The Marriage Contract (PUBLISHED!)

Chapter Twenty

His eyes, as always, were a reflection of ice, staring into me with an unfaltering gaze. Though I'd known him for a little over a month, his penetrating stare which I sometimes wondered had burned through steel, could belong to only him.

"Oh, come on, Dorothy," he said. "Not again."

I stared at my palms lying limp on my lap, before clenching them against the red cotton of my skirt, rising from the seat. Ignoring his comment, I pushed past, lifting my head to face the closed white compartment. Morning light streamed through the small oval window before me, burning into my collar bone, as I tiptoed, my arm reaching towards the handle of the compartment.

The flats of my silver sandals pressed into the thick carpet of the plane, as I grunted, trying to push the knob open.

Damn it!

I glared at the white stubborn compartment, exhaling a deep breath, as a low chuckle caught my interest. Glancing down, I squinted at him for a millisecond, surprised by the curl of his smile, and the slight twinkle of his eyes.

When he winked, licking the edge of his full mouth, my heart leaped.

Feeling foolish, I looked away, focusing once more on the compartment that refused to open.

Passengers passed by me, excusing themselves, but bumping their bags against my back nonetheless.

"Stop staring at me," I said, my fingers almost reaching the white circular knob of the compartment.

"How do you know I'm staring at you?" he asked. "Besides, I think it's funny. Do you want to know what I find funny, Dorothy?"

I shook my head, pushing my locks over my back, as my fingers finally managed to twirl over the knob.

"I don't care to know," I replied, gripping the knob. "Just take the next flight back, will you? Whatever you're trying to do, isn't going to work. I'm not going to follow along your stupid plan—"

He cleared his throat, rising from the seat, towering over me. I stared at the pale flesh of his throat, at the veins lined across the muscular curve of his neck, before looking away altogether.

"It's quite amusing," he continued. "Do you remember how you hugged me that day, mistaking me for my brother? You did the same thing again today. You thought I was James. When will your brain start working, little Dorothy? Did you really think that James would come get you, especially after he cheated on you?—"

"Just stop!" I snapped, glaring coolly at him. "I don't have to explain anything to you! And...wait...how did you know James—"

Richard smirked. "I know everything."

My eyes rolled like a wheelbarrow, as I pursed my lips, annoyed by his vague response.

"You're so pretentious," I said. "You don't know everything, okay. And I'm so freaking tired, that I honestly have no energy to argue with you—"

A large, round man, pushed past- the pointed end of his bag shoving me in the process. Before I could register what was happening, I found myself tangled against Richard, whose long arms wrapped over me like a blanket.

"How convenient," he drawled. "You're real clumsy, aren't you, little Dorothy?"

"Stop calling me that!" I snapped, gritting my teeth. "And let go of me! Let go of me or else—"