A Marriage of Anything but Convenience
Page 1
A Marriage of Anything But Convenience
Victorine E. Lieske
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
A Case of Extreme Mistaken Identity
Chapter 1
Newsletter
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 by Victorine E. Lieske
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Victorine E. Lieske
P.O.Box 493
Scottsbluff, NE 69363-0493
www.victorinelieske.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Nara slumped down into the cushy leather seat on the private jet and stared out the window at the freedom that would soon be ripped from her. The New York city skyline could be seen if she leaned down far enough. Her home for the last seven years. And now, her home no more.
It was stupid, really. She was being forced to marry because her father had some crazy obsession with eastern culture and thought that an arranged marriage would be best for both her and his multi-billion-dollar tech company. At least, that’s the closest she could come up with for a reason why her father would insist on this crazy idea.
Who was she supposed to marry? His Imperial Highness, Emperor Derek Marshall, of all people. To be truthful, Derek wasn’t actually an emperor of anything. She just liked to call him that because he was self-absorbed, kind of stiff, and it annoyed the heck out of him. Really, that last one was the best reason.
Where was His Majesty right now? Nara frowned as she clicked her seatbelt. Derek couldn’t be bothered with anything as lowly as coming to pick up his bride. No, he was back in California, probably working on some big deal for her father. Derek was his strategic assistant, and the man her father hoped to turn the company over to one day.
Of course, she had refused the ridiculous idea of marrying Derek five years ago when her father first brought it up. No matter what might still be common in Japan, she wasn’t Japanese. Okay, she did have a Japanese name, and she did have black hair, but that was it. She had no Japanese blood. Her father was an aging, white American. And her mother, though not in the picture anymore, had also been Caucasian.
Where her father got the idea that marrying Derek was her destiny, she had no idea. Being stubborn had worked for the last five years, but her father was not to be deterred, and this summer he pulled out the big guns. First, he’d stopped paying her rent. That hurt, but she was still determined to make it work. Then he’d threatened to take away the one thing in this world Nara couldn’t lose. And that’s when she crumbled and finally said yes to the stupidity. (That, and the eviction notice on her door.) She would marry, and stay married, for two years. And if, after that, she couldn’t stand the stuffy Emperor any longer, her father would let her get a quiet divorce and move on with her life.
She fished around in her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. Chelsea, the president of the fashion company she had worked for in New York, had agreed to look at her designs if she continued to send them long distance. No promises, as usual, but Nara was certain someday she’d have her own fashion line. As of yet, she’d only managed to work as an administrative assistant at AVA Designs. But, man, she got coffee like a ninja warrior, so she felt she had earned a chance to climb higher.
Drawing always helped calm her. She pulled out her favorite pencil and started on a new design idea she’s had mulling around in the back of her brain. It was a dress with a high waistline and flowing skirt. Her pencil flew across the paper as the design emerged.
The flight attendant walked up to her. “Would you like something to drink? We have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite…”
“No, thank you,” Nara said quickly. The Diet Coke was calling to her, but since it was the new year, she’d decided she needed to cut down on her daily consumption. When your blood test came back carbonated, it was time to rethink your life choices.
“Then, perhaps a snack?” The woman handed her a snack menu. “Look this over and let me know if you want anything.”
“Thanks, I’m fine,” Nara said, handing it back. She didn’t need her father’s pampering. She’d packed a few granola bars. She’d be fine.
By the time the plane landed in L.A. she had filled up half of her sketchbook. She’d finished the dress, but that inspired more designs. Flared skirts. Blouses with collars. Blazers. Most of them were solid designs. She couldn’t wait to send them to Chelsea.
She packed up her art supplies and waited for the go-ahead to exit the plane. In protest of this massive injustice, she had worn her most unflattering yoga pants, her orange flip flops, and an old t-shirt that read, “I see the assassins have failed.” She gripped her bag and stepped onto the staircase.
As she descended the stairs, she spied her father standing a few feet away. It had only been three years since she’d seen him, but he seemed to have aged even more since then. His hair was definitely more grey than black, and he had lines around his eyes she had never noticed before. They were prominent, even with his glasses on. Had he lost weight, too?
And then her gaze landed on Derek. Something about him was different, but she couldn’t quite figure it out. Maybe it was the sunglasses he wore, or the way his suit filled out, or the combination that made him look like one of the guys from Men in Black. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stop staring. Unfortunately, she stared so hard that she missed the last step and fell unceremoniously to the cement, doing a great impression of a pancake.
