Page 53 of On Edge

He frowns, glancing at his watch. “It’s a little early, don’t you think?—”

“Don’t you have an article to write?” My voice is dangerously quiet.

Ragg looks at Sage, then at me, and something in my expression must convince him. He smirks, nods stiffly, and then leaves.

As the door closes, I relish the moment of silence.

Ragg likes to talk; loves the sound of his own voice. It’s been grating on me since he first arrived. Sage is staring at me, still holding that damn cue stick like a lifeline.

I finally look at her. “What did he say to you?” The words come out harsher than I mean them to.

“Nothing. He just?—”

“Tell me what he said.”

She blinks at me. “He asked if I was happy...about the marriage.” Her voice is hushed. “He then suggested that if I needed any help….”

My jaw clenches so hard it bloody hurts. “Help getting away from me?” I finish for her.

She nods.

Of course. Ragg would see what this looks like. That Sage is a trapped girl with a dangerous man, and that this wedding is merely an asset tied to a business deal, and nothing else. He would see it this way, because that’s exactly what it is.

“And what didyousay?”

She stares at me for a few seconds. “I said I was here because I wanted to be.”

The words sink in, taking some of the anger blistering my insides with it.

“I see. You lied, did you?” My voice is rough.

“I wasn’t lying.”

Our eyes lock, and it feels like the storm outside is about to erupt. The rage is back, and it takes everything I have to keep it from spilling out right now.

“You should go to bed, Sage.”

“Are we…are we getting married then?” She asks it so innocently, like she’s asking about dinner.

“No.”

She flinches.

I let out a sigh. “I only said that because he’s writing an article to make me more appealing to investors.” It’s the truth, but why does it feel the exact opposite when I say it?

She gnaws her bottom lip. “So it’s like a fake marriage.”

“I wouldn’t say fake. There will be a prenup, a ceremony, and then a divorce. Not an annulment, since you’re the one who’s threatening that if I don’t marry you now that you’ve slept in my bed, the deal falls through,” I say gruffly.

It’s ludicrous, really. Richard Lovett could threaten what he likes. That morality clause would never hold up in court. So why am I going ahead with this ridiculous wedding? But Sage looks upset at my answer, and I don’t try to ease her concerns. If she wants to marry me, then all the pomp and ceremony is what she’s going to get.

Ragg will see through it otherwise.

Not if he lives.

“Oh. I see.”

She sets down the cue and walks past me, close enough that I catch that thorny lavender scent. I seize her wrist without thinking, and she stiffens. I should let her go. It’s late, and I have things to take care of now.