by Holly Jaymes
“Ready?” she asked, as she stood.
“As I’ll ever be. Let’s start with Cal.”
I held my hand out for her to proceed me to Calvin’s office.
“You look a little like you’re walking toward the guillotine,” she murmured.
“Sorry.”
“You can still change your mind.”
I didn’t say anything as I knocked on and then opened the door of Cal’s office.
“Will. Is it time already?” Cal stood and reached out his hand.
I shook it. “Thanks for meeting with me on short notice.”
“Of course, of course. I assume this is about Ms. Beaumont’s visa,” he said with a glance to Adalyn.
“No.” One thing I needed to be clear on was that our marriage wasn’t a way to usurp immigration rules. “Actually, it’s about something else. I should have said something sooner but … well … things have changed, and I need to let you know.” I motioned for Adalyn to sit in the chair in front of Cal’s desk. I took the one next to her. “The thing is, Cal, Adalyn and I have been seeing each other.” I took her hand. She squeezed it, and it was surprising how much that one little move boosted my will to continue.
“Oh?” Cal’s expression showed concern. “We have policies about —”
“I know.” I held up a hand. “But first, she’s technically your employee, not mine.”
Cal gave a nod of consent.
“Even so, we knew it could be an issue, which is why we hid it.”
“Okay.” He said it in a way that suggested he knew there was more to the story.
“We got engaged recently, and were planning to wait until after the project was finished to get married.”
“Oh … wow …”
“But when we were in Vegas, we thought ‘what the hell.’”
Cal’s eyes narrowed, like he couldn’t believe it. After all, I wasn’t a “what the hell” kind of man. Except where Adalyn was involved, because our 24 hours in Vegas was a wall to wall “what the hell” day.
“Are you saying you got married?”
“Yes.” I brought Adalyn’s hand up to my lips and kissed the back of it.
“I guess Vegas has that effect on people.” He leaned forward. “You didn’t even know she was in Vegas when you contacted me Sunday night.”
Oh fuck. I forgot about that.
“It was part of our attempt to keep things a secret,” Adalyn jumped in. “It would look strange if we went together. This way you have no idea we were an item.”
Catching on, I added. “We hadn’t planned to get married. We just wanted some time alone away from work and not have to worry about who might see us.”
“I see.” He didn’t seem to buy it. “I guess that fixes the immigration issue, then,”
“Does it?” Adalyn asked.
Cal scrutinizing eyes told me he knew exactly what we were doing. “It’s my understanding that it’s easier to stay if you’re married to a citizen.”
Not wanting to treat him like a complete fool, I said, “I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought about that, but this is no scam, Cal. I’ve wanted Adalyn since I first met her three years ago.”
She looked at me with surprise in her eyes. She quickly smiled sweetly as if she realized she could be giving us away.
“When she came back this time, I wasn’t going to let her get away. I’m not going to let my government take her from me either.”
“I never knew you to be so romantic, Sloane.”
I shrugged. “It’s new to me too.”
“I’m glad to hear this, at least about the immigration thing. This project is too important, and I’ve been talking to one of the other teams about having Adalyn work with them on some new encryption we’re working on.”
“Oh, I like encryption work,” she said.
After our private conversation with Cal, we met with the team, and told them what I’d said to Cal. The response was about the same; confusion and suspicion. I kept my arm around Adalyn, hoping I was pulling off the image of a loving new husband.
When we were done, I walked her back to her desk.
“Any requests for dinner?” I asked.
She stepped closer to me, slid her hand over my shoulder, and waggled her eyebrows. “Yes,” she cooed, and my dick twitched behind the zipper of my Italian slacks.
I wrapped my hand around her waist. “Hungry again?”
“Always.”
I leaned in, touched my lips to hers in what should have been a quick kiss, but lingered a bit longer. “See you tonight.”
As I walked out of CTS, I realized that none of the exchange I just had with Adalyn was an act. Pulling her into my arms and tasting her sweet lips was as natural as breathing. And so, so dangerous to my heart.
Book 4: Chapter 13—The Game is Afoot
The Game is Afoot
Adalyn — Thursday
I had been a nervous wreck about telling people I was married. What if they could tell this marriage was a sham? Although when Will kissed me goodbye that afternoon, it didn’t feel fake. My body had gotten warm. Endorphins coursed through my blood. I wanted to grab him and take him to the nearest dark closet and do wild, wicked things with him. But I pushed that aside as got back to work.
The day was getting ready to end when I got a call from the front desk.
“A Mr. Bigalow is here.”
Oh crap. Panic flooded my body and I began to shake. “I’ll be right there.” I took a deep breath. “You can pull this off,” I told myself. For both Will’s sake and mine, I had to.
I walked out to the front area of the office. “Mr. Bigalow.” I reached out my hand to shake his.
“Ms. Beaumont.”
Did I tell him it was Sloane now? That eagerness might make him suspicious. “Shall we go into the conference room?”
We went into the tiny room crowded with a table and chairs. I motioned for him to sit. I sat across from him.
