“My son can be quite impetuous,” Jonathan said to her silent accusation, “especially after a broken heart. And I must say, his last broken heart was quite thorough.”

“I am aware,” Hannah said curtly.

“Are you? Well, then you can see why I might find it suspect that my son was in his right mind when he married you. And if I’m not mistaken, you yourself only just got out of a relationship.”

He’d had her looked into? Who did this man think he was? Hannah waited a moment before answering him. Her response needed to be perfect and not the string of profanities she wanted to hurl at him.

“There’s no harm in taking a step back if, perhaps, you feel you two rushed things,” Jonathan continued before she could respond.

“Will and I are happy, sir.” She added the salutation after a beat, hoping it sounded as petulant as it felt. “There was no mistake in our decision.”

“Be that as it may, I can’t have my son risking half his fortune because the girl he once fancied himself in love with decided to glance his way.”

She trained her expression to neutral, though her heart pounded—both because of the delicate situation and the implication that Will was indeed in love with her. Jonathan would not rattle her. She would not give him the satisfaction.

“And if you actually love each other, why not annul the marriage now and give it a go the old-fashioned way? Then get married again with a prenuptial agreement in place. No harm done.”

Hannah swallowed the rage boiling inside her. “I do love your son.”

“And the fact that you could gain a significant manner of wealth if this marriage should go south in a year, a few years, or if an heir were to come of it, had nothing to do with the brash decision to marry him?”

“I didn’t marry Will for his money.” Hannah’s pulse pounded in her head. She’d expected plenty of things from that weekend, but Jonathan’s attempt to overturn the marriage wasn’t one of them. “I was doing just fine on my own.”

“Ah, so ‘just fine’ is now underpaid editor for a no-name magazine that doesn’t even offer health insurance? Interesting.”

Hannah didn’t know if she was more insulted at the dig at her integrity and her livelihood or at the fact that he had figured her out in less than twenty-four hours. “I have loved your son for close to a decade. Three months ago, that love turned romantic. He asked me to marry him. I said yes, but I didn’t want to spend two years of our lives planning a wedding. He agreed. End of story.”

“I’m sure that’s not the end of the story.” His tone was icy and contemptuous. He wasn’t playing polite now. He wanted those papers signed.

“And if I sign the papers?”

“You can date William, if you like.” Jonathan Thorne wasn’t a frivolous man, but his comment held all the attributes of a good shrug.

Hannah realized then that he didn’t care about the aftermath. He wanted his son’s money—his money—handed down and protected, and he wanted to discredit Will. Could this still be about the board position?

“Or go out and find your true love and forget any of this happened,” Jonathan said. “You’ll both be better for it. If anything, I’m sure of that. William is too much heart. He always has been. You and I both know this—that is how he ended up in Iowa, after all.”

She did know that, and it was precisely why she loved him. The world needed more men to lead with their hearts. Hannah stood up, finished with Jonathan and his insinuations and presumptions, and dropped the annulment papers back on his desk. “I know who Will is. Nothing you do is going to make me change my mind about him.”

THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN, and with it came a rush of warmer air from the hallway and Will. Hannah finished her Chaturanga, transitioning into an imperfect Upward-Facing Dog. She smiled at her absentee partner in crime. His eyes were alert with post-run high, but there were bags where there hadn’t been before. A snarky remark about how he’d left her to the wolves died on her lips.

“How was your run?” she asked instead, pushing back into Downward-Facing Dog.

“It ended up being more of an errand. As I was heading out, Dad asked me to pick up some stuff at the farmers market. It’s only about two miles away, down by the beach.” He stripped off his shirt, revealing a nearly flat stomach and speckles of chest hair. Hannah’s insides stirred. Will shirtless wasn’t a new sight, but this was a new Will—a manlier Will, with those defined hip bones sticking out of his too-short running shorts. Her husband was hot.

She stood up from her pose and adjusted her cami, wrapping her arms around her waist to stop from running her hand down Will’s chest. The yoga had cleared her head, but it had also brought on a fabulous or terrible idea. She hadn’t decided until he entered. Jonathan was going to do anything he could to pick apart their relationship. Will had told her as much, but she hadn’t understood before. They needed to be better. They needed to be believable. They needed to be in love.

“Well, are we at least having something yummy for whatever this midafternoon meal is?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Everything Renata makes is yummy,” he said, looking up from the pile of clothes he was digging through.

She gave him a dubious look.

“Everything besides the coffee.” He sat down next to her, the brush of his bare arm once again causing the hair on hers to stand up. “Are you okay? You seem a little weird,” he said, balling a clean shirt in his hands.

There was her opening, but Hannah still didn’t have the words. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking. She straightened her shoulders and rested her hand on Will’s chest.

He went rigid at her touch.

After another moment, she ran her hand up over his shoulder and down his arm, finally linking their fingers. “We need to do a better job of convincing everyone we’re in love.”

“We have the papers.” His voice was breathy but steady. He didn’t look directly at her. “No one can dispute our marriage.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s no doubt that we’re legally married. But we’re supposed to be madly in love, so much so that we got married in less than three months.” She scooted closer to him. Their knees touched. Everything touched. “Kiss me.”

Will leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. It was nice enough, like the kisses they had shared lately, but that kiss wasn’t going to convince anyone. It barely convinced Hannah.

“Kiss me like I’m someone you actually want to have sex with.”

“That might be difficult.” An amused and yet wary expression played across his features.

“Just do it.” Hannah put both her hands against his chest. His heart beat a steady course under her touch. She leaned in when he didn’t move, parting his lips with her own. Will deepened the kiss almost immediately, his tongue greeting hers. Hannah’s body lit up as his hands found the soft skin between her waistband and her cami. She pushed herself closer to him, her hands climbing up his torso, over his shoulders, and wrapping around him. His muscles tightened as her hands passed over them, Will’s kiss becoming more urgent with each caress.

This was exactly how she imagined Will’s kiss to be. Their chemistry was not going to be an issue. She started to retreat, her mind winning over her body. They needed to take this slow. It had only been two out of fifty-two weeks. But Will pulled her back in, his hand coming around her neck and tangling her hair. She breathed him in. Hot and a good kisser. Did she want to sleep with Will? Yes, yes she did.

Will broke away, and Hannah scooted back. Her heart pounded. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. He was too good at following directions. Will’s eyes bored into her, questioning, wanting.

“Yeah, that’s what we need to show people,” she said, still breathless.

Will shook his head, his mouth quirking at the corners. “We can’t do that in polite company.”

“You know what I mean,” Hannah said, shoving his shoulder playfully.   

“Maybe we should start by sharing a bed when we get back to the city. You know, before we complicate things.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. He was trying so hard to be a gentleman, which was adorable. “Are we going to complicate things?”

His cheeks pinkened. “Maybe... eventually.”

She giggled, feeling the kiss in every part of her body. She would have dreams about that kiss—dirty, sweaty dreams. “Okay, hubs, let’s share a bed.”

Chapter 23Hannah

Hannah’s hand tingled as she pulled open the door of the physical therapy office. It was really happening—PT, the doctors, all of it. Daniel had booked her an appointment with a coveted orthopedic surgeon. That wasn’t until January, but after waiting over a year, two months seemed like nothing. And it meant she got to give physical therapy a try with Madison. She hadn’t pegged Madison as a PT, but aside from being a future Thorne, she also came highly recommended.