HER ONLY HOPE (LK Adaptation)

Part 14

He returned quickly enough, dressed—thankfully—in a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, so all she had to contend with was the fascinating specter of his tanned legs with muscular calves and the perfect covering of dark hair. So masculine and...inwardly she groaned. This was going to be a disaster.

'Okay.' He took up a matching position to hers, bracing his palms on either side of the counter, watching her with a small flicker of amusement at the corner of his lips. 'Let's do this.'

She nodded, gratitude making her heart twist. 'I've got some documents for you to review.'

'Documents?' His eyes flickered over her face with a hint of mockery, but she refused to be intimidated.

Given our individual wealth and asset base, legal protections make sense.'

'In case I ever try to take you to the cleaners?'

Her lips tightened. 'It wouldn't be the first time.' She unzipped her document wallet with force, removing the contracts.

She hated the sympathy she saw in Jungkook 's face. All year, people had viewed her as a victim, but that was about to stop. She was going to show everyone not only that she'd moved on, but also that she was deliriously happy—and with Greece's number-one bachelor, to boot.

He reached for the contracts, skimming the first page, turning it, reviewing the second. 'This looks standard.'

She raised her brows. 'How many prenuptial agreements have you signed?'

'None.' He glanced at her. 'But enough contracts to recognise unaltered legalese when I see it.'

'I just downloaded a standard template and modified it slightly. The gist is just that we keep what we came into the marriage with. So if we were to divorce, neither would have a claim on the other's wealth.'

'Seems reasonable.' He paused as he turned the page. 'Is there anything in here about children?'

'No.' She hesitated, feeling as though she were stepping into the twilight zone. 'I've been thinking about that.'

His expression gave nothing away, but her tummy suddenly squeezed as her nerves began to jangle. 'I know that's your condition for agreeing to this.' She spoke the words so quickly they all tripped over each other. 'And I agree to it in principle. But...' She paused, reaching into her briefcase and pulling out another document. 'There's something important we should discuss first.'

He waited with an expression that gave nothing away.

'I know your parents divorced, and that a lot of people do, and that's fine.' She missed the twisting of emotion deep in his eyes—her own feelings were taking too much space. 'But we're making a decision to get married specifically for the purpose of having children. I think it's only fair—to those children—that we agree to do everything we can to hold our marriage together. I would prefer not to share custody across our homes if we can find a way to live as husband and wife, come what may.'

'That seems fair.'

Her eyes widened. 'So you're saying you'd want to stay married?'

'Yes.' His eyes lanced her. 'My preference would also be to raise our children together.'

'What if you're miserable? Or I'm miserable?'

'Then we'll re-evaluate things. But as much as possible, we should go into this marriage with the intention of it being for good.'

Her heart leaped, and she tried not to be too pleased at the small victory. Everything with Mingyu had been a fight, all the time. She hadn't expected—or been prepared—for Jungkook  to be so reasonable. Strangely, despite having spent a year fighting for divorce from Mingyu then a year recovering from it, she didn't feel at all nervous about what she and Jungkook  had just agreed to.

As he continued to read, her cheeks flamed red, because she knew what the next section of her homemade contract dealt with.

'Sex on Friday night through Sunday night only.' It was obvious, when he lifted his face to look at her, that he was trying to flatten a smile. 'Never during the week?'

She shook her head firmly. 'I think it makes perfect sense to establish these—'

'Rules,' he supplied.

'Right.' She nodded, briskly.

'Uh-huh.' He turned the page, frowning when there was nothing further. 'There's no penalty clause.'

'I'm sorry?'