Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 64: Marriage Proposal

"Hey..." Gianna said in greeting when she reached the table, their eyes still locked, the word slipping out softer than she intended.

She hated the way her voice betrayed her, the unwanted warmth threading through it.

Didn’t her mind and body understand that she couldn’t have anything to do with this man—this man who made the reddish hue look more dangerous, more appealing than it had any right to be?

Hadn’t they listened to her vehement decisions last night?

She wanted no trouble. Didn’t want to be caught in some familial war that wasn’t hers to fight. And yet here she was, sounding like all she wanted was his lips on hers.

"Hey, beauty..."

And that voice.

One hand clutched her purse tight, knuckles whitening slightly, while the other held onto the shopping bag in her grasp—the one containing his dried clothes.

That voice was sin, wrapping around her senses like a promise she knew better than to believe.

And why was he looking at her like that?

Like he was already devouring her, slowly, like she was a meal he’d been starving for.

She didn’t need a seer to tell her where his thoughts were headed. The heat in his gaze said enough.

She stretched the bag toward him clumsily, movements a little stiff, needing—desperately—to break the charged atmosphere.

Relief loosened her chest when the emotion in his eyes shifted, confusion flickering there as he slowly accepted the bag.

"What’s this, beauty?"

"Your clothes."

She took a seat, suddenly hyperaware of the waitress still standing with them.

Her face flushed crimson, warmth blooming across her cheeks. The waitress had surely had her fill of them already—of the looks, the tension, the unspoken.

It was confirmed when Gianna glanced up and caught the woman’s shy yet alert expression as she turned her attention to Noah, asking what they would have, respectfully.

Noah looked at Gianna instead. "You didn’t have to."

"I had to. They’re yours."

Noah’s lips tugged into a smile. "You really will drive me crazy at this rate, beauty. Check the menu and choose whatever you want..."

With all pleasure, Gianna mused, picking up the black page. Even though Dario was an ass for hurting her friend, his restaurants were the best in town—the food utterly, unforgivably delicious.

When she made her selection and communicated it to the waitress, she finally relaxed into her seat. Her gaze drifted back to Noah—and lingered.

She found that she loved watching him.

Dangerous territory, she muttered internally, forcing herself to look away.

She had never thought a man would intrigue her this way again—not after Zane. But here it was, happening anyway. And still, she knew she would do nothing about it.

He was too shrouded in trouble. And she didn’t want that. Best not to get ideas.

"You really love their food..." Noah cited moments later, watching her eat.

Gianna nodded. "Yes, I do."

She took another scoop of the sumptuous meal, holding back a moan of delight. Dario and his chefs needed awards for what they created in those kitchens.

"Don’t you?"

"I think they are good." Noah answered, taking a sip of wine, his eyes drifting over her face—her lips, her exposed neck, the soft hollow at her collarbone.

Gianna blushed under the naked, unguarded scrutiny. Her breath hitched. She cleared her throat and reached for her glass.

Get your head in the game, Gia! She screamed it mentally, yanking her defenses back into place.

Noah wasn’t pleased. He saw it immediately—the careful mask sliding over her features, the mild hardening of her eyes that had been vulnerable just moments ago.

"You don’t have to throw up your guards around me, beauty."

"I do. You are a man."

Noah laughed, the sound rich enough to send tiny fractures through her walls. She looked away from him, down at her food, taking another deliberate scoop.

"So were you able to retrieve your goods from your uncle?"

Gianna nodded as she chewed, not elaborating. She raised a brow when Noah didn’t stop staring at her.

"I think I’m in love with you, Gianna..."

The words were delivered low, soft, intimate.

She sighed. "Be careful throwing those words around if you don’t—"

"I mean it." Noah leaned forward, reaching out, taking her hand in his. "I want you."

Gianna opened her mouth—then shut it. She wanted him too.

She didn’t know how long the feeling would last, but she wanted to taste those firm lips, wanted to know what it would feel like to give in. Yet at what cost?

She shook her head gently, easing her hand from his grasp. "I’m not ready for a relationship."

"I am serious, Gianna. I want you with me."

What part of her last statement didn’t he understand?

She watched as he slid a black book toward her across the table. For a moment, she thought it was another menu—until she caught the look on his face.

Her brows furrowed as she picked it up and opened it.

She chuckled drily. A marriage contract?

Had she offended someone in a past life? Was that why she kept being dragged into contractual marriages? First Zane. Now this.

"What is this?"

"A marriage contract." Noah said simply, watching her closely.

"I thought you wanted me—thought that insinuated the traditional way of pursuing a woman. So why the contract?"

"It was a second option, in case you rejected me. I need you close by, beauty. Need to have you in my space."

Gianna frowned. "You planned for me turning you down?"

Noah shrugged. "I like having every area covered."

Gianna nodded slowly and closed the book.

"Gianna... I really—"

"No."

The word cut Noah off completely, drying out whatever followed. His face twisted in shock.

"You didn’t even go through the benefits, what it entails... it will be—"

"No, Noah. I’m not interested in a contractual marriage. Or any marriage at all."

Noah’s hands clenched, then loosened on his thigh. What was he missing? What was he getting wrong?

"Neither am I interested in any relationship apart from friendship."

"So you want me to debunk the rumors that we’re dating..." Noah’s voice turned calculating, expression shifting into that blank, professional mask of a businessman.

Gianna pressed her lips together. Dating rumors were good PR—good for business.

She leaned back, mirroring his posture, businesslike now. A little amused at how swiftly the atmosphere had pivoted.

"We can allow them to speculate. We both know it’s good for business. Advantageous to us."

"To you, actually... I have no need for it."

"Because you already got what you wanted from that elaborate display last week?"

"You got back your mother’s necklace..." Noah countered softly.

"Yet I still owe you a hundred million dollars."

"I didn’t ask you to pay me back, beauty—"

"Gianna. Call me Gianna."

Noah sighed, looking away, visibly unsettled. "I’m sorry..."

"No. It’s okay. Nothing to apologize for. We’re all selfish in our own ways." She paused. "So... are we friends or not?"

She extended her hand.

He didn’t look pleased. But he shook her hand anyway.

"I’ll make do with what I have. Friends then. But the offer is still open."

Gianna smiled thinly. He was allowed to hope.