deal with her childish needs and behaviors. I would rather stick my head in boiling oil than put up with her for any period of time.

Someone waiting for me at home at the end of the day, as nice as it sounds, is just a dream, a fantasy.

And as realities go, if that someone was Emily, I’d rather be homeless.

Grady eyes me, his mouth pressing into a thinner line and a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want this partnership to work out, Joshua.

And if that’s the case, you should tell me now.

I’d be more than happy to end it and find someone else who wants billions of dollars in cocaine shipments a year. ”

“It’s not that.” I can’t lose him as a supplier, but I’ll die before I take Emily as my wife.

He’ll never accept that. Unless…

“I’m already married.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, and leans back in his seat as he takes another sip of his drink.

Pink strobe lights flash across his face, casting harsh shadows as he studies me.

It’s like he’s trying to see through me, and all I can do is hope that he’s not having any luck with that.

“You’re married?” He chuckles like it’s entirely unbelievable. “After years of partnership, why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? I thought we meant more to each other than that, Joshua.”

“We eloped. She’s a private woman, doesn’t like to be in the spotlight.”

He strokes a hand over his mustache, smoothing away the drops of alcohol clinging to the hairs. “And when did you have this wedding?”

“Only a couple of weeks ago. It’s still pretty new, but we’re both happy.” I force a smile on my face before taking a slow sip of the bourbon and looking out over the dance floor.

If I could be out there finding someone to spend the night with instead of dealing with Grady, I would be having a much better night.

Someone to warm my bed, to relieve some of the stress the man in front of me seems bent on piling up, sounds pretty amazing. As long as they are gone in the morning.

I’m not a playboy, not by a long shot, but even I have needs. And marriage, kids, the picket fence… None of that is for me.

For a while, when I was a kid, I could picture it, my perfect life.

But when I became old enough to understand the world, life around me, I knew I’d never let myself be in a position to be that vulnerable to someone else. Especially, a woman.

I have trouble enough as it is keeping an eye out for my brother, I don’t need to add to that.

All life ever taught me was to trust no one but myself. And I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone own me or my heart.

His glance drops to my hand. “No ring?”

“She’s more of a matching tattoo kind of woman and unfortunately, my tattoo artist is overseas right now.”

Great. Now I’m going to have to get a tattoo before he comes back to town again.

But I’ve already got more tattoos than I can count, so one more shouldn’t matter, even if it is one that I had not counted on.

Grady hums, grinning as one of the bottle girls passes with a bottle of champagne that costs close to a thousand dollars. “You should bring your wife to meet me sometime. We can celebrate. I’ll buy you a bottle, and the two of you can tell me all about how you fell in love.”

“I don’t know if that’s necessary.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he leans forward and pours himself another drink, the gun on his hip displayed more prominently than it was before.

For a second, I think it’s nothing more than a casual instance of his jacket falling open, but then he looks at me with such coldness in his eyes that I know I’m far from being out of the woods yet. Because this right here is him calling me on my bluff.

He shifts, crossing one leg over the other, swirling his alcohol around without taking another sip. “You’re going to bring her to meet me, Joshua. We’re business partners, are we not?”

“We are.” My hand curls into a fist.

His men move closer, and I relax. I have to.

Losing Grady as a supplier would ruin the business I’ve worked on building for years. He supplies all my cocaine, and cocaine makes up the bulk of my sales.

I force a smile, cheeks aching. “I’d be happy to introduce her to you the next time you’re in town. She’s a wonderful woman.”

“Good. I would hate to not know the woman that’s stealing you from my Emily.” He leaves his full glass on the table as he stands and straightens his suit jacket. “I’ve got a flight to catch, but you will introduce me to this woman if you want to keep our deal going.”

“I will.”

“And you should remember that divorce is always an option.” He gives me a friendly smile and claps me on the shoulder.

“Actually, it isn’t. I love my wife.” My tone is firm, though the words are bitter on my tongue.

It took my father being killed to end my parents’ marriage, as toxic as it was. Divorce would have been a blessing. And even if none of them actually cared about me, at least my father needed me around to teach me the ropes and do some dirty work for him.

Grady smirks and gives a sharp nod. “Very well. I look forward to meeting her.”

The people in the VIP lounge part, making way for him even though most of them have no clue who Grady really is. There’s an aura around him that commands attention, and it unsettles me at best.

My gaze stays glued to his back as he passes through the door of the lounge and down the stairs, his men following behind him.

They weave through the crowd, heading to the exit, and it’s only when they’re gone that I slump in my seat and throw back the rest of the drink.

This is a shit show. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to find a woman to pretend to be married to me.

Or maybe I could whisk some woman off to Vegas.

But then I would be tied to her. Even with a prenup, she would think she was entitled to something of my life, and I hate that idea more than anything else.

I’m not going to owe some woman anything.

Except it seems right now, I don’t have a choice.

Groaning, I scrub a hand down my face, glancing at the bodies writhing together on the floor.

People are free down there, not worrying about finding a woman to marry. They don’t have an importer breathing down their neck.

I’m my own boss, and even now shackles seem to be tightening around my neck.

Tonight has gone to hell, but at least there’s some part of it I can salvage.

Sighing, I leave the lounge and join the crowd, the heavy bass shaking the room making my heart thrum in time with the beat.

While I might not be much of a dancer, there’s always been some appeal to having a woman pressed up against me in a sweaty club. The way her body rolls against mine and the tensing of her body when my fingers skim just between her thighs or beneath the curve of her ass.

It’s my favorite kind of foreplay, and I’m looking forward to it.

As my eyes skim the crowd, they land on her, and I freeze.

The devil is in the middle of the dance floor, the hem of her black dress creeping up the thighs I’ve thought of draping over my shoulders more than once.

Satan herself might be just the woman I need.

Getting her to agree to work with me is going to be like drawing teeth.

But I could always force her to play along. Make her my captive. Drag her down the aisle kicking and screaming if that’s what it takes.

And it just might.

She has never been an easy person to deal with, but she makes my blood run faster any time our paths cross, because I never know if we are finally going to fuck or kill each other.

I should kidnap her.

Maybe it’s better if I fuck her into submission.

Kidnap her.

Fuck her into submission.

As I start to weave through the crowd of bodies, the answer becomes clear.

I’m coming for you, Skyla Lynde.