Chapter 4 Marry Me

Bradley POV

The red mark on Dayna's cheek was already beginning to swell. She winced but didn't make a sound.

"Jamie." My voice was quiet, but the edge in it made the doctor jump.

"Y-yes, Mr. Booth?"

"Get something to treat the swelling on her face."

He scrambled for the medical cart, pulling out supplies with trembling hands. As he approached Dayna with antiseptic and ice packs, I moved closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear.

"That's twice now you've failed in your duties." I kept my tone pleasant. "I don't want it happen again."

The color drained from his face. "Yes, I understand."

I watched as he gently cleaned the area around Dayna's injury, his hands now steady despite his fear. She sat perfectly still.

"All done, Miss Melgar," Jamie said quietly. "The swelling should go down in a few hours. I'll leave you to rest."

He practically fled the room.

Dayna lay back against the pillows, her hands folded neatly over her stomach. In the harsh fluorescent light, she looked impossibly small and fragile.

"Mr. Booth?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. Did I... did I cause you trouble?"

The question caught me off guard. After everything that had happened, she was worried about inconveniencing me?

I moved to the chair beside her bed, settling into it. "No trouble. You should rest and focus on your treatment."

She turned her head toward my voice, and I noticed her brow furrow slightly.

Is she really this innocent? I'd seen women like Marisa before—beautiful, calculating, willing to do anything to climb the social ladder. Dayna had saved my grandmother, yes. But was that genuine kindness, or had she recognized an opportunity?

Still, regardless of her motives, she was Martha's savior. I wouldn't let anyone hurt her while she was under my protection.

Even if she turned out to be no different from the rest, dealing with her would be my responsibility. No one else's.

I was still considering how to broach the subject of marriage when Dayna spoke again.

"Mr. Booth, I... I've been thinking." She bit her lower lip. "I don't want to continue with the treatment."

I leaned forward. "Why not?"

"Dr. Bhatt said the surgery would cost at least three hundred thousand dollars." Her voice trembled slightly. "I can't afford that. And I need to start college. I can't keep missing classes, and I certainly can't ask for more help when I've already—"

"You think you can study effectively while blind?" The words came out sharper than I intended.

She flinched. "I could try. I could—"

"I'll cover all your medical expenses." I cut her off. "You can't learn properly if you can't see. Get the surgery, recover your vision, then worry about your education."

"But that's so much money." Her hands twisted in the blanket. "Even if I worked three jobs, I could never pay you back. I can't—"

"Marry me."

The words hung in the air between us.

Dayna's mouth fell open. "What?"

"Marry me," I repeated, keeping my tone businesslike. "If you become my wife, then paying for my wife's medical expenses is perfectly reasonable. Expected, even."

"I... I don't..." She struggled to form words, her cheeks flushing pink. "Mr. Booth, I can't possibly—"

"Think of it as a practical arrangement," I said. "You need medical care. My grandmother wants to see you taken care of. This solves both problems."

She was silent for a long moment, her face a canvas of conflicting emotions. Finally, she spoke, her voice small but determined.

"Okay. I'll marry you."

Relief flickered through me—though why I felt relieved, I couldn't say.

"But," she continued quickly, "I want you to know that this is still a loan. All of it. When my eyes are better and I can work, I'll pay you back every cent. I won't be a burden."

The corner of my mouth twitched. Here she was, agreeing to marriage, and still worried about being a burden. Either she was the most genuine person I'd ever met, or the best actress.

"Get some rest," I said, standing.

I arranged for a nurse to settle Dayna into a private room. Once I was certain she was taken care of, I found Jamie in his office, hunched over his computer.

"Tomorrow morning," I said without preamble. "I want the best ophthalmologist available for Dayna's surgery. Spare no expense."

"Yes, Mr. Booth. I'll arrange everything."

The next morning, I found myself walking toward Dayna's room earlier than necessary. The hospital was quiet, most of the staff just beginning their shifts.

I pushed open the door to find her already awake, sitting up in bed.

"Mr. Booth," she said immediately, before I'd taken two steps into the room.

I paused. "How did you know it was me?"

A small smile played at her lips. "Your footsteps. And that sandalwood scent you wear. It's... distinctive."

Something about the observation unsettled me. She'd memorized the sound of my walk, the scent of my cologne. Such small details, noticed and cataloged despite her blindness.

"An international eye specialist will perform your surgery this morning," I said, pushing the thought aside. "He's one of the best in the world."

Tears welled up in her sightless eyes. "Really? Do you think... will I be able to see again?"

"Not immediately. The surgery will repair the damage, but full vision recovery takes time."

She nodded, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "I understand. Thank you. I don't know how I'll ever—"

"We'll need to sign the consent forms," I interrupted, unwilling to hear another promise to repay me.

A nurse appeared with a clipboard. "We need a signature from a direct family member for the procedure."

"I'll sign," I said firmly.

The nurse hesitated. "Sir, hospital policy requires—"

"Mr. Booth has my full authorization," Jamie's voice came from behind me. He'd appeared in the doorway, looking considerably more professional than he had yesterday. "Given the circumstances, we can make an exception."

I signed the forms with quick, efficient strokes.

Four hours later, when they finally wheeled Dayna out of the operating room, her eyes were covered by a white medical eye mask. As they settled her back in her room, I watched her hands reach up tentatively, carefully lifting the edge of the mask away from her face.

"I can see light!" she breathed, her voice full of wonder.

It was the first time I'd seen her eyes open—really open, not just the blank stare of blindness. Even with her vision still impaired, her eyes were striking. Emerald green, though currently clouded and unfocused.

I found myself imagining what they'd look like when she could see clearly again. It must be beautiful.

The thought was... not unwelcome.

"I have a gift for you," I said.

"A gift?" She turned her head toward me, confused.

"Yes, a gift, " I replied calmly. Most women in her situation would have made a spectacle of themselves. Tears, dramatics, anything to earn sympathy. But she didn't. That made her different.

"What kind of gift?"

"We're going to the courthouse. To make our arrangement official."

Her face flushed. "Already? But I... I haven't prepared anything. I don't have anything to wear, and—"

She looked like a startled deer, all nervous energy and genuine panic. It was so different from the calculated responses I was used to from women in Bayville's social circles.

"Jamie," I called. "Please have a nurse help Miss Melgar change and arrange for appropriate clothing."

After they left, Parker appeared at my side. "Mr. Booth, are you certain about this? Actually marrying her?"

"My grandmother's wishes aren't negotiable," I replied. "If a marriage certificate will put her mind at ease, then that's what I'll do."

What I didn't tell him was that, if Dayna proves to be like the others, the prenup will ensure she leaves with nothing.

But even as I thought it, I couldn't deny a certain curiosity about this girl. Why would a woman save a stranger without thought for herself and insist on treating hundreds of thousands of dollars as a loan?

"Mr. Booth?" Parker's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "She's ready."

I turned.

Dayna stood in the doorway, wearing a simple pale blue dress that somehow made her look both younger and more elegant. Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and her hands twisted nervously in front of her.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

"I... is this okay?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain. "The nurse said it was appropriate, but I can't see—"

"It's fine." I cleared my throat. "Let's go."

As Parker helped her toward the elevator, I found myself studying her profile.

A slight smile tugged at my lips. Maybe this marriage wouldn't be so bad after all.

At the very least, I'd have someone like her around—a foolish girl who wore all her thoughts on her face.

Only if she weren't pretending.