Page 88 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

I also add a variety of hair clips and accessories. By the time I’m done shopping, we’re both grinning.

I head back into the changing room to slip back into my dress and heels, and when I emerge, she’s packed everythinginto a gorgeous, shiny white handle bag adorned with a live oak.

A golf cart is waiting for me. As the female driver drives me back to the Jasmine Cottage, she asks how the spa services were. I tell her she simply has to try them.

When she responds that she hasn’t had a pedi in forever, I clamp my mouth shut. How could I have been so thoughtless? Until I was forced down the aisle, my budget couldn’t be stretched to afford one. My life has radically changed in only a couple of days.

And in a way, I’m kind of envious of the driver. She probably has more freedom over her decisions than I do.

Still, because the silence feels uncomfortable to me, I turn toward her slightly. “In the real world, I teach a little.”

She shoots me a surprised glance. “So you’re living a Cinderella story?”

Either that or some version of a nightmare.

No doubt some women would be happy right now. And a part of me insists I should be grateful. I mean, after all, what’s not to love about being with two sexy billionaires intent on spoiling me and taking care of sexual needs that I didn’t know I had?

But the truth is, I’d rather be back in my ordinary life.

“Well, you’ve certainly found a prince.”

“Mmm.” I’m not sure which man she’s referring to. And they’re both devastatingly handsome. But I know the truth. This life might have luxuries, but it’s nothing more than a beautiful prison. My choices are no longer my own.

On the plane, as we were landing, I informed them I was not giving up teaching.

Reluctantly they agreed. For now. As long as it was only part-time only. And as long as I could manage all my obligations to our family.

Thankfully I have all summer before I have to teach again.The only thing I’ll need to do is publish some papers. Not that that’s easy.

All too soon, I’m walking back up the path to the cottage.

When I reach for the door handle, it swings open. Dorian fills the frame, and he sweeps his gaze over me approvingly before glancing at the bag.

“Did a little shopping at the spa?” Surprisingly his voice holds only a quiet note of curiosity.

“I thought the makeup artist did a nice job.” My tone is a little more defensive than I would have liked, so I breezily add, “I have appearances to keep up, as you keep telling me.”

He tilts his head, studying me with that unruffled calm. “You don’t need makeup to be beautiful, Isla.” He sounds sincere, and it throws me off.

“But still, all of this was almost a thousand dollars.” And I’d almost choked when I signed for the items.

He shrugs, effortless, like it’s pocket change. “If it makes you happy.”

Is this man for real? I narrow my eyes, searching for the catch, but there isn’t one, leaving me off balance again.

He steps aside to let me enter, then locks the door behind me.

“Something to drink? Or eat to hold you over until we arrive at the restaurant?”

Now that I’m near him, my knees become wobbly. “I’m fine.” Though the champagne in the ice bucket is tempting, I daren’t have more bubbly.

“In that case, can you be ready to go in an hour?”

“I just need to change,” I say, steadier now. “I’ve already taken a shower.” And had the chance to soak in a luxury bath.

He glances over his shoulder at Brennan, who’s been sitting at a desk, a computer in front of him.

“In that case”—predatory intent lights Dorian’s eyes—”we’ve got some extra time.”