Bryce made it back to the mansion, and they were all clean and Theo was in bed and looking pale when the cops arrived.

Pretending ignorance, his grandfather answered the questions. Mainly, did Theo know where Rory had gone?

Apparently, there was security footage of him breaking into the factory before the fire started and disrupted the feed. In spite of the evidence, Grandfather refused to see him charged with arson.

“The boy deserves his anger,” Theo explained once the officers left.

Bryce couldn’t help a curl of his lip. “Because he’s your son.”

“He is, and at the same time, he isn’t.” Theo sighed. “He might carry some of my genes, but we never had that chance to bond. He calls another father. Which is why you’ll still be my main heir.”

“What?” Bryce thought he’d misunderstood. Could soot make a man deaf?

“I’m not stupid. I know all the hard work you’ve put into this place. All the sweat. It wouldn’t be right to leave it to a stranger, even if he is my blood. That doesn’t mean I’ll leave Rory in the cold, but the company is yours, if you still want it.”

A man who’d gone to the best schools, Bryce managed an eloquent, “Duh.”

“Then I guess that’s settled. Which means you don’t have to keep pretending with the girl. I know your relationship is a sham.”

Bryce narrowed his gaze. “What happened to ‘I’m dying, you need to produce an heir?’”

A shrug rolled the old man’s shoulders. “I might have exaggerated a little. Which means you can call it off. I won’t force you.”

Bryce felt more than saw Melanie stiffen. After all they’d been through, she needed to understand something. “What if I want to stay with her?” She gasped. He turned to face her fully. “Our relationship might have started out under false pretenses, but I love you, kitten. I want to be with you.”

“Really?” she exclaimed softly.

“Yes, really. You’re the one for me, kitten.” Not exactly how he’d imagined announcing it, with his grandfather looking on, and his bed on the other side of the house.

Clap. “This is excellent news,” his grandfather declared. “When’s the wedding?”

“Right now, unless he’d rather die for defiling my daughter.” A certain grizzled lynx stalked into the room ahead of the disheveled butler.

“Daddy? What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t find you so I went looking. Heard there was trouble at the factory so checked there first. When I caught your scent but didn’t see you, I figured you’d be here with him.” Said with a curled lip. “Care to explain what happened to your clothes?” The pointed glare at her oversized shirt—not her own—had her blushing.

Bryce stepped in front of her. “My intentions toward her are honest.”

“Good. That means you won’t mind making it legal, too. Have I mentioned that I’m certified by the good ol’ Internet to perform marriages? So where do you want to get this done?” Kieran pinned him with a golden gaze.

“Now?” The squeak must be a relic from some ancient rodent ancestor because a moose certainly wouldn’t make that sound.

A moose also should stand by his intentions and, despite the settings and the lack of finery, do the right thing.

Why am I freaking? This is what I want.

He dropped to a knee in front of Melanie. “Kitten, I know we’ve not known each other long, but I need you in my life and by my side. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Yes!” Which was how they were married that same night—with Grandfather and Kendrick as witnesses—dressed in borrowed finery, Bryce in a tux his granddad loaned him and Melanie in the dress Bryce’s own mother wore for her wedding dug out of the attic.

It was perfect and beautiful. Kendrick even shed a stoic tear. The ring was the family one, passed down among the generations, and it fit her finger perfectly.

When the ceremony was over and the food brought out, they didn’t stay long to celebrate, especially once Kieran and Theo opened up an old bottle of scotch and began to trade barbs.

Sweeping Melanie into his arms, Bryce practically flew up the stairs to his room and had only just slammed the door shut when his lips claimed hers in a scorching kiss.

Frantic with need, hers as great as his, their hands tore at clothing, frenzied and clumsy. Her mouth clung hotly to his while moans and erratic caresses fired his blood. His cock swelled hard enough to burst.

Once they’d managed to shed their clothes, he toppled them onto the bed, skin to skin, the touch of it electrifying. Despite knowing she was new at this, he couldn’t seem to slow down, not when she kissed him so passionately and groped him so thoroughly.

He lay top her, her legs parted, allowing him to settle between. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she pressed her lips hard against his. Their open mouths meant their tongues could slide against each other.

He could have kissed her forever, but her hips wiggled under him, impatient with desire.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he caressed his way down to a tempting puckered nipple. He latched on, and his cock jerked when she cried out.

He sucked at a taut peak, drawing it into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth. While he played with her succulent breasts, he let his hand travel, looking for her moist core.

Heated honey met his fingertips, and it was his turn to moan against her flesh as he rubbed her slick cunt.

Lick it. Taste it. He could not resist the allure of her nectar. He held her down as she bucked and thrashed, his tongue torturing her tender flesh until he drew that first orgasm from her.

Before it subsided he was stretching her, sliding the tip of a finger into her tight sex, as his tongue kept lapping, bringing her back to the edge, getting her ready for what would come next.

When her moans turned into breathless gasps, he slid up her body and let the thick head of his cock nudge her moist entrance.

She chose that moment to open her eyes and stare at him. Connecting them on a deeper level than he’d imagined possible.

“Love me,” she whispered.

“Always and forever.” He thrust into her, knowing this part couldn’t be slow.

Her body arched, not far since he had her pinned to the bed. He held his sheathed position for a moment, letting her adjust.

When she relaxed, he caught her mouth and kissed her. Kissed her softly, still not moving. He didn’t move at all until she kissed him back.

Pure torture, especially considering how tight her throbbing flesh was around him.

Slowly, he stroked her, in and out, stretching her, building her pleasure, waiting for her to respond before quickening his pace. When her hips rolled in rhythm with his strokes, he thrust even faster, her whimpering cries building in intensity.

Her body tightening as she got closer.

And closer.

“Yes!”

He didn’t need her scream to feel her orgasm rippling around his cock, drawing forth his climax as she fisted him and milked him until he collapsed atop her.

And then they heard it.

Singing.

Drunken singing.

As if that stopped him from making love to his wife again.

He also later posted an update on his social media: #gotmarried.

Ping.

Melanie tagged his post: #thisrackismine.