While Paul showered, Liza sat on the balcony of their hotel room and wished for a cup of coffee. The weeklong honeymoon was coming to an end, and reality crashed around Liza’s ears. Neither of them had brought up the annulment, nor had they told their parents, but they either had to get the union ended or confess.
She couldn’t imagine being without him, but being with him had endless complications—explaining it, one of the moving, telling their parents… They were running out of time and no other options had occurred to her. The sun rose, slicing down the Strip like fire, and Liza crossed her legs. She didn’t want their time together to end…but she didn’t know how she could possibly face life as a woman who married her actual stepbrother.
It didn’t seem fair. Paul was perfect—sexually, intellectually, and emotionally. But because of circumstances beyond her control, he was entirely inappropriate.
Or so society said.
He stepped onto the patio behind her, leaning on the doorframe as he smiled down at her. Offering her a cup of coffee, he said, “You look like you’re thinking way too hard for a woman who woke up with such a big smile on her face.”
As she’d been wakened by him between her legs, seconds away from a shattering orgasm, it was hard not to wake up smiling. She blushed a little and sipped the coffee. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
He looked away from her, taking in the view. “You’re mine,” he said simply.
“That would mean you’re mine,” she pointed out. Her stomach flipped a little, sure he’d say something that would make a joke of her words. He owned her body, but she doubted he would admit the same to her. She didn’t even know if she was special to him…or if he was just that damn good of a lover.
“I’ve been yours for years, little Liza. These rings, they don’t change that.”
She blinked up at him, shocked by his words. “But…”
“You’re that worried about what people will think?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. “I got you something.”
She shook her head. She’d be an idiot if she pretended what people thought didn’t matter. Of course, it mattered. This was her mother’s wedding week—and she’d done what? Stolen her thunder by marrying her new stepbrother? What would her boss think if he found out? Her friends? How could anyone possibly understand?
“Liza,” he said, but she didn’t look at him, staring down the Strip. The sun was mostly up, now, the red fire blasted away by the yellow of daylight.
His fingertips grazed her cheek, and she turned into his palm. “This is impossible,” she said.
He was holding a beautiful ring—platinum with a square cut garnet surrounded by white diamonds. “I got you a better ring. Stay with me. Fuck what the world has to say. Be mine.”
She blinked fast, temptation urging her to take the ring and let the world be damned. “First, we tell our parents. If you still want to offer me a ring at that point, I’ll take it.”
Little did she know she would regret her own words.
The ambulance screamed away from the hotel, and Paul stood watching it go. He wasn’t that close with his father, not anymore, but still he hadn’t been prepared for watching the man crumple.
“It’s my fault,” he said.
“No,” Liza whispered. “We just need to get to the hospital. Mom, do you have your purse?”
He glanced back at her, shaking his head. “No, you stay here. This is about family.”
With that, he hopped in the nearest available cab, hoping to God he didn’t lose his father that day. Was he so selfish that he’d put his own happiness above his father’s life? No, it just didn’t make sense. No matter how much he loved her, it was his duty as a son to make sure his dad was okay. And if loving her was wrong…
So be it.