‘Thank you!’ She smiled up at the hairdresser.
The girl looked pleased. ‘I think Mr King will be very happy,’ she said shyly.
Addie took another quick glance at herself. Hopefully he would. She would soon find out.
* * *
Staring round the casino floor, Malachi felt a rush of satisfaction. The building had been derelict when he’d first seen it. Originally an opera house, it had been abandoned after a fire had damaged most of the stage, and then it had simply been left to decay. Only he had seen its potential. Not as an opera house. The capital city of Venezuela already had one of those. But as a casino.
It had taken six months just to clear the site and make it safe to work in. Another year to rebuild the interior and bring it up to modern health and safety standards. Then another five months painstakingly recreating the original gilded domed ceiling and setting up the casino floor.
His vision had been clear. No cool, contemporary chic. He had wanted old-style glamour. Gilt and glass and glitter. And it had been worth it, he thought triumphantly. It looked incredible: a gilded, show-stopping interior that mixed fin-de-siècle opulence with an unmistakable whiff of the forbidden and decadent.
And yet there was something that didn’t feel quite right. Some detail he had overlooked. Something was missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it...
The next moment his uncertainty was forgotten as yet another swathe of local VIPs stepped forward to offer their congratulations. Twenty minutes later, though, he was staring round the room again, the famous King smile in place, while his brain clicked through the evening’s schedule, looking for glitches.
Only there was nothing out of place. Frowning, he glanced up at one of the boxes he’d insisted be kept during the refurbishment, and caught a flash of red hair, a glimpse of long leg and felt his chest tighten.
Addie! She was here.
He was shocked by how happy that made him feel—happy then stunned as he realised that she had been what was missing. Abruptly his elation faded as the woman turned and waved excitedly at a friend in the crowd. It was not Addie. And her hair wasn’t even red. He must have been hallucinating! Seeing what he wanted to see.
His words echoed inside his head and he felt a momentary flicker of unease. Did he really want to see her that badly?
Eyes narrowing, he gazed across the room. There were so many beautiful women here tonight. Why was he obsessing over Addie when he could just pluck one of them out from the crowd?
Because he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted Addie.
His heart began to thump. But it was inevitable really, he reassured himself. He’d been spending so much time with her that he’d got used to having her around. And with her glorious red hair and beautiful curving body she was there for a very specific reason. To stand out—to be seen by his side. Together they would be the most dazzling, the most desired couple in the room.
He frowned. But where the hell was she?
And then he saw her.
And this time there could be no mistake.
She was standing at the top of the wide, curving staircase that led down to the main casino floor, the two bodyguards he had assigned to protect her on either side of her.
Caught beneath a pool of light, she looked beautiful. More than beautiful, he thought dazedly. She looked like a goddess. Her heels were black and high but her dress was dark red and short, with long sleeves. It clung to her curves as though she had been sewn into it.
But as she stared down into the crowded casino he felt her hesitation, saw the uncertainty in her eyes. He was moving even before he realised he was doing so—striding across the room and up the stairs.
She saw him just as he reached her side, her ruby and diamond earrings catching the light as she turned to greet him.
He stared at her, his heart in his throat. Up close, she looked even more stunning. Her long hair was swept up, revealing her slim neck and flawless face, and suddenly he couldn’t stand it any more. He had to touch her. More than touch—he wanted to lay claim to her.
Reaching out, he took her hand and drew her slowly towards him. ‘You look beautiful, sweetheart. I think you should keep these.’ Gently he touched her earrings. ‘And that dress looks divine on you.’
She smiled then, her uncertainty fading, and it was as though they were alone; around them the swarming mass of people melted away.
‘Thank you. I wasn’t sure about the length. But I think covering my arms balances out my legs.’
He nodded. He had no idea what she was talking about. Just looking at her was throwing him off balance. ‘I agree. Or I would if I knew what you meant.’
She pinched his hand. ‘There are rules, you know. About clothing.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Has this got something to do with the tie—?’
‘Malachi!’ She glanced nervously over her shoulder, her body twisting, and suddenly he was too jolted to breathe, let alone speak.
Cut low and draped at the back, whatever rules she had been talking about, that dress was breaking all of them. His eyes bumped down the curve of her spine, his blood thickening and slowing, his thoughts a heaving mass of yearning, unfocused desire.
Trying to bring order back to the chaotic disarray of his body and mind, he dragged his eyes away from the smooth, golden temptation of her bare skin and gestured at a passing waiter.
‘Here!’ Back in control once more, he handed her a fluted glass of champagne. ‘Let’s go and mingle. There are some people I want you to meet.’