She scrambled to her feet in the hopes that no one noticed, which was idiotic, because there was no one else around to look at, and both men were facing her. Oh, well. She wasn’t needing to make an elegant appearance anyway. She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and straightened her t-shirt so she could be sure her father would read it. She took the twelve steps to him. “Hey, pops.”
Her father winced, and she held in a small smile of satisfaction. Mr. Richard Claymore hated it when she called him that, which is exactly why she did it. “Hello, Nara,” he said, putting his hands behind his back.
“And look who decided to grace us with his presence. It’s the Emperor himself.” She bowed low for extra snarkiness.
Her father gasped. “Nara, please.”
Derek’s jaw clenched showing his disapproval, but because he was mostly made of cold stone, that’s all she got out of him. He took off his sunglasses. “Nara,” he said, his mask of indifference carefully in place.
She looked between them for a mome
nt, waiting for someone to speak. When no one did, she folded her arms. “Well, this has been fun. Where’s my car?”
Her father frowned at her. “We’ll be taking my limousine to the Accelerated Marriage Chapel.”
The blood rushed from Nara’s face as the word ‘chapel’ filtered into her brain. “What? We’re going to get married now?” She looked down at her t-shirt with the pit stains, and her slightly-too-big yoga pants and regretted her morning’s decisions.
“I’d like to get everything taken care of today. We have the possibility of a merger coming, and I want to get things settled quickly.” Her father pivoted and began walking, effectively cutting off the conversation.
Nara turned to Derek in the hopes that he had a little more sense in his brain. “Why are you agreeing to this?”
He hooked his sunglasses on the breast pocket of his suit. His gaze slid over her. Something in his countenance changed, but she wasn’t sure what it was. A softening of his features, maybe? Or maybe his blue eyes were just reflecting the sun and blinding her. That could be it, right? Because His Imperial Majesty couldn’t be soft about anything. “It’s what your father wants.”
“And so, you’ll just do it? Just like that?”
He held out his arm a bit awkwardly, as if to motion for her to start walking toward the limo. When she didn’t move, he sighed and said, “Yes. I do what your father asks. It’s my job.”
Nara tried not to let that statement hurt her self-esteem. “It’s your job to marry me? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Can we talk about this later?” He shifted his feet and she could tell he was getting anxious to join her father.
Nara huffed. Her resolve to begin healthier drinking habits crumbled. She needed a Diet Coke, like, pronto. “All right, fine. I know I have to do this thing. Might as well get it over with. But just so you know, this is a marriage on paper only. I’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom. You can keep your manly urges to yourself.”
Did the emperor smile at that statement? She couldn’t quite tell, because she had already turned to follow her father, but she thought she saw a slight upturn of his lips through the corner of her eye. Huh. She must be mistaken, because she could count the times on one hand when she’d seen him actually smile.
“Do you know if there’s any Diet Coke in the car?”
“I brought one for you.”
Stunned, she stopped short and turned. Derek ran smack into her. He grabbed her around the waist as she flailed, trying not to fall again. “Whoa. Sorry. I didn’t think you’d stop like that.”
An odd sensation skittered over her skin as she stood there, Derek holding her. Had she ever been this close to him? She wasn’t sure. She clung to him, and it was like clinging to a bull. He was all muscle. And he must have had on some expensive cologne, because he smelled like an ocean breeze had taken a bath in musk.
She gasped and broke free from him, stumbling back. “Sorry. I was just surprised. I’m having a Diet Coke emergency.”
He didn’t respond, and she continued on to the limo. The driver opened the door for her and she climbed in, sitting opposite from her father. When Derek slid in beside her, she didn’t complain. He was giving her Diet Coke, after all.
He reached under the seat and produced her life-saving nectar. “Here you go.”
She took the 12 oz. bottle of heaven from him. It was ice cold. She opened the lid and tipped it to her lips. It was the best thing she’d tasted in the last two days. Guess she could cross off that New Year’s resolution.
She drank half the bottle, then wrapped her hands around it. The cold felt good on the palms of her hands. They kind of stung from her pancake incident.
As they drove, Derek leaned over and whispered. “You have dirt on your chin.”
Oh, that was just great. As if she wasn’t already a super slob today. She licked her finger and rubbed her chin. Not that she would do that normally, but she thought it would annoy her father and possibly gross out the Emperor, a double win. “Did I get it?”
“No.”
She repeated the licking and the rubbing. “There?”
