“What is this?” she demands. “What the fuck is going on?”
The priest doesn’t look shocked by her cursing; I’m sure he’s heard worse. He stops a few pews away, frowning at me. “Is she in need of shelter?”
“We’re in need of a ceremony. And we need to make it quick.” I tug at the girl’s arm, and she balks, digging in her heels as she looks at me again with those wide, frightened eyes.
“A ceremony? What the hell? What are you talking about?”
Father Martinez looks at me, concern creasing the space between his brows. “Damian, if the girl isn’t willing…this is all very unusual, and I think?—”
“We don’t pay you to think, Father,” I snap. “We pay you to help. There will be a generous donation coming your way for the poor andsick and whoever else you want to use it for, just as soon as I get this handled and get back to Konstantin. But I donothave the time for?—”
I’m tugging the girl forward as I speak, leading her up the aisle toward where the priest is standing, intending to stride right past him toward the altar so he can follow. But she flails in my grasp like a trapped animal, and when she twists around, kicking me hard in the knee, she throws me off just long enough to finally get free.
She bolts for the door, running like her life depends on it. Except her life depends on what happensinhere, tonight, and she hasn’t seemed to pick up on it yet.
I catch up to her in three quick strides, wrapping my arms around her waist yet again and lifting her off her feet.
"Let me go!" she screams, struggling against my hold. "Let me go right now!"
I carry her to a pew near the back of the church and set her down, blocking her path to the door with my body. She's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and there are tears streaming down her face.
"What the fuck is going on?" she demands, her voice echoing in the empty church. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?"
I admire her nerve. For all that she’s kicked, screamed, run, and tried to harm me multiple times, she hasn’t fallen apart. Plenty of women would be a melted-down, crying disaster right now… hell, some men would be, too. But not this woman. She’s staring up at me defiantly with teary eyes, clearly ready to bite, kick, and scratch her way out of this if she can.
She’s a wildcat. A little hellion. And something stirs deep within me at the sight of her, a dark, deviant heat that can imagine all kinds of things I could do to her, all the ways I could pin her down and take her, the way her nails and teeth would feel in my skin as I?—
My jaw tightens as my cock twitches, and I shove the roiling desire down. This isn’t the place, or the time, and this certainly isn’t a woman I should want. I have no idea how old she is, but she looks young. Legal, probably, but too young for me.
And she has no idea how much danger she’s in.
“Do you want to die?” The question comes out sharply, abrupt, and the girl freezes in place. I swear even the tears on her cheeks stop rolling as she stares at me, stunned.
“What?” she manages, her voice a feather of a whisper in the air, the sound strangled.
I stare down at her. “It’s a simple question. Do you want to die?”
“I—” She blinks rapidly. “That’s a stupid question. Of course not.”
“Good. Then you’re going to marry me.” I reach for her arm to pull her up from the pew, but she flinches back, scooting away from me. She shakes her head, slowly at first, then faster.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?”
"You heard me." I reach for her again, and she scoots back farther, making me follow her down the pew. My jaw tightens, teeth grinding with irritation. “I don’t have time for this?—”
She lets out a laugh that borders on hysterical. "You're insane. You're actually insane if you think I'm going to marry you."
I catch up to her, closing the space between us as I lean down, trapping her between my arms braced on either side of her against the back of the pew. My knees are on either side of her legs, preventing her escape. “You’ll marry me, or you’ll die. You want to get fucking killed? Fine. Leave. You’ll be dead before morning.” I step back, giving her space. “I have places I need to be tonight, still. This wasn’t supposed to take the whole damn night.”
Her breath hitches, and she stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I—I don’t understand?—”
“I’m trying to protect you,” I growl. “But I don’t have time for this. If you want to die, be my fucking guest.”
She licks her lips, and my eyes flick traitorously back to her mouth. Her lower lip is fuller than the top one, though the top has an enticing bow, the dip of it deep enough that the tip of my tongue?—
My jaw tightens as a hot lick of desire races down my spine. The girl is still sitting on the pew, breathing hard, though she doesn’t look as if she’s about to run at any moment now.
“You’re trying to protect me.” She repeats the words, her voicetrembling. “By marrying me? I don’t even know who you are. I mean, I’ve seen you once or twice, but…” She licks her lips again. “You don’t even know my name.”