* * *
The rest of the evening was a blur of people and names. Addie felt as if she was floating. Beside her, one of the bodyguards held up a protective arm as guests spilled past them and she glanced up at him dazedly.
Bodyguard! When had she become the sort of person who needed a bodyguard?
The thought made her head spin. But then it was spinning anyway. She was so nervous she had barely even registered the gorgeous over-the-top decor—in fact, she’d been aware of very little except the sidelong glances that had followed her and Malachi as they made their way around the room, his hand resting casually on her back.
‘They’re all looking at us,’ she’d whispered as he’d led her through the crowd.
‘They’re not,’ he had whispered back. ‘They’re looking at you.’
But of course they hadn’t been.
It was Malachi who was the object of their curious and admiring attention. He was the reason the hum of conversation tailed off. The reason men stood taller, waiters moved with even more swift efficiency and women—
She breathed in sharply. All the women were in his fan club, if the furtive, hungry expressions on their faces were anything to go by.
But of course they were. He was devastatingly handsome—and in a dinner jacket at his most desirable, with the stark contrast of black and white emphasising his flawless bone structure and restless grey eyes. Moreover, it was his night—his name on a thousand lips.
And she was the woman holding his arm. His wife.
Except that at no point had Malachi made that clear to anyone. Her heart began to pound. Just who was she supposed to be tonight? And was everyone else thinking the same thing?
Malachi stared across the casino floor, struggling to adjust his thoughts. Normally on an evening like this he would have been acting on autopilot: smiling, chatting, working the room. But tonight he just couldn’t seem to concentrate. Not with Addie so close to him, the bare skin of her back so soft and tempting. If only he could peel off that dress and see the rest of her—
She was so beautiful, so desirable. Every woman in the room wanted to be her and every man wanted her. But she was his wife.
His wife.
So why not tell the world?
He glanced around the room. Everywhere he looked there were couples. Men and women holding hands, looking up at one another in excitement, sharing their happiness. His chest felt tight; his mouth was suddenly dry. He wanted to touc
h Addie and hold her close. But deep down he knew that they had no future. No sex, however perfect, was enough to make a marriage happy or healthy. He knew that better than anyone.
They were standing beside the roulette table. Beside him, the casino manager, Edgar, was talking to the young male croupier.
Malachi nodded at them. ‘Are we busy?’
The croupier nodded. ‘Yes, sir. Very busy. Roulette is very popular with the ladies.’
Malachi grinned. ‘It always is.’
Beside him, Edgar cleared his throat. ‘Would you like to play, Mr King? Or maybe...’ Glancing past Malachi, the manager smiled politely at Addie, hesitated.
Malachi stared at her profile in silence, feeling her tension. He’d always known this moment would come: the moment when he would have to formally introduce Addie and he knew that she was waiting for his response. His chest felt tight. She was his wife, but he didn’t believe in happy-ever-after.
He met her gaze deliberately. ‘Addie, this is Edgar Baptista, my casino manager. Edgar, this is Miss Addie Farrell.’
Addie stared at him in silence as slowly the meaning behind his words filtered through her nerves. Miss Farrell. Not Mrs King. Not My wife.
‘They want you to spin the wheel.’
She gazed up at him through the confused tangle of misery and disappointment. ‘Spin the what?’
He gestured towards the roulette wheel. ‘It’s a tradition. It brings good luck to the house.’
‘I’m surprised you of all people believe in luck,’ she said lightly, pushing down the hurt in her chest. ‘You’ll be telling me next you believe in the tooth fairy.’
His eyes met hers: dark, mocking, compelling.
‘We have a saying in the casino, sweetheart. Luck is for losers. But it seems a little churlish to point that out right now.’
He smiled at her then—one of those devastating smiles that made her heart beat too fast.
‘Besides, everyone needs a bit of luck in their lives, don’t you think? For when the odds are really against them.’
Only of course the odds never were against Malachi. How could they be? He was the man who set them.
Finally the evening was over. As they left the casino photographers crowded onto the steps, calling out to Malachi, cameras flashing on every side as he replied with his usual sangfroid.
‘What do they want?’ she whispered.
‘They want to know who you are.’ His eyes were cool.
‘What did you tell them?’ She swallowed, trying to hide her longing.
‘I told them I wasn’t going to do their job for them.’
It was a good answer. Plausible and playful. And evasive. A perfect bluff, in fact.
Her heart was hammering so loudly it took her a moment to realise that the press were still shouting at them.
‘What are they saying now?’ she said dully as he slid his arm around her waist.
‘They want a photo.’ He smiled down at her.
‘Haven’t they got enough?’
