The words hung in the air between us like a death sentence. "Marry me." James Morrison, the man whose heart I'd broken five years ago, was asking me to be his wife. Not out of love, but to save my daughter.
"What?" I whispered, sure I'd misheard.
Mikel's face had gone ashen. "James, you can't be serious."
But James's expression was deadly serious as he leaned forward across the small cafe table. "Spousal privilege overrides attorney-client privilege in cases where there's a direct conflict of interest. If Bella becomes my wife, I can legally testify against Thomas and use all the evidence he shared with me."
My hands started shaking so violently I had to set down my coffee cup. "You're asking me to marry you to break some legal technicality?"
"I'm asking you to marry me to save Emma."
