I Want You

“How so?” I lean forward, desperate for whatever crazy lifeline Silas is about to throw at me.

“You’re married, you idiot!” Silas shouts, throwing his hands up. He paces the length of the room, looking at me like I am the dumbest person alive. “You cannot marry Piper if you are already legally married to someone else. Take Maya to your grandfather. Introduce her as your wife. Problem solved.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I stare at him. My brain stalls, and then the cogs finally click into place. I *am* married.

“You mean… we just stay married?” I ask, testing the weight of the idea.

Silas nods, his blue eyes wide with reckless excitement.

“She won't agree,” I say, leaning back against the cushions. “Why would she want to stay married to a stranger?”

Silas grabs a throw pillow and chucks it at my head. “Because you are Declan Vance Voss, that’s why. You are the most sought-after bachelor in the country. After me, of course.”

I catch the pillow and launch it right back at his chest. “Fuck you. Maya does not care about any of that. She is nothing like the women we usually deal with. My money and my name did not faze her for a single second.”

“Sounds like a catch,” Silas says, catching the pillow and leaning his elbow on it. “Just tell her the truth. Maybe you can appeal to her good nature. She might pity you enough to play along. If that fails, offer her a massive payout. A couple million for a bearding service.”

I drag my hands down my face, letting out a harsh breath. “That sounds crude.”

“Would you rather marry Piper?”

I shake my head and sink deeper into the sofa. “Fuck no.” I stare at the beer bottle in my hand, my mind racing. “At least Maya is fun to be around. If I have to be stuck with someone, I’d rather it be her.”

“Just ask her,” Silas says, taking a swig of his beer. “Worst case, she says no.”

“Oh, she will say no. She is feisty and stubborn as hell,” I mutter, tapping the glass neck of the bottle.

But the seed is planted. It cannot hurt to ask. Maybe she will feel sorry for the corner I am backed into. Maybe a pay raise would sweeten the deal. I spend the whole day at the office amused by her sharp tongue and quick wit. Being married to Piper would be a lifelong prison sentence of fake smiles and obsessive clinging. Being married to Maya? That actually sounds entertaining.

“Feisty, huh?” Silas raises his brows, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. “Good in the sack?”

I bite my bottom lip. The memory of our night in Vegas slams into me with zero warning. The raw, unfiltered heat of it. I remember the friction of her bare skin against mine, her long legs wrapping tight around my waist as she pulled me down onto the hotel mattress. I remember the exact sensation of sinking my hard cock deep into her wet pussy, the tight grip of her internal muscles milking me with every thrust. We fucked for hours, sweaty and relentless, until neither of us could form a coherent sentence.

“Oh, definitely,” I murmur.

A heavy weight lifts off my chest. For the first time in days, the suffocating pressure of my father’s ultimatum recedes. I have a plan.

I leave Silas’s place and drive home to prepare for the massive presentation tomorrow.

The next morning, I sit behind the wheel of my Audi, parked right outside Maya’s apartment building. I check the dashboard clock. Fifteen minutes. I have been waiting for fifteen minutes. I tap my fingers against the leather steering wheel. I hit the horn, letting a sharp blast cut through the morning quiet.

Right on cue, the heavy glass door of her building pushes open.

Maya walks toward the car, and my breath catches in my throat. She wears a tight black pencil skirt that hugs the curve of her hips and a red satin blouse that highlights her pale skin. Her dark hair cascades down her back in loose beach waves, looking exactly like she did the night we met at the club.

She pulls the passenger door open and slides into the seat, bringing the faint scent of vanilla and coffee into the car.

“Jesus, keep your hair on,” she grumbles, yanking the seatbelt across her chest. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”

My eyes drop immediately to her skirt. The fabric rides up to her mid-thigh as she settles into the seat, exposing miles of smooth, shapely legs. Another flash of Vegas hits my brain—those same legs wrapped around my back, her heels digging into my hips as I pounded into her.

“Vance.”

I blink, shaking the explicit image from my head. I look at her through my sunglasses. “Hm?”

She frowns at me, her green eyes sharp. “Are we going, or are we just going to sit here? You were just rushing me a second ago.”

“Yes, we’re going,” I say, shifting the car into drive and pulling out into the busy morning traffic. “How are you? Did you manage to sort out the tires?”

