Sorrows and Lace by Bonnie R. Paulson, Brilee Editing

more shifts and now I’m here and I’ve had to leave that… my… world behind. It’s… a little much, you know?”
    Sympathy had him turn his hand over and grip her fingers. She’d always brought out the caring side of him. He pressed her fingers with his. “It’s scary, I get that. But it’s not permanent. I’ll even draw up something where you’ll get money for being with me for a specified length of time, if you decide we won’t work.”
    The memory of when she’d shared her biggest fear with him in the twilight of a football game replayed for Ronan at the same time bitterness swept her face.
    In the next moment, Ronan rushed on – obviously he’d spoken out of turn. “No, Kelsey, me paying you money does not make you a whore. I am not paying you for sex. I’m paying you to be my wife – it’s an entirely different thing.”
    And it had to be. Because how else would he find a woman to be his wife for such selfish reasons? He wasn’t dumb . Even with all his money, appearances, and land, he’d never meet another woman who wouldn’t be completely wrapped up in his money and not about kids. Like his soon-to-be-ex-wife He needed a mother for his children. And someone who might one day love him.
    Kelsey’s raw pain had been evident when she’d spoken of having children. Even if they didn’t stay married, she’d be the kind of mother who would love their children.
    Ronan needed that for his babies. Wanted nothing less. “Maybe I’m still a little drunk because I’m thinking this couldn’t be simpler. People around here wouldn’t think it was out of the ordinary because of our history —”
    “Exactly, R.J. Our history. I’m more than half-Salish. What the hell would your parents say, if they were here? Aren’t you worried about ruining your line?” She uncrossed her arms and returned to thrumming her fingers on the granite countertop. Irritation chopped her words in crisp patches.
    Something he’d said or done had pissed her off.
    Ronan shrugged. Truth was, the question reeked of validity. The way they’d parted had been less than fair or amiable. He’d never stopped regretting it. “Mom and Dad aren’t around anymore. I don’t need genealogy to secure the land. I just need to be married and produce an heir. With you, I’ll fulfill my obligations.” Plus… there was the intense need to see if they would fit in each other’s arms like they used to.
    “ Do you know how medieval this sounds? I understand this is how the ranching lifestyle is but… Okay, you keep saying we’re to have children. If, and I mean if , I do this, I want a trial period of one month. No baby talk, nothing, no pressure. Just time to figure out if we can handle living under the same roof together. Okay? Can you handle that?” She swallowed and Ronan found the lines of her collarbones extremely sexy.
    “Didn’t you wonder how you got where you were this morning?” He stepped close to her, reaching the few inches to trace the line of her neck to the hollow just above the beginning of her cleavage. He lowered his voice, sticking to the honest and blunt tactic he’d started. “I undressed you, Kelsey, and got you into bed. I’m not ashamed to admit it was a beautiful experience. One I’d like to repeat, again and again. But next time with you awake. We can do time, but we have to do it married. I’m sorry. If at the end of the trial period, you want out, we’ll get an annulment.” Yeah, like he’d let her go after he finally got to have her.
    Torture was giving a dying man his life back and then snatching it away.
    Excitement at touching her roughed up his voice as it tightened the muscles around his jaw. Softly stern, Ronan continued. “So if you agree and we get married, there are some things you will be expected to do.”
    Kelsey held up a finger. “Wait. I read this book before.” She pinned him with her gaze. “You want me to be a biddable and loving wife for however long, is that right?”