"I want t-to be y-your w-wife, Mr. Kincade"
Shoot me now. My stutter was worse. It was like standing in front of this mountain of a man triggered the worse sides of my speech impairment.
A thin film of embarrassment covered my face while he waited patiently for me to choke out more indecipherable words. How lovely!
Then I stopped talking and watched him.
I spent majority of my teenage years with my nose up dark romance books with the perfect hot guys with solid abs and questionable characters and day dreaming about them and it never dawned on me that I might not be the 'hot' guy's dream girl...till now. Maybe if I was Eva Belle... But I wasn't.
If I looked like that, I wouldn't want someone like me as a wife either.
"Say s-something" I choked out holding his gaze.
Part of me needed to remember that as impatient as I was right now, I was speaking to an Essex and from the tales we've been told, they were proud men and hated being commanded.
He blinked, his face was very difficult to read unlike my father's, who you could tell when he wanted to murder someone by the streaks of line bulging out from his neck.
"Wow…as far as marriage proposals go, you sounded pretty certain"
Kincade's eyes scanned me like he was trying to figure me out. I wanted to tell him not to bother. Even I couldn't figure myself out – a nerd with the personality of a cheerleader. A rookie detective who couldn't solve her own mother's murder and mostly, a side character who fancies herself a main character.
But what I lacked in looks, I made up in wits and personality or so, I like to think.
"I am very certain, sir"
"You don't have to call me sir, sweetheart" His eyes were fixed on me "What makes you so certain that I want to be tied to you?" He asked.
"I know my reputation is wacky…I know I'm..." What was my father's favorite word for it "Defective".
I exhaled shakingly.
He blinked and rubbed his face. "Nicolette, what the hell are you talking about?" He asked me.
He looked utterly oblivious of what I was saying. Then it hit me, there was a chance that his people hadn't informed him of my speech impairment or my other flaws…a chance that I might be able to convince him to still marry me.
This right here…was my chance.
And so, I tried to compose myself, reminding myself that I was here on a mission to convince him to reconsider our engagement.
Kincade's eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over me before returning to my face. "Princess. It's midnight–" he said, his deep voice firm but guarded.
It snapped me out of my head and back to reality.
"I couldn't wait till m-morning to talk to you. I had to m-meet you" I forced out.
It was a second but I realized that I stuttered even more, maybe it was the nervousness or the frustration that I was standing in my dream boy's room at midnight, trying to find words to sell myself like I was some commodity- thanks Dad.
"Honey, don't get me wrong. As much as I would love to stand here half dressed talking to you, I feel obligated to inform you that girls who knock on my door at 12a.m, don't usually do it so we could talk" He moved closer to the door and opened it for me. "Go back to bed or come closer, so I can do the one thing I have thought all day about you"
I swallowed hard, trying to muster up every ounce of courage I possessed. "And that would be?"
He came closer to me. My heart skipped a beat. "Taste you, of course"
I raised my eyes instantly in shock to look at him. It was like chapter seven of dark blush when that hot mafian guy went down of Rose Callen.
Oh God! Please, yes!
I think he saw how much his words affected me, and a little teasing smile appeared on his face.
Sure, I was aroused but my vanity wasn't why I was in his room at 12:05am in the morning…my company was.
I moved closer to him…maybe too close. I think he was shocked by my boldness. But a desperate girl has no room for shyness.
"Marry me" I declared. "Marry me, tomorrow"
He watched me like one would watch an odd piece of puzzle.
Kincade's piercing hazelnut eyes scrutinized me, searching for answers. His gaze lingered, and for a moment, our eyes locked in a spark of connection. But it was quickly masked by a reserve…he wasn't a man who let his desire show easily.
I exhaled. This is where I sell it.
"I was born to marry you. I was born to perhaps love you…so, yeah, be my contracted husband, save...me" I looked him straight in the eyes.
If Eva Belle was here, she would say it's behavior unbecoming of an heiress.
"And in return, I will be the docile, don't - speak - unless - spoken - to wife, I will be in the background and I will keep my mouth shut in public. I will not embarrass you. Please, Kincade. Marry me... because if you don't..." My voice trailed off.
I had my fingers crossed behind me.
Even a blind man could tell you that Nicolette Octaliegh Avalon-Hatchet could never be the docile, don't - speak - unless - spoken - to, wife. It was like asking a leopard to shed it's stripes.
"Alright" He nodded. "But just a warning, I am not looking for a speak - unless- spoken - to - wife and Honey, once I hold on to you…I'm not letting you go. So you should think hard before proposing again"
"Marry me" I said with all the certainty in the world. "Kiss me" the last part came as a shock to me.
He wasn't shocked.
"Come closer then, wife"
Holy freaking fuck! It's happening. Houston, it's happening!