CHAPTER 3

He kissed her lips first, then her nose.

  "The marriage is six months away. After that, give me a few months to get her established so that we can continue where we left off.

  He grinned at Cassie as though this were the most wonderful development. She would only have to be patient while he beat his wife into submission and perhaps implanted a child in her womb. They could keep what they had.

  Is that truly what you want, Nathan? she questioned.

  It's not what I want, Bae, oh no. I would not alter a thing about what we now have since I adore it, but the old guy is pressuring me to be married because Ainsley's family is in the building industry. He faltered off and shrugged. You know, Bae, don't you? Only a few months, at most eight, will pass before everything returns to normal.

  She sarcastically said, "Except you'll be married.

  He continued to shrug, "We've both been in relationships before and it hasn't affected our arrangement."

  She groaned, trying not to express how saddened she was by Nathan's news. Since they were adolescents, she had been madly in love with him. More than simply her best friend, Nathan represented the ideal man she had always imagined herself marrying. That was not going to occur now. Nathan didn't and probably wouldn't view her that way.

  He got out of bed after taking a peek at his phone.

  "Look at the time, screw it. Oh my God, I better get going or I'll miss my flight.

  With each new piece of clothing, Cassie saw Nathan getting dressed, feeling more confused and alone. He leaned down to give her a quick peck on the lips while grabbing his wallet and laptop bag.

  He yelled to her, "I'll be in touch, Bae," as he walked away.

  The sound of the door closing on her life was similar to the closing of a coffin. Not to her, but to Nathan, he was getting hitched.

  Cassie cried out in loud, heartbreaking sobs as she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She had no clue how she was going to make it through her life without Nathan, which was going to be awful.

A week has passed. Ever since Nathan dropped his bomb, it has been a hard week. Since Nathan left her in their hotel room, Cassie hadn't ventured outside of her apartment until now. She spent the remainder of the weekend hiding out there, drowning her sorrows in a combination of vodka and chocolate, with the odd ice cream binge thrown in for variation. Although she was so overused, a shattered heart knows no boundaries.

  She established a new nest in her bedroom and called in sick to work for the entire week when it was time to check out on Sunday. She slithered out of the hotel wearing dark glasses to conceal the red-rimmed and baggy eyes that were the consequence of her weekend binge. After first pushing her arse in the shower, her roommate eventually made her way through the mountains of tissues and candy wrappers to evict her.

  That is how she found herself alone and in a pub on a Friday night.

  She was no longer fully alone since the air next to her began to stir. Cassie looked in the direction of the visitor. He was wearing a custom-made dark blue suit that gave off the impression of being worn just by him. His black hair was trimmed short on the sides and long on top. He had black hair, dark eyes, and even a dark earring. He also smelled excellent.

  Cassie said to the well-dressed stranger who sat down on the bar stool next to her, "You've got a nice beard." He did as well. It was thick and black with the perfect amount of length—more than hipster but not quite sea captain. She envisioned the sensation between her bare thighs.

  "What?" He gave her a funny look as he regarded her.

  She questioned, "Shit, did I say that out loud?" She was wasted. I am really inebriated and intend to continue drinking throughout the evening.

  "You did," he grinned, "but I'm game if you are."

  By way of snort. She said, "Maybe you should at least buy me a drink first."

  Hey, you propositioned me, so maybe you need to be the one paying for the drinks, he remarked, his green eyes gleaming with interest.

  She examined him. He was adorable. No, adorable wasn't the proper word; strike that. He was attractive, but in a sinister and tragic way. She felt something when she saw how menacing he appeared as if he could dissect you with a single phrase and not feel guilty afterward. Or perhaps it was just the excessive amounts of booze she had taken in.

  He unzipped his jacket and laid it over his legs before taking off his actual cufflinks and rolling up his shirtsleeves to display his muscular forearms, which were covered with seductive tattoos. Cassie saw her cheeks warming up as he sat there wearing a black tie, a dark blue vest, and a white shirt.

  She said, clearing her throat, which had suddenly grown thick. "So, what are you drinking, Irish?"