Rejected Three Times, I Married My Fiancé’s Godfather Uncle

Chapter 2

I went rigid in his arms. Damian's palm pressed against the small of my back, his heat burning through the thin fabric of my gown. His thumb traced my waistline in a slow caress, then slid down along the side of my skirt, stopping at my outer thigh.

I grabbed his wrist. "Damian." The word left my lips, and even I was startled. Something in Damian's eyes darkened.

He leaned down and nipped my earlobe, not hard, but it sent a shiver racing down my spine. "So now you're calling me Damian?"

"I'm Luca's girlfriend," I reminded him through gritted teeth. "You're his uncle."

He said, "So?"

I shot back, "So you shouldn't touch me."

He stared at me for two seconds, then actually let go.

I turned to leave, but he planted a hand against the wall behind me, caging me in with one arm. He didn't touch me again; he merely looked at me with those unsettlingly calm eyes. "Elena, you've been with him for six years. If he really wanted to marry you, he would have done it by now."

I said, "We're still young."

He countered, "He's twenty-seven, not seventeen."

I asked, "What are you trying to say?"

Damian's lips quirked. "I'll give you a month."

I blinked. "What?"

He spoke slowly, deliberately. "Ask him three times. If Luca agrees to marry you even once, there's no rush to hold the wedding, as long as you get legally married, I'll return the Moretti family's ships, restructure the debt, and never touch you again."

I asked, "And if he doesn't agree?"

Damian's gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips, then slowly returned to my eyes. "Then you marry me."

I found it absurd. I said, "You're crazy."

Damian finally stepped back half a step, smoothing out the skirt he'd just wrinkled. His fingertips only brushed the fabric, not my skin, yet it left me more unsettled.

"Give it a try. Let me see just how much my nephew loves you."

On the drive back from the estate, Luca was still comforting me, saying he'd talk to Damian again in a couple of days once Damian was in a better mood. I turned to look at his familiar profile and suddenly asked, "Luca, let's get married."

His hand stilled on the steering wheel. Then he smiled and reached out to ruffle my hair. He asked, "Did my uncle scare you today?"

I said, "I'm serious."

The car fell silent. Luca pulled over to the side of the road, turned around, and pulled me into his arms.

"Elena, of course I want to marry you. But now really isn't the right time. The family is choosing the next successor. If I get married at this time, especially when it's because of the Moretti family's debt, everyone will say I'm being led around by my feelings."

He held me tightly, even kissing the top of my head. "Wait a little longer, okay? Once I secure the dock project, I'll definitely give you the grandest wedding."

His embrace was still the same familiar warmth of the past six years. I rested my head against his chest, telling myself Damian was only trying to drive a wedge between us. It wasn't that Luca didn't love me. He simply wasn't ready. But my first proposal had still failed.