“Are you okay, Perce?” he asks, letting his hands fall away from my face.

I don’t even know how to answer that. After what I’ve just relived, I’m pretty fucking far from okay.

I sit silently for a long moment, images of last night still twirling through my head. The words we exchanged are still fresh in my mind.

Mrs. Lanteri?

I love you?

Husband?

I don’t recognize the woman in the memories. I mean, she’s me, but not a me I’ve ever actually encountered.

I’ve spent so much time thinking I knew myself in and out. And here’s this completely different side of me that I’ve just been ignoring this whole time.

I’ve done some stupid shit during blackouts in the past, but this really fucking takes the cake, the icing, and the fucking fork.

Married Anton?

Professed my love for him?

I must’ve been completely out of my mind.

Well, of course I was. I was fucking blasted on absinthe.

Blowing a mystery guy in a brothel window, I could understand. That’s something I would definitely do.

But this? This is complete and utter insanity.

“Percy!” Anton yells, dragging me back to the present.

My eyes begin to focus, reality solidifying around me.

Anton sits in front of me, his eyes wide with alarm. One of his hands rests on my shoulder, gently shaking me from my stupor.

My heart flickers slightly at his look of concern, my traitorous organ beating harder despite my wishes.

I tamp it down, balling my hands into fists until I feel the bite of my own nails.

“What the fuck did you do?” I growl, zeroing in on him like a predator.

He looks confusedly at me, his hand pulling away from my shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“I married you?” I ask, my voice taking on a touch of hysteria. “How the fuck did you get me to do that?”

He chuckles humorlessly.

“I didn’t make you do anything. Jesus, Percy. Have you met you? How the fuck would I make you do anything?”

Even through my anger, I see his point. Regardless, this is wrong.

“Well, shit. We have to fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“The marriage, Anton! I can’t be married. I already told you that!”

His face pulls into a scowl, anger flashing hotly in his eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You said you remembered! Don’t you remember how it felt, Percy? We love each other. We’re supposed to be married.”

I roll my eyes, sighing in frustration.

“No, Anton. I was drunk. I don’t love you, and we sure as fuck shouldn’t be married.”

The spark of anger I saw in his eyes before pales in comparison to the fury now burning there.

“Bullshit!”

He slams a fist down on the seat beside him, the impact echoing around the car like a gunshot.

“I refuse to believe this crap, Percy. I was there! I witnessed your vows, and I heard you tell me you love me.” He leans in closer. “I watched you come on your fucking veil while you screamed my name. Who the fuck do you think you’re kidding?”

A voice in the back of my head seems to have very strong opinions as to just who I’m kidding. I ignore the bitch, doubling down on my original claims.

I slam my own fist down, feeling disappointed at the muted noise it creates.

“I’m not kidding anyone, Anton. This is just who I am. I’m sorry that you’re so bothered by that, but you’ll get over it eventually.”

He growls in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“You’re impossible!”

“Exactly!” I scream, mimicking his hand movements. “Which is why I can’t be someone’s wife. Are you getting it now?”

He throws his head back, his body losing some of the tension so obviously coiled within.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, measured.

“What I get, Percy, is that you’re afraid—”

My cackle interrupts his thought.

Still, he presses on. “And that’s okay. Percy, we can work through this. Commitment doesn’t have to be some terrifying thing. It’s you and me, for Christ’s sake. We can make this work.”

My heart aches at his sincerity.

Right now, I want nothing more than for him to pick up screaming again. Screaming, I can handle.

“Look, Anton,” I say, trying my best to match his calm. “I’m sorry, okay? Really, I am. But you’ve got the wrong girl. I’m not afraid. I’m just—not interested.”

“Percy—”

I quiet him with a raised hand, frankly surprised that it does the trick.

“I know myself, Anton. This would never work. Let’s just save ourselves a lot of trouble and end it now, okay?”

His eyes once again flicker to life.

“No,” he growls.

I ignore him, clearly not getting my point across.

Instead of bothering to continue, I direct my attention back to his driver.

“Paul, is it? Paul, why don’t you pull the fucking car over before I climb up there and do it myself.”

His eyes meet mine in the rear view, a tinge of hesitancy written across them.

Still, he stubbornly continues to drive.

Fuck.

Well, I’m nothing if not honest. He had his chance.

I lean forward, fully prepared to follow through with the threat.

Of course, Anton’s hands wrap firmly around my hips, fingers digging into me as he drags my ass back to the seat.

“Leave Paul out of it, Perce. He’s just doing his job.”

“What job is that? Kidnapping?”

Anton laughs. “You’re being a bit dramatic, Percy. Don’t you think?”

“Well, if it’s not abduction, what would you call it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Taking my wife for a drive.”

“I’m not your—” I growl in frustration. “Well, I won’t be for very long anyway!”

He just sits back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at me like he’s making an assessment.

“How did you even pull it off?” I ask, suddenly curious. “The spontaneous wedding, I mean.”

He laughs. “I’m a fucking prince, Percy. I can make anything happen.”

His eyes skate across my body as he says it, creating a hollow ache between my legs.

Like everything else to do with my traitorous body today, I ignore it.

“Not anything,” I sneer.

He narrows his eyes, staring at me with his “challenge accepted” look.

Normally, I find that very sexy. Well, if I’m being honest, I still do. But right now, it also pisses me off something fierce.

“You’re my wife, Percy. Whether you like it or not, I’m your husband. And no matter how much you lie to yourself about it, you are in love with me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He throws his head back in laughter, the sound rubbing roughly at my senses.

“Go ahead and be stubborn,” he chides. “But I love you, Percy, and you’re not getting away from me.”

If he weren’t so amused with himself, he would notice the look now flashing across my own face.

That’s the thing about men, though—get them just a little distracted and you can sneak anything past them.

In a flash of movement, my hand’s on the door, tugging quickly at the handle.

I see the spark of recognition in his eyes the moment before I tumble through the opening.

My own “challenge accepted” look is still fixed to my face.