I shivered within his arms, feeling more than I could ever possibly explain to this stranger.
Beautiful.
Cared for.
Priceless.
Episode 19
The Three-Year Timer
DAKOTA
“You’re unbelievable!” I hissed and jerked in Sutton’s hold.
He released me, but only so he could spin around, open the door, take my hand, and push us through it and down the hall. The man was at least six foot four, broad as a bull, and finer than any cowboy in a hundred-mile radius of Sandee back home. And it had been years—years—since I’d laid eyes on him. He’d most definitely grown into a stallion of a man, if you took in his chiseled jaw, muscular form, green eyes, reddish-brown hair, and sun-kissed skin. But none of that changed the fact that he was a Goodall.
My nemesis.
The entire reason I’d put myself up for auction in the first place.
Well, technically my two-bit daddy and his gambling habits had put me here, but if the Goodalls weren’t constantly outbidding us on livestock, horses, and feed and stealing new contracts out from under our noses, we wouldn’t be in such a terrible position.
Probably .
Maybe.
Regardless, I couldn’t imagine what on earth would give Sutton Goodall the notion that marrying me, a McAllister, was a bright idea. Either he was plum out of smarts, or he had a card up his sleeve. Being a no-good dirty cheat was far more likely than him being the dullest tool in the shed.
He kept up a quick pace that had me hiking up my long hem in order to keep stride with him. When we finally reached the elevator, I yanked my hand from his.
“Where do you think you’re taking me?” I barked.
He grinned and pressed the button to call the elevator. “To the chapel.”
The chapel.
Um…what?
“You mean the wedding chapel?” I croaked as the reality of what I’d just signed sunk deep into the surface of my skin, then carved out a hollow in my gut that sat like a rotting donut.
“Yes ma’am.” He entered the elevator, then grabbed me by the bicep lightly and shuffled my shocked form into the space.
“We have a whole month to plan a wedding,” I reminded him. “I read the contract forward and backward several times,” I blurted.
“Yep,” was all he said.
“Then why are we rushing off to the chapel now?” My throat was dry, and I desperately needed a drink of water or maybe a vat of tequila. Preferably the tequila.
Leaning against the wall of the elevator, he stared at me and smirked. “You know the three-year time limit starts on the day of our marriage. You want to be mine for three years and a month? I’m A-okay with that plan too, sweetheart.”
I frowned deeply. Shit, he had a point.
“I don’t want to be married to you at all. I can’t even fathom why you’d bid on me in the first place. You hate me.”
He shook his head, and his nostrils flared before he pushed off the side of the wall and strode toward me. I backed up until I was once again caged against the wall and this man’s body.
“I don’t hate you, Dakota. In fact…” His gaze tore straight through mine. “What I feel for you, in that dress, knowing I’m about to make you mine, is about the furthest thing from hate one can get.”
Arousal rippled along my nerve endings as the heat of his words slammed into me.
“But…y-your family,” I muttered as one of his warm hands curled around my waist and traveled up my ribcage stopping just short of the rounded curve of my breast.
“Oh, my family will absolutely despise what I’m about to do.” His thumb swept up and down, and I found that I had a hard time focusing on my righteous anger when his hand was on me, the air teeming with a tension that couldn’t be denied. His hulking form crowded mine in a delicious way that had my head spinning with images of us bound together in a web of sultry, debauched thoughts.
He smelled of the country on a summer day. Like home. Earthy, with windswept notes of fresh-cut grass mixed with other spicy herbs. It was as though the cowboy was physically able to bring the country with him through scent alone.
My heart ached at the thought of home. The scent reminding me once more of what was at stake and why I was here in the first place.
“And you think my family is going to accept this situation?” My eyebrows rose along with my voice. The strength of my family’s dire need cutting through everything else.
His gaze fell from my eyes to my mouth, and I watched as he licked those plump, kissable lips. They had a slight indent in the center of the bottom one, making me want to run my tongue along the surface and feel the change in texture personally.