Maya sighs and slumps into the leather seat. “Yes. Someone will be coming to fit new ones later this evening. Thank you for offering to help yesterday. I was in a sour mood. I hope I didn't come off rude.”

I wave a hand, dismissing the apology. “Not at all. It would have pissed me off too if someone stole all the tires off my car. Did you report it?”

Maya shakes her head.

“Why not?” I ask, merging onto the highway.

“What’s the point?” She stares out the passenger window, watching the city blur past. “It’s hardly the crime of the year. It’s inconvenient, sure, but I think the police have much bigger cases that require their attention than my stolen tires.”

I smile, keeping my eyes on the road. “That’s one way to look at it.”

Maya brushes a stray dark curl away from her face. “Nothing seems to be going right for me at the moment. It truly is bizarre.”

I glance at her profile, noting the exhaustion lining her features. “I’ve been there. But you should always try to stay positive. You never know when your luck might change.”

Maya looks at me, her expression flat.

“Might be sooner than you think,” I add, a subtle smirk pulling at my mouth.

“I doubt that,” she mutters.

We spend the next twenty-five minutes running through my work schedule. She is professional, sharp, and organized. She informs me that a two-thirty meeting got pushed back and that a client’s flight from Belgium got delayed. She does the job perfectly.

I pull the Audi into the parking garage beneath the law firm. We ride the elevator in silence.

When we walk through the glass doors of the office, Hugo stands up from behind his massive mahogany desk. He wears a sharp grey suit and a welcoming smile.

“Morning, Mr. Voss. Mrs. Voss.”

I watch Maya closely. She flinches slightly at the title but forces a tight, polite smile. She takes Hugo’s outstretched hand, shakes it, and takes a seat in one of the leather chairs facing the desk. I sit down next to her.

“Okay, Mr. Voss,” Hugo says, opening a thick manila folder. He slides a stack of crisp white papers across the polished wood. “I have drawn up the papers for the divorce. All I need are your signatures right here at the bottom, and I can get it processed today.”

Maya does not hesitate. She picks up the heavy silver pen from the desk, flips to the last page, and signs her name on the dotted line. The quick, decisive scratch of the pen sets my nerves on edge. She did not even pause to think about it.

She holds the pen out to me.

I look at the silver barrel in her hand, then down at the divorce papers. My signature is the only thing standing between me and Piper.

“Vance?” Maya prompts. I lift my gaze to meet hers. “Sign the papers.”

I ignore the pen. Instead, I look up at my lawyer. “Hugo, will you leave us a moment, please?”

Maya whips her head around to look at me, her brow furrowing. She tracks Hugo as he nods, stands up, and walks out the door, pulling it shut behind him with a soft click. The sudden silence in the room feels heavy.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, eyeing me with deep suspicion.

I turn in my chair to face her fully. “Maya. I have a proposition for you.”

Her frown deepens, crinkling the space between her eyes. “A proposition?”

I hold her gaze, keeping my voice steady and calm. “Yes. A proposition.”

She shifts in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay…”

I take a breath. “What if we don’t get a divorce?”

She stares at me. Her face is a blank mask for three seconds before she lets out a loud, genuine laugh. It bounces off the walls of the quiet office.

“Hilarious, Vance,” she says, shaking her head. “Stop screwing around and sign the papers so we can get out of here. I have a ton of emails to sort through.”

I lean back in my chair. I do not reach for the pen. I do not smile.

Her laughter dies off. The amusement drains from her face, replaced by a creeping horror. “You’re not—wait, are you serious?”

“Very.”

“Very? Very what, Vance?” She pushes herself up from the leather chair, her voice rising in pitch. “We agreed to get a divorce. What are you talking about?”

I put my hands on the armrests and watch her pace a short line across the carpet. She glares daggers at me.

“I’m only suggesting we stay married for a little while longer,” I say, keeping my tone level to counter her rising panic.

Maya stops pacing. She plants her hands on her hips and leans down, getting right in my face. “And I am suggesting we get a divorce. Right now. Pick up the pen and sign the damn paper.”

“Maya, just listen to me for a second,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I am stuck in an impossible situation. I need your help.”

Her glare wavers, the raw anger softening just a fraction.