Derek pressed his lips together. Ha, she had successfully upset him. He shook his head. “Try again.”
“Third time’s a charm.” But after another cat-like bath, he still shook his head.
“Let me,” he said. He reached out, his thumb grazing her chin.
An electrical current shot through her where his skin came in contact with her. It felt like someone took physical attraction and hooked it up to a power line. Her skin tingled all over and she jumped back. What in the world? She stared at Derek. What had just happened?
“Okay, I got it,” he said, ignoring her shocked reaction.
She nodded and sat back in the seat, her heart pounding. That was odd. When had she ever reacted to Derek like that? She tried to think of a time when he’d actually touched her in the past, but her mind came up blank. She’d known him as a kid, they even played hide and seek together in her father’s office building late at night. Surely she had grabbed his hand or something in the past. How odd she would start reacting to him now, of all times.
Thirty minutes later they pulled up in front of a church-like building, the words Accelerated Marriage Chapel lit up on a neon sign. Of course, it wasn’t an actual church. No one went there to worship. They only went there to be saved from deportation, or to make a rash decision they would regret for the rest of their lives.
Nara left her art supplies in the limo and climbed out. She clapped her hands, then regretted it as her palms stung. She winced. “Let’s do this thing.”
Derek studied her. “Are you all right?”
What, now he was concerned about if she wanted to get married or not? Sheesh, what a time to pick to turn on his ‘give a crap’ meter. “I’m fine,” she said, craning her neck to see her father just inside the door talking to someone.
“You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”
She squinted at him. “Why do you suddenly care?”
He frowned. “I know you think me heartless, but I do care about what you want.”
“Well, I just want to get this done and over with so I can have what my grandmother left for me.”
“Your grandmother left you an inheritance?”
She shifted her weight. It wasn’t really an inheritance. It was the one object from her grandmother’s estate that she wanted. The only thing that had any value to her. She tried to think of a better way to say it, but when none came, she just nodded. “Yeah. And pops said he’d give it to me if I did this thing. So, let’s get to it.”
“Are you sure?”
She huffed. “Shut up before I change my mind. We’re getting married and that’s final.”
Man, this day was getting stranger and stranger. When had she ever thought those words would come out of her mouth?
Chapter 2
Derek ducked inside the chapel, following after Nara. It was the kind of unique building he might photograph under different circumstances. But not today. He didn’t want photographic evidence of what was happening today.
Guilt rose in his throat, and he coughed into his fist. This was all his fault. Him, and his stupid rambling that one late night at the office, five years ago. But he couldn’t back out of it now because Mr. Claymore was so set on everything. He was determined to see the two of them married. And once Mr. Claymore got something in his mind, not the devil himself would be successful at making him change it.
Nara fidgeted, smoothing down her t-shirt. She stared at her flip flops, looking uncomfortable.
He stepped toward the woman behind the front desk. “Do you have a wedding dress we can rent?”
Nara’s head snapped up. “I don’t need a dress.”
“Yes, she’s fine how she is,” Mr. Claymore said.
The guilt inside Derek grew. Today Nara was going to get married. Didn’t girls dream of their weddings, planning and primping, think
ing of their dresses and flowers and stuff? She wouldn’t want to get married in her travel clothes, would she?
The woman behind the desk shook her head. “We don’t have dresses. Sorry.” She handed Mr. Claymore a clipboard. “We’ll need to see the happy couple’s ID’s, and they will need to sign these papers.”
The paperwork took ten minutes. Then Derek found himself standing at the front of the chapel facing Nara. He felt like he towered over her. She’d always been short, but as kids he hadn’t cared that much. When he hit puberty and experienced a sudden growth spurt it left him feeling gangly and awkward around her. At least he had more muscles now.
She pulled a band out of her pocket and tugged her hair up into some kind of half-ponytail, half bun looking thing. Hair stuck up from it, like he was sure she wanted. This was just another silent protest against what her father was asking her to do. It actually made her look adorable, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He’d get kicked in the shin.
The minister said a few things that sounded flowery but well-rehearsed, and then he paused and looked at them. “Have you prepared special vows for each other?”
“No,” he and Nara said at the same time.
“That’s not a problem. For another twenty dollars you can choose from several custom vows, or we can go ahead with the simple package.”
Sweat beaded up on Derek’s forehead. He hated making decisions like this. What did Nara want? He glanced at her and she gave him a withering look. “Let’s go with the simple package.”