Chapter 4

"Sign on the line marked spouse two, Mrs. Ashbourne."

The clerk at the city registry office pushed the official leather binder across the small oak table.

Elowen held the gold pen, her fingers stiff and cold. Beside her, Caius had already signed his name in sharp, clean strokes. His dark wool coat brushed against her simple cream sweater every time he moved.

She took a slow breath, forced her hand steady, and signed her name.

"Congratulations," the clerk said, stamping the paper with a heavy metal seal. "By the power vested in this registry, you are legally husband and wife."

The words sounded heavy and strange in the quiet room.

Before Elowen could pull back, Caius reached into his breast pocket and produced a velvet box. He flipped the lid open with his thumb. Inside sat a massive emerald cut diamond ring, flanked by tapered baguettes set in platinum.

"Give me your left hand," he said quietly.

"Caius, that is way too much," Elowen whispered, staring at the sheer size of the stone. "People will know it is fake if I wear something that looks like a small museum piece."

"Nothing about my wife will ever look cheap," Caius replied, his voice firm.

He took her left hand in his. His fingers were warm, rough, and completely sure of themselves. He slid the heavy band onto her ring finger, his thumb gently smoothing over her knuckle.

A sudden jolt of electricity shot straight up her arm, catching her off guard. For a split second, looking into his steady gray eyes, the cold reality of the business deal faded into something dangerously soft.

"Come," he murmured, closing his hand around hers and pulling her toward the exit. "We need to get to the car."

"Why the rush?"

"The registry clerks talk. The press knows I am here."

The moment the double glass doors of the municipal building swung open, a barrage of camera flashes lit up the gray morning sky like lightning. Shouted questions echoed off the concrete pillars, loud, aggressive, and deafening.

"Mr. Ashbourne! Is it true you got married this morning?"

"Who is the new Mrs. Ashbourne?"

"Is this related to the family trust deadline?"

"Look over here, miss! Give us a smile!"

A dozen photographers surged forward, shoving microphones past the low brass handrails on the steps.

Elowen instinctively flinched, pulling back from the bright wall of light. Her foot caught on the bottom step, throwing her off balance.

Before she could stumble, a strong arm locked around her waist, hauling her flush against a solid wall of muscle.

"Hold on to me," Caius commanded against her ear.

"There are too many of them, Caius—"

"Let them look."

Caius did not push past the cameras. Instead, he stopped dead in the center of the granite steps, turning her body fully into his chest. His large hand came up, cradling the side of her neck, his fingers tangling into the loose waves of her hair.

His eyes dropped to her lips with a raw, fierce focus that made her breath stall in her throat.

"Caius, what are you—"

He cut her off completely, crashing his mouth down onto hers.

The world vanished in an instant. The clicking shutters, the shouting reporters, the freezing city air, all of it dissolved under the sheer heat of his lips.

It was not a gentle, polite kiss for the cameras. It was demanding, possessive, and intensely thorough. His mouth moved over hers with an overwhelming hunger, parting her lips with a low rumble in his chest that vibrated right through her ribs.

His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her so high against him that her toes barely grazed the cold stone step.

Elowen gasped into his mouth, her hands moving on pure instinct, clutching the thick lapels of his wool coat to keep from falling. Her entire body felt liquid hot, a sudden surge of raw desire blinding every rational thought in her head.

Just as her knees threatened to buckle, Caius broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and heavy against her flushed cheek.

He did not look at the cameras. He kept his eyes locked on her dazed, parted lips as he shielded her with his broad frame, guiding her swiftly through the parting crowd and shoving her gently into the back of the waiting Maybach.

Marcus shut the door instantly, cutting off the deafening roar of the media mob outside. The tinted glass went dark, encasing the interior in sudden, heavy silence.

The limousine pulled away from the curb with a smooth hum.

Elowen slumped back against the soft leather seat, her chest heaving as she pressed trembling fingers to her swollen, tingling lips.

"That... that was supposed to be for the cameras," she breathed, her voice shaking.

Caius adjusted the cuffs of his white dress shirt, his eyes dark, heavy, and completely unreadable as he turned his head to look at her.

"Keep telling yourself that, wife.”