Chapter 3

I stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

Rafe leans against Leo's doorframe like he's just asked whether I want coffee.

“Marry me.”

“You have blood on your sleeve.”

He glances down.

“That isn't related.”

“I really hope not.”

His mouth twitches.

I carefully pull my hand from Leo's and step into the hallway.

Rafe follows.

“You're serious.”

“Yes.”

“That makes it worse.”

He folds his arms.

“Leo trusts you. He sleeps when you're here. He talks to you.”

“So you want to marry the nanny.”

“I want stability for my son.”

Very romantic.

He explains it like a business deal.

My own room. My own money. Legal protections. I can keep working if I want. Publicly, I'll be his wife. Privately, nothing will be expected from me.

I stop him there.

“I just spent nine years being useful to everybody except myself.”

Rafe goes quiet.

“Grant needed me to take care of his mother. His sister needed free childcare. His company needed me to smile at dinners and remember everyone's birthdays.”

I look back at Leo's room.

“I care about him. A lot. But I'm not marrying another man because somebody needs something from me.”

Rafe studies my face.

“Okay.”

I wait.

That's it.

“You're not going to argue?”

“You said no.”

Men like Grant treat no like the opening round of negotiations.

Apparently, men who have people beaten in their basement are better with boundaries.

Life is weird.

Rafe starts to leave, then stops.

“For the record, the arrangement wouldn't have been entirely unpleasant.”

I narrow my eyes.

“You just said there were no wife duties.”

“I said I wouldn't require them.”

My face goes hot.

He walks away before I can answer.

Asshole.

I find Nico downstairs twenty minutes later, sprawled across one end of the dining table while six men in dark suits gather around Rafe.

A map of the docks is spread between them.

Nico's shirt is black and open halfway down his chest.

Naturally.

He looks at me, then at Rafe.

Something clicks behind his eyes.

“Oh, fuck.”

Rafe doesn't look up.

“What?”

“You asked her.”

Every man at the table suddenly becomes very interested in the map.

I stop walking.

Nico's grin widens.

“You actually fucking asked her to marry you.”

“Nico.”

“You haven't even slept with her.”

Rafe slowly lifts his head.

The room changes.

Nico, apparently, has been born without a survival instinct.

“What?” he says. “I'm impressed.”

Rafe's voice stays quiet.

“Keep talking and you'll be impressed by how well you can chew with three teeth.”

Nico laughs.

I leave before I become collateral damage.

My phone rings upstairs.

Grant.

I should ignore it.

I don't.

“I heard you're living with the Romanos.”

“Congratulations. You know how gossip works.”

“You're their nanny, Mara.”

“And?”

He laughs once.

“You used to have some pride.”

There it is.

“I have a job.”

“You weigh what, two hundred pounds now?”

My fingers tighten around the phone.

“Still you, then.”

“I'm trying to help you. Men like Rafael Romano don't want women like you. He can have models. Actresses. Women who actually take care of themselves.”

I hang up.

For a few seconds, I just stand there.

Then a voice behind me says,

“Your ex always that fucking stupid?”

Nico.

Of course.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

His eyes move over me slowly.

My chest. My waist. My hips.

There is nothing subtle about it.

“He thinks no man would want you?”

“I don't remember asking for a review.”

“Good.”

He steps closer.

“Because mine would be wildly inappropriate.”

“Nico.”

“What?”

“Don't.”

His grin is pure trouble.

“Sweetheart, if you ever feel like proving your ex wrong, I'm very available.”