“Is there a problem, or is your lack of height that much of a challenge?” The sexy voice demanded an answer to his ridiculous question. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let it go that I refused to look at the rest of him. I also refused to answer and simply shrugged my shoulders.

“Apologies,” my father called out. “Mina wasn’t expecting you here today. She’s, well, um,” I could have saved my dad the embarrassment of trying to come up with an excuse for me, but I decided to be a twat and let him stutter over his own words for a bit to see what he managed to come up with.

“It’s okay. I’d prefer she stay quiet and unseen for the most part anyway,” the asshole of the hour managed to spit out. The nerve! I glanced his way, and almost, accidentally made eye contact. If looks could kill, mine definitely would, and I wanted him to see that, but then I realized he’d been goading me for this very reason, to get me to react and look at him. I grinned as I pulled my evil-eye stare back and directed it at his chest instead. Childish? Maybe, but fuck him.

Instead of rising to the bait, I fluffed my dress out, curtsied like the proper lady that I had never been, and excused myself to go prepare some tea for everyone.

“I enjoy mine with sugar and cream,” the assholish younger Tucker called out.

I didn’t bother responding because I also hadn’t planned on actually bringing them tea. He could wait, and then go away disappointed. It would be a precursor to the marriage that neither of us really wanted.

Chapter 3

“You will need to sign here, and initial and date each of these other pages,” my father’s lawyer instructed.

“Okay,” I agreed, though without picking up the pen to sign. Instead, I started reading through the first page.

“Did you not understand the instructions?” The man’s condescending tone was about to get him punched right in his crusty old balls. It didn’t matter that he worked for my father. I wasn’t an idiot and wouldn’t put up with being treated as one.

I glanced up at him as I slid the glasses that I needed for reading down my nose, so that his face didn’t appear blurry. “If you think I’ll sign anything without reading it through for myself first, then you’re the one that doesn’t understand simple instructions. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust this guy,” I stated while pointing to my future husband’s name in the paperwork, “and I don’t trust pretty much anyone else involved in this whole scenario to do what is best for me.”

“I assure you that your father has the best of intentions for you, that is why I am here to represent you.”

“If my father had the absolute best of intentions for me, he wouldn’t be selling his daughter off in order to save his business after his previous business partner screwed him over, now, would he?”