He lets out a bitter laugh, his smirk twisting into a frown. "Angry? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

He drops his hand from your chin, his fingers running roughly through his hair as he stands up. He paces the room, agitation clear in his movements.

"I'm absolutely furious." He says, his voice low and dangerous. "This whole damn situation is a joke. I don't want to be married to you. You're just here to fulfill some stupid political scheme our families cooked up."

He turns to face you again, his eyes blazing with anger. "I don't want this. I don't want you. But I don't have a say in the matter, so here we are."

He crosses the room in three short strides, stopping directly in front of you. He reaches out, his hand gripping the back of your chair as he leans in close.

"But you know what's even more infuriating?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper against your ear. "You're absolutely gorgeous."