“My dad is forcing me to marry someone I do not love in exchange for his and my grandfather’s shares in the company.” I stand up, needing to be on the same level as her. “My grandfather has a terminal illness. He does not have long to live. His dying wish is to see his firstborn grandchild married before he passes away. If I don’t fulfill that wish, he will give his shares to my cousin Owen.” I run a hand through my hair, the frustration leaking into my voice. “Owen is an idiot. He is a reckless goon who will destroy everything I have worked so hard to build at this company.”

Maya shakes her head slowly, stepping back from me. “Vance, have you lost your mind? You are talking about lying to your family. You want to lie to a dying man. No. No way.”

“I cannot marry Piper,” I press, stepping closer. “She is not the type of girl I see myself settling down with. She is not for me.”

Maya shrugs, tossing her hands up. “How is that any different from what we did? We don’t exactly get along either. Just marry her, get your shares, and then divorce her. Problem solved.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to shake her. “You don’t get it. This girl has been obsessed with me since we were ten years old. Do you honestly think she is going to divorce me after waiting years to trap me? There is zero chance.”

“Vance, listen to what you are asking of me!” Maya yells, resuming her pacing. “You are asking me to stay married to you. To lie. To scheme. I don’t even know you!”

Panic spikes in my chest. She is slipping away. The plan is falling apart before it even begins. I reach out, grab her forearm, and pull her to a stop.

“I’ll pay you,” I blurt out.

The temperature in the room drops to freezing.

Maya looks down at my hand gripping her arm, then slowly lifts her gaze to my face. Her green eyes turn lethal.

“You’ll what?” she whispers, her voice vibrating with raw rage.

“I’ll pay you,” I repeat, desperate to make her see the logic.

She yanks her arm out of my grip with fierce strength. “If you think just because I slept with you, I now owe you something, you are sorely mistaken. Screw you and your job, you arrogant pig.”

She turns away, grabbing her purse from the chair.

“No! Christ, Maya, it's not like that.” I step sideways, blocking her path to the heavy wooden door. “Think of it as a business arrangement. Name your price. Money is no object.”

Maya steps back. A sharp flash of hurt crosses her eyes, cutting through the anger for a split second before the fury returns twice as hard.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she spits, her chest heaving. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Voss, but I am not for sale. Your money can buy you a lot of things, but it cannot buy me. Get out of my way.”

She tries to sidestep me. I shift my weight, blocking her again.

“Jesus, Maya, please just listen to me,” I plead, my voice dropping. “I am not trying to buy you, and the last thing I ever want to do is insult you. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. You are my only hope out of this arranged marriage.”

Maya licks her lips, breathing hard, her fingers raking through her dark hair.

“I know you need the money,” I push, deciding to use my last card. “You have outstanding debts on your student loans.”

She freezes. She spins around, glaring at me with unfiltered hatred.

“It came up in your background check,” I explain quickly. “You can pay those off. You can finish your degree. Just let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help!” she screams, snatching her blazer off the back of the chair. “There are a million girls out there who would marry you without a second thought! Go pick one of them!”

She marches toward the door. I step directly into her path, leaving zero space between us.

“I don’t want them,” I say, my voice low and quiet.

Maya rolls her eyes, pressing her hand against my chest to shove me aside. I don't budge. I reach up and wrap my fingers gently around her wrist, stopping her.

“I want you.”

She stops fighting. She lifts her head slowly. Our eyes lock, the gravity of the confession hanging heavy in the small space between us.

Before either of us can breathe, the brass handle on the door clicks. The heavy wood swings inward.

“Declan?”

Maya and I jump apart like we’ve been burned. I whip my head toward the doorway. My dad stands there in a tailored navy suit, holding a leather briefcase.

Fuck.

“Dad?” I choke out.

He steps into the room, his sharp eyes darting back and forth between Maya and me. He looks at her flushed face, then at my tense posture.

“What is going on here?” he demands, his voice echoing in the quiet office. “What is with the shouting?”

Maya shrinks back, smoothing her hands down her tight pencil skirt, her eyes wide with panic.

“What are you both doing here?” my dad asks, his tone growing colder and far more suspicious.

I look at my father, the man holding my entire future over my head. I look at Maya, trembling slightly by the edge of the desk. Pure, reckless instinct takes over my body.

I step close to Maya. I wrap my arm firmly around her waist and yank her flush against my side. I look my father dead in the eye.

“Dad, I’d like you to officially meet my wife… Maya.”