Her cheeks pinked as she approached.
I stopped where I stood, letting her come to me. Not because I wanted her to be subservient or cater to my needs, but because my knees felt weak at the mere sight of her beauty. My chest burned as the muscle that was my heart beat rapidly, threatening to burst through my rib cage.
She held out a hand and tilted her head, her pristine blue eyes sharp and assessing. They softened as did her lips as she took a slight breath before licking her bottom one.
My hands shook, but I clenched my teeth and poured strength into lifting my hands and taking hers with both of mine. Which was when she finally smiled.
A joy so intense shot like electricity from her hand, through mine, and bolted straight into my heart. It suddenly felt twice the size within my chest, though also lighter somehow. I took a deep breath and lifted her hand to my lips where I kissed the top.
“Hello, Savannah. I’m Erik Johansen.”
She swallowed, looked away rather shyly, and then back, her gaze bouncing from my eyes to my long hair, to my facial hair, down my broad chest, and everywhere in between. She was as nervous as I was, and that filled me with strength and confidence. This wasn’t a woman who went after rich men for the purpose of being rich. There was a reason behind her being here and choosing to marry for money. A reason I looked forward to finding out, as part of the bigger puzzle that was my intended bride.
“Savannah McAllister,” she said. “Oh, but you already knew that.” The flush at her cheeks stole across her neck and down toward her ample bosom.
Now, I liked women in all shapes and sizes. If there was chemistry between me and a woman, I’d happily take her to my bed. Not often, the way my playboy best friend did, but whenever the mood felt right between both parties. Though I couldn’t help taking in Savannah’s attributes. She looked soft and voluptuous in a way that demanded my attention. Her curves were plentiful, and I couldn’t wait to unwrap such a gift. But I wanted to get to know her first. This wasn’t a situation where we’d been in a club, had shared a few drinks, and were willing to hit the sheets for a night of pleasure.
This was the rest of my life. Or at least the next three years.
Though I couldn’t imagine having enough of this stunning woman after three short years. Only time would tell.
“Now that you’ve greeted one another, why don’t we get to signing the contract.” Madam Alana broke through our unintentional staring contest.
I turned and gestured with my arm. “Shall we?”
She nodded primly and held her head high as she approached the table.
Christ, she was something else. Confident, shy, beautiful, but also determined.
My heart swelled as I watched my intended pick up the pen and stare at the signature line. If I wasn’t paying close attention, I might have missed her close her eyes briefly and whisper, “I’m sorry,” under her breath as she placed the pen to the paper and signed her name.
A knife wound to the chest would have hurt less. Savannah may have been determined, but something was still plaguing her decision.
My entire body filled with fear as I picked up the pen and looked into her eyes.
“Are you here of your own accord? Is someone making you do this?” I asked.
“Mr. Johansen, my company would never—” Madam Alana started to speak, but I held up my hand, cutting her off.
“Answer me,” I urged Savannah, my entire focus solely on her.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not being forced or coerced. I want and need this marriage for reasons that are my own.”
“Standing here, seeing you, feeling the chemistry already building between us, I want to marry you. More than I ever thought possible when I entered the auction. But I will not do so against your will.”
She shook her head, firmed her jaw, and looked me straight in the eyes. “Sign the agreement… Please.” Her voice cracked on the plea, which had me jumping into action.
I scribbled my name across the bidder line with a flourish. “It’s done.” I focused all my attention on her face as she closed her eyes and a beautiful smile appeared. She took a full breath in and let it go. Her eyes opened, and there were tears sitting on the edges of her lashes.
I cupped her cheeks, wanting to cure all that ailed her. “Talk to me,” I demanded softly.
“What happens next?” she asked, her pretty blue eyes searing into mine.
“I don’t know.” I chuckled. “How about we figure it out together?”
“Together?” she asked .
On instinct, I pressed my lips to one cheek just as a tear fell, wetting my lips with her salty tears. I tasted her emotion, then kissed the other cheek before pressing my forehead to hers.
“Together,” I reiterated.
We stood there, forehead to forehead, two strangers who were about to enter into the most intimate of partnerships without any knowledge of the other. Despite the niggling chemistry that wove around our forms like a warm blanket.
“I like that idea,” she whispered, her minty breath fanning against my lips.
“Me too, elskede.” I brazenly tunneled my fingers into her long red locks, feeling the silky tendrils as the endearment “beloved one” slipped from my lips and rolled through us both in reassuring waves.
I’d never called a woman my beloved before, but right then, it felt appropriate.
I moved my hands from her hair and brought them around her body, pulling her into a sudden hug. She fit perfectly. Her ear naturally settled directly over my pounding heart.
I closed my eyes as I filled with emotions that I didn’t recognize. Things I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Excitement. Anticipation. Contentment.
Nothing in my life had felt more right, more real, than this moment.
“I think I’m going to like holding you within my arms for the foreseeable future,” I admitted in a husky whisper against the crown of her fiery hair.
She hugged me back. “I think I could get used to this too,” she said, and then her body went stiff in my arms, as though she had admitted something she didn’t want to.
I let her go and held out my hand. “Shall we?”
“Where are we going?” She placed her hand within mine.
I smiled widely. I had nowhere I needed to be. My best friend, Jack, was at the helm of my empire and running things as smoothly as ever. I trusted him implicitly. Not that it mattered, because nothing could tear me away from this woman and stop me from finding out everything there was to know about her.
Which was when the idea hit. A place a girl from Montana would love, that I loved in return.
“First stop, home. Oslo, Norway.”
Episode 17
Faith’s Contract
JOEL