Page 76 of The Wrong Husband (The Davenports #6)

"He has no idea what he’s let go of. It was his good fortune that he even had a chance to have you in his life.

He didn’t appreciate you, which is why he cheated on you.

You’re better off without him. Also"—he slides a hand into his pocket, and stares down at me from his superior height—"you forget that I kissed you. And going by your response, I can promise you, you’re anything but frigid. "

I blush to the roots of my hair, then look down at where I’m twisting my fingers in my lap. I wish I could sink through the floor. I wish I were anywhere but here. Isn’t it enough that he kissed me, and instead of pushing him away, I enjoyed it? And now, he has to point out my response to him?

"I realize, you were trying to help me, but I’m not sure what that kiss accomplished."

"Other than making him realize how much of a terrible mistake he made by letting you go, you mean?"

I hear the smugness in his voice and glance up, and further up—God, he’s tall. And sitting down, with him towering over me, I’m struck again by the powerful figure he cuts in his immaculate suit.

It also means I’m at the level of his crotch. Don’t look there. Don’t. I manage to keep my gaze on his.

"I suppose, you have a point. But it’s not going to help me when I email all the guests I invited to my wedding. Or tell my parents that I’m not getting married, after all. Not to mention, the money I put toward the caterers at the pub where our reception was going to be held." I wince.

That money could have been used toward paying down some of my student loans, or my next month’s rent.

But really, the worst thing will be the pity that’ll come my way when the news spreads. I sink back in my chair and wrap my arms about my waist.

"This is terrible. What am I going to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have no idea what it means to call off a wedding when you’re one of the normal working class, do you?"

"Tell me." He sinks down to one knee in front of me, then rests an arm across his thigh like he’s settling in to wait.

"What are you doing?" I laugh nervously.

"I want to understand."

"Umm… Don’t you have your next meeting to go to?"

"It can wait."

I flick my gaze to his calendar, open on my computer. "It’s the meeting with the CEO of that company whose takeover you’ve been planning for months."

"It can wait."

I frown. "You’ve been wanting to seal the deal for months."

"I want to seal this deal too."

"Excuse me?" I whip my head around in his direction. "What does that mean?"

"I mean, I want to understand what’s the result of him having broken his deal with you."

"Oh." I swallow as disappointment hits me again. For a minute, I thought he meant to seal the deal with me—by marrying me. Once again, I wring my hands together. Only, he reaches out and places his hand on mine. I freeze.

Instantly, he pulls his arm back. "I’m sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Umm… You kissed me… I think we’re way past that."

"Hmm." He drags his thumb under his lip. "Is the fact I kissed you the problem, or that your response took you by surprise?"

I slowly raise my gaze to his. "Both."

He nods. "Thank you for your honesty. I kissed you because I could not bear to see how unhappy you were. And I was pissed off that… That knobhead cheated on you. I wanted to do something to make it better for you. And I thought the best way was to show him what he was missing. I knew that the moment he thought there was someone else interested in you, he’d regret his actions. So—" He shrugs one massive shoulder.

"He was pissed off, all right. And it didn’t hurt at all that he watched us kissing," I say with satisfaction.

"But it doesn’t change anything." Anger squeezes my chest. Frustrations knots my guts.

I blow out a breath. "Best I call city hall to cancel our appointment and send out emails to let people know the wedding isn’t taking place. "

A burning pressure builds behind my eyes, hot and sharp. I’m going to hate myself by the time this is over. Every call. Every email. Every humiliating explanation.

“I wish you didn’t have to go through that,” he says quietly. But there’s a thread of steel running through his words, one which makes me blink.

“There’s no way around it.” I rub my temple, jaw tight. “I was paying for the wedding. Should’ve been my first clue about the kind of man he really was.”

My head drops back against the chair. “And then he slept with my bridesmaid. My best friend. God—” My voice catches. “I still can’t believe she’d do that.”

He studies me for a beat. “What if you didn’t have to make those calls? Or cancel everything?”

I blink at him. “Then I’d lose the downpayment on the pub. And trust me, I can’t afford that.”

His eyes narrow slightly, something unreadable flashing across his face. “You wouldn’t have to lose anything. You could still have the reception. Somewhere better.”

Frustration squeezes my chest. “Can you please stop talking in riddles already?” I frown. “I’m in no condition to figure out what you’re saying.”

“I mean exactly what I said. You could still have the celebration. Just…not the wedding you planned.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” I swipe at a tear trailing down my cheek. “Why would I go through with a reception for a wedding that isn’t happening?”

“Maybe, because it doesn’t have to be canceled at all.” His voice is calm. Steady. Loaded with something I can’t quite name. “Not if you marry someone else.”

I sit up straighter. “Okay, you need to stop. I don’t know what this is, or what game you’re playing, but it’s not funny.”

He leans in just enough to make my pulse stutter. “It’s not a game.” He holds out his hand.

And automatically, and probably because my brain is too tired to make decisions, I follow his lead and place my palm in his.

Instantly, mine is dwarfed by his much bigger one.

His skin is rough with calluses on the fingers that drag at mine.

Little pinpricks of pleasure whisper over my nerve endings.

It was a mistake to kiss him because now, I’m so aware of his nearness. Of how, with me seated, and him on one knee, we’re at eye-level. That’s how massive he is. I feel so much smaller in comparison, but he’s never made me feel unsafe.

In fact, he’s always been gentle around me.

Like he’s very aware of his size and does everything in his power to make me feel secure.

And I do feel protected by his bulk. The way he put himself between me and my ex, as if he were using his body to shield me from him.

Like he’d do anything to protect me. My head spins.

Why is my mind going in this direction? He’s my boss.

We have a professional relationship—which just went out the window when he kissed me.

The enormity of what happened begins to sink in.

1. I’m no longer getting married.

2. My boss. Kissed. Me.

3. Now he’s looking at me, like… It meant something more than just a way of saving my pride and helping me get back at my ex.

My heart leaps into my throat. I try to pull my hand from his, but his holds tightens. His gaze intensifies, and I feel like I’m caught in a spiral of emotions emanating from his eyes.

"What… What are you trying to tell me?"

His features grow serious. More serious than I’ve ever seen in all the time I’ve known him.

"Marry me."

To find out what happens next read Brody and Lark’s, Boss - Assistant marriage of convenience Christmas Romance, in The Christmas Trap here

Want a bonus scene with Connor my chest tightens. Is this what people call growing up?

The bartender tips his mixing flask, strains out a fresh batch of the ruby red liquid onto the glass in front of me.

"Salut." I nod my thanks, then toss it back. It hits my stomach and tendrils of fire crawl up my spine, I cough.

My head spins. Warmth sears my chest, spreads to my extremities. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. Good. Almost there. "Top me up."

"You sure?"

"Yes." I square my shoulders and reach for the drink.

"No. She’s had enough."

"What the—?" I pivot on the bar stool.

Indigo eyes bore into me.

Fathomless. Black at the bottom, the intensity in their depths grips me. He swoops out his arm, grabs the glass and holds it up. Thick fingers dwarf the glass. Tapered at the edges. The nails short and buff. All the better to grab you with . I gulp.

"Like what you see?"

I flush, peer up into his face.