“As you know, we’re having some concerns about security risks.”
I nodded. “Yes. You don’t have to worry, but I understand why you do.”
“We are weighing the work you’re doing here in your favor, but we understand that it's almost done.”
“Yes. But I’m hoping I’ll be able to stay in the United States with my husband. Cal and I have been discussing a new project once this one is finished.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did you say husband?”
I nodded and then forced myself to smile dreamily. Wasn’t that what women did when they were newly married?
He frowned. “You know it’s against the law to get married.”
I widened my eyes in shock. “It’s illegal to get married in the United States? Or to get married to foreigners? I never heard that the U.S. made a law against getting married.”
He pursed his lips at me. “Marriage fraud is illegal.”
I made my face look offended. “My marriage isn’t a fraud, Mr. Bigalow.”
“If you did it to fix your immigration problem, it is.”
My heart was beating a million miles a minute, so it took all the effort I had to keep my voice calm. I put my hands in my lap to make sure he couldn’t see them shaking.
“I assure you that was not why we married.”
He sat back in his chair, his narrow dark eyes studying me. I pressed my fingers into my palms to keep from squirming under his scrutiny. “You were just in Vegas. Is that where these so-called nuptials occurred?”
“Yes.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Come on, Ms. Beaumont —”
“Sloane. It’s Mrs. Sloane.”
His brows pulled together. “As in Will Sloane, your boss?”
“Yes, Will Sloane.” God, I hoped I wasn’t throwing him under the bus. “Because of his position, we kept our relationship secret until recently. He proposed, and while in Vegas we thought why not there? So we got married.”
“You’re saying you and Mr. Sloane have been dating
?”
I nodded. “I’ve known Will for three years. We flirted some back then, but when I got this project, we took it to the next level.”
“And everyone around you knew that.”
I shook my head. “No. There were concerns about his being my boss. Which really, he’s not. It was a source of conflict for us because I wanted to tell people, but he worried it would look bad.” Goodness, I was starting to ramble.
“Are you planning to apply for a green card?”
“I sent my application in this morning.”
“Quick work,” he said, his tone clearly suspicious.
“You’ve made it clear that my time was running out.” I winced as I realized that could make it seem like we married to fix my immigration status.
“I see. That’s going to involve a whole other investigation.” He stood, and I was relieved he planned to leave. “I hope you two pass. The penalties include jail time. I’m sure Mr. Sloane wouldn’t want to risk his life’s work simply to help you stay in the country.”
He made me feel unimportant. “My husband would crawl over broken glass for me, Mr. Bigalow. We love each other.”
He shrugged. “I’ll guess we’ll find out.”
When he left, I sat in the conference room, my entire body shaking. What were Will and I doing? If we couldn’t pull this off, I’d be deported and he’d go to jail. Hell, maybe I’d end up in jail too.
I finally pulled my wits together and returned to my desk. I shut down my computer and packed my bag to leave the office. When I arrived at Will’s place, he was already there, enjoying a drink on his terrace even though it was pretty cold outside.
He looked at me and his brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Bigalow, the immigration officer, stopped by to see me today.”
His jaw tensed. “And?”
“And I let slip that I’d gotten married.”
“Did he buy it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. He says they’ll be another investigation. Will, do you really want to risk jail time?”
“No, but at this point, we’re in it, aren’t we?”
“I could just return to Canada and it will be done.” My heart ached at that idea.
“Is that what you want?”
I shook my head. “No, but I don’t want you to go to jail either.”
He inhaled a breath. “Let’s have some dinner, and we can figure this out.”
He grilled some sort of meat, but by the time it was served, I couldn’t be sure what it was. Clearly, cooking wasn’t one of his attributes. If we continued this marriage, I’d take on the cooking responsibilities. I wasn’t Martha Stewart, but I could put together a meal in which all the items were recognizable and edible.
“I think we need to assume that we might be monitored,” he said as we sat at the table. “We can’t let down our guard.”
He said that like it would be hard, but I could easily play happily married. Yes, he was a little uptight, but he was sweet and generous, and sexy as all get-out. He was also risking so much. Too much. I needed to make this situation as painless for him as possible.
“In this day and age, there are cameras everywhere,” he continued on. “Messages and calls can be recorded. Everything we do needs to show we’re married.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He let out a breath. “At home, we can relax some.”
“I won’t get in your way here,” I said. It was bad enough he was risking his freedom; I didn’t want to make him feel stifled at home.
He let out a breath, as if he was about to say something I wouldn’t like. “As much as we need to act married to the outside world, I think we need to refrain from marital activities at home.”
Like with Mr. Bigalow, I worked hard to avoid showing any emotion. It was hard, because the only thing I could think of was that he didn’t like sex with me.
“Okay. What happens in Vegas …”
He reached out and took my hand. “Adalyn, it’s not that I wouldn’t want to. But … we’re on a tightrope here. We need to stay focused, and …”
“And what?”
