Part 7

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Sympathy would be her undoing. She focused on her parents rather than allowing his words to serve as any kind of balm. 'It's been hard on them, and after Minho, it's the last thing they need. Now, with Dad's health, I need to make everything right. I need to fix this.'

'And you have a plan?'

'Yes, that's exactly right.' She swallowed past the tangle of nerves. 'I can see a solution to everything, but I have no idea if you'll agree. It's actually going to sound very mad, I'm afraid, but there's nothing for it. No idea's too crazy, right?'

He didn't look convinced. 'Go on.'

Her stomach squeezed. Do it. Get it over with. 'I was wondering how you'd feel about marrying me, Jungkook ?'

The sound of a pin dropping would have echoed through the silent room.

'Just to be clear—is this a joke?'

'No.' Her pretty lips formed a perfect Cupid's bow as she grimaced, and her eyes skittered away from him, as they'd done far too frequently during this short meeting.

He couldn't say what he'd been expecting, but definitely not this.

'So you came to my office to propose?' he demanded, wondering at the anger that was sparking low down in his gut. He hadn't seen Lalisa Manoban in years—she shouldn't still be able to invoke this kind of response in him—but there was no questioning the fact that she'd shot his senses into overdrive from the moment of her arrival, just as she had that night.

Sleeping with her had been a mistake he regretted to this day, almost as much as he did the cruel words he'd thrown at her afterwards. But the truth was, he'd have said anything in that moment to put a stop to what had happened. If he could have taken back that night, he would have. It had been madness. He still wasn't over it. Not the sex, but the fact he'd made a mistake by sleeping with her at all, and Jungkook didn't make mistakes.

Yet the desire he felt for her was unmistakable. Even now, after living with the guilt of his betrayal of Minho, he couldn't look at Lisa without those old feelings stirring, as potently demanding as ever. But Lisa was not a mistake he intended to make twice, no matter how tempted he was.

'I know it sounds mad,' she admitted.

'Mad? It's worse than that. It's impossible.'

Her skin paled to the colour of cream. 'Why?'

'Because—' He cursed softly. 'You may not have realised this about me, but I'm hardly the marrying kind.'

'My parents think you are.'

'Your parents are far too generous in their assessment. Believe me, I could never make you happy.'

'I'm not looking for you to make me happy,' she volleyed back with urgency. 'I've already been married once and I think the whole idea stinks.'

'On this, we are in agreement.'

Her eyes met his, a challenge in their depths, so a strange tightening gripped his gut. He stood perfectly still, refusing to be moved by her request.

'You're a businessman, and I'm suggesting a businesslike marriage. We'll sign some contracts, pose for a few photos, then move on with our lives.'

He shook his head in a demurral. 'I can see why you're suggesting this, but what is in it for me?' Her cheeks flushed and an answering awareness flared to life inside of him, so danger sirens blared continually. 'A businesslike arrangement would involve us both getting something we wanted from the deal,' he continued, careful not to betray the direction of his thoughts. 'What do I get out of it?'

'Apart from making a man you purport to care about happy?'

'I care for and respect your parents, but I am too old to do anything for anyone else. What else have you got?'

She flinched, evidently not expecting this barrier. 'Tell me what you'd want.'

'Nothing,' he was quick to respond, even as his whole body tightened with a surge of powerful attraction, a need to possess her that was every bit as strong as it had been four years earlier. He closed his eyes against its power and sway, but that was worse, because his mind homed in on another point in the marriage's favour, something he could present as a term of his own.

'There must be something,' she pleaded now, sucking in a sharp breath, and her breasts thrust forward, so for a brief moment he was powerless to resist and allowed his gaze to drop, to admire the sweet swell of her cleavage against the pale dress she wore, awareness of her femininity stirring something to life inside of him.

The night they'd made love, they hadn't been Jungkook and Lisa. They'd been as wild as animals, driven by primal grief, so he'd torn her clothes from her body and she'd scratched his back and they'd bitten one another and made love so hard and fast that it hadn't been until he entered her that he realised it was her first time. And then it was too late, they were both too caught up in the moment, too desperate to feel the heavenly release to do anything but surrender to it completely. Everything about that night had been feral and elemental, had made perfect sense at the time, and none in the moments immediately afterwards, when he'd realised that he'd betrayed some vital bond of trust, crossing a line he should never have gone near.

'Please, Jungkook , won't you think about it?' For a moment, he was reminded of Minho, and how he would do anything for his dear friend. Guilt chafed at him. He'd slept with Lisa . Didn't he have a moral obligation to help her in some way? Because of Minho. Because of her parents. Because of how he'd treated her in the past.

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