Conquest (The Four Groomsmen of the Wedpocalypse #1)

by Lilian Monroe

Then he shifted, and his hand slipped against hers. She made to pull away, but he intertwined their fingers before she had the chance to escape. He was… He was holding her hand. It was a shock to the system, intimate in a way she hadn’t expected. That broad, warm palm pressed against hers. His long fingers curled and notched between her knuckles. The heat of it. The sheer size of it.

There was something discoverable about her beauty, like it might reveal itself to him bit by bit, given enough time. Tall enough to reach his nose in her three-inch heels, she walked like she had no time to lose, dragging him along by the hand she’d allowed him to continue gripping. Pink gloss shone on her lips, and he wondered how they would taste to lick. He was caught like a fly in her grouchy web, and he had been since he’d opened the doors and seen her standing in a shaft of sunlight. She was so fierce. So…nettled.

Tori, Rinn, and Lauren all looked distinctly more comfortable in their dresses than Amelia did, but he still thought she wore it best. He had the impression the dress vexed her, which delighted him. That probably made him an ass. Well—more of an ass than usual.

“If you hurt my sister, I’ll lobotomize you with a fireplace poker.”

She was a woman incapable of hiding her feelings. Annoyance, anger, ecstasy—it was all written right there on her face. She couldn’t hide her thoughts if she tried. For a man like Leo, who hid behind a mask every hour of the day, the sight was almost irresistible. A tug pulled at his gut, drawing him ever closer. He wanted her to open her eyes. He wanted to see something other than animosity written on her face when she looked at him. He wanted to make her laugh.

“Careful,” Marlon’s deep voice said from behind Leo’s back. Leo spun around and arched a brow at his brother. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Amelia Darcy isn’t one of your women, Leo.” “‘One of my women?’” he repeated, rearing back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo dropped his lids to half mast and let Amelia see a mere fraction of all the things he wanted to do to her. She threw her hands up like a shield. “Whoa! Jesus!”

He couldn’t continue this. She was too cute. Too charming. Too damn perfect.

She was perfect—perfect for him. This woman would be his undoing, this beautiful fairy who’d trapped him with a scowl.

And I know I’m a piece of shit, okay? I know I don’t deserve her. But she’s fucking incredible, and I’m never going to be with her again. I had less than a week with the woman of my dreams, and now I’m supposed to just go back to my life and pretend none of it ever happened. How the fuck do you think I feel about that? About myself?”

“She’s funny and clever and beautiful. She has this little smile that appears when she’s saying something funny, like she can’t quite contain herself from laughing at her own jokes. And she’s smart. She built her own business. She looks at numbers and sees patterns. She did a sudoku in like, five seconds. And she frowns all the damn time. Like everything is a problem she just needs to solve. All week I’d just stare at her face like an idiot, trying to watch the moment her expression would clear. If she figured out a problem, she’d get this tiny little victorious smile for a second, and it made me⁠—”

“The only way to be worthy of her is to be worthy of her. You want to be a better person, you just decide that’s who you are, and live accordingly.”

When she was sure she couldn’t stand another moment, Leo dropped to his knees beside her and said two words on a gust of breath: “Marry me.”

“He could tell you were in love with me the whole time.” “Oh, wow, I just got a call from NASA, and they said they can see your ego from outer space.”