“We need to make sure we don’t blur the lines.”
I frowned. What did that mean?
He cursed and shook his head. “I’m not explaining this right.” He blew out a breath. “This is basically a fake marriage. When it’s said and done, we’ll go our own ways. Sex can complicate things.”
“Yes, of course.” He didn’t want me to fall for him, I realized. He’d told me he was a commitment-phobe, so I shouldn’t be surprised by this. “You said it could be three years. Can you go without that long?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
I stared at him.
“Can’t you?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, even though in my head I was saying, “Why would I want to go that long?” I’d have to invest in a vibrator or something. I squeezed his hand to reassure him. “You’re taking a big risk for me, Will. Whatever I need to do to make it easier for you, I’ll do it. If I have to tell you no when you come wanting this,” I made a motion to my body, “I’ll tell you no.”
He laughed and looked relieved. “I’m sure I’ll regret this decision. I’m glad you’re a stronger person that I am.”
I gave him a satisfied smirk, but the truth was, if he wanted to touch me again, I’d let him. Of course, I would.
After dinner, we did the dishes and then watched some TV. Eventually, he went to his home office saying he had a little work to do. I decided that was a good time to go to bed.
I lay in my guest room, wondering what the hell I’d gotten us into. It was like I’d turned my world upside down. While my work was important on this project, I wasn’t so essential that Will should risk his business and freedom for me. Why was he doing this? It clearly wasn’t because he was into me and wanted to keep me close. His no-touch rule proved that. So why was he willing to risk so much for me?
I wondered if my father had hired him for something. Would Will marry me as part of his duty to my father? The idea of that both saddened and angered me.
I punched my pillow down and cursed the fact that the slogan in Vegas wasn’t true at all. What I’d done in Vegas had followed me home and threatened everything in my life. What I needed to do was to call Mr. Bigalow and tell him the truth and let him deport me. Or maybe I needed to simply buy a plane ticket to Quebec and head home. The weight of what we were doing was too much to carry. Not just for me, but for Will too. I could see the strain of it on his face. The tension he carried in his shoulders.
My phone beeped on my bedside table. I picked it up and saw a text from Will. Good God, he was so anti-touch that he couldn’t even come to my room.
I looked at the text.
We should frame this.
I scrolled down to see a picture. It was Will and me grinning like drunken loons in the Vegas chapel. It was our wedding day. Had we paid for the photo package too?
I can put it on my desk, I texted back.
There was a pause and I thought he wouldn’t reply. But then my phone beeped.
You were a beautiful bride.
I stared at the text wondering, “What the hell?” Will was such a confusing man. When he said things like that, it seemed like he was into me. But a couple of hours ago he was saying he didn’t want to blur the lines. This was a fake marriage. Then I remembered his saying that our messages could be used in my immigration investigation. Was this his attempt to create a record that made it look like we were married? If so, he was right about the blurred lines thing, because my heart had immediately wanted to read something into the message.
It was a magical night, I texted back.
If this was a show for potential government investigators, it seemed like we should say we loved each other. But Will didn’t respond and if questioned, I’d just say he came to bed then and ravished my body. If only.
I put my phone down on the bedside table and nestled into bed. Un
fortunately, my mind continued to run a loop of all the things that could go wrong in our little farce, including the risk of my blurring the lines and falling for my husband.
Book 4: Chapter 14—Put To the Test
Put To the Test
Will — Friday
I had a hell of a time sleeping last night. It was so strange to have a woman in my home for more than a single sleepover. Even with Karen, she never stayed the night. Granted, Adalyn wasn’t in my bed, but that made the whole situation even weirder. We were married, but I’d relegated her to the guest room. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to touch her. God knew I did, and that was the problem. I couldn’t afford to let emotions get involved. This marriage wasn’t real. When it was done, she’d be off traveling or doing whatever her heart desired. I’d be back to living my own boring life. Or, what was boring to her. I liked my life all right. I’d certainly learned my lesson about throwing caution to the wind with this accidental marriage fiasco.
When I finally fell asleep, Adalyn showed up in my dreams. Her luscious body was naked, tempting mine. I’d failed in trying to avoid her, taking her in my sleep. I woke with the hard-on to end all morning hard-ons. For a moment, I considered going to her room and asking her to help me with it. Instead, I got into the shower and dealt with it there. This was going to be a fucking long marriage.
When I got to work, there was a card and present on my desk from my immediate staff. They’d been shocked to learn about my marriage, but seemed to buy it.
“I knew there was something between you two,” my secretary had said. “I have an eye for these things.”
I wondered how the people at CTS were dealing with the news. Was Adalyn getting any flack for being with her boss? I knew that her team had a meeting on Friday afternoons. Normally I didn’t go, but perhaps I’d stop by today. I wondered if that would make it worse for her? Then again, it could be argued that I’d stayed away so as not to giveaway our relationship, but now that our relationship was out, it would be strange not to go. Christ, lying was so hard.
“Mr. Sloane?” my secretary peeked her head in my door.