‘They want a very particular kind of photo,’ he said softly and, pulling her firmly against him, he lowered his head and kissed her.
Light exploded around them, and despite herself Addie felt her stomach curl as he deepened the kiss to the roar of the photographers. It was over in a moment.
Lifting his head, he smiled at her lazily. ‘There. Now everyone’s happy!’
Except she wasn’t. Instead she felt restless, on edge—like a warrior getting ready for battle.
* * *
To Addie, the suite felt strangely still and quiet after the noise and drama of the casino.
Pulling loose his tie, Malachi walked slowly round her, studying her appraisingly, stopping behind her. Then, moving forward, he slowly began to stroke the back of her neck. ‘So. Did you enjoy yourself tonight?’
Addie nodded. She couldn’t run away from what had happened at the casino, but already her skin was tingling, her body leaning into his. ‘It was fun. I’m just sad it’s all over—’
Her pulse jerked as she felt his lips brush against her throat, and suddenly she was desperate for him to kiss her properly.
‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured, tipping her head back, his mouth teasing hers. ‘The fun’s only just beginning...’
* * *
Staring up at the moonlight, Malachi walked slowly across the rooftop terrace and sat down on a concrete bench. His face was impassive but his head was in turmoil. It had been a perfect evening. The casino had run like clockwork. All the VIPs had gone home happy. Everything had gone according to plan.
And Addie—she had played her part to perfection. She had been the most beautiful woman in the room. In that dark red dress she had been more intoxicating than a bottle of claret. All eyes had followed her around the room and having her beside him, her arm curled through his, had felt right. It had felt good.
His mouth twisted. Only that was the problem. He didn’t want it to feel good or right. Any more than he’d wanted to feel so out of control when he’d seen her with his father.
The truth was he didn’t want to feel anything at all.
A muscle tightenend in his jaw. He’d rather jump into a pool of sharks. It would certainly be less dangerous. Less painful. Although he knew he was probably alone in thinking that way.
His stomach tightened. But that was the point. He was alone. He always had been. And nothing and no one could change that fact. Especially not a woman who had traded sex for money.
‘Malachi—’
He turned.
Addie stepped forward, her face hesitant beneath the moonlight. ‘Is everything okay?’
He nodded. ‘Of course. I just needed some fresh air. Clear my head.’ He frowned. ‘You’re dressed!’
She was wearing jeans and his dress shirt. Her face was flushed.
‘I couldn’t find you. I thought maybe you’d gone downstairs. Then I remembered about the roof garden, so I thought I’d check up here first.’
He smiled. ‘I’m fine. I’m just a bit wired. It was a big night. Lots of things to get right.’
‘You did a good job.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a pity you can’t give yourself some kind of reward.’
He took her waist in both hands and pulled her towards him. ‘I did that earlier.’
She looked up at him, her eyes fixing on his face, her expression suddenly intent. ‘Is that what I am? A reward?’
He stared past her, her words trapping him against the concrete, panic rising up inside. What the hell had he done? All those years he’d held it together, had never said a word about his parents or his childhood to anyone. Then Addie came back into his life, with her questions and her concern and her soft blue eyes, and all those barriers he’d built between the world and himself had come crashing down. And this was the consequence. This assumption that she had some right to cross-examine him, to expect answers.
But it was going to stop now.
‘I like to think of you more as an asset.’ He met her gaze levelly. ‘Which reminds me—I’m flying down to Rio tomorrow. To look at a casino. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. It’s a beautiful city. Perhaps we could go to Buenos Aires and Santiago. Maybe even Acapulco.’
Addie gazed at him warily, trying to contain the chaos and confusion inside. Something was happening. Something she didn’t quite understand. He was inviting her to go away with him and yet his manner was strangely detached, careless almost.
It had been such a tough couple of days. His parents’ party had been horrible. But for the first time she had actually understood what had made Malachi the man he was. And afterwards he had needed her—not for sex, but for comfort and support. They had seemed so close.
Only now that closeness felt like an illusion, a trick of her senses, for all evening he had deliberately chosen not to acknowledge her as his wife. And now he was inviting her to go to Rio with him. Not even as his mistress but as an asset—
Her heart bumped against her ribs as though it wa
s warning her to stay quiet. But she couldn’t run away from this conversation. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened. ‘I’d love to go to all those places. But how does that fit in with our deal?’
There. She had said it. She watched his eyes narrow fractionally.
Malachi stared at her in silence.
Their deal! A thread of anger and frustration uncoiled like a snake in the pit of his stomach. He could see the tension in her face, the doubt and unease, and he knew what she wanted him to say. But he would never say it. He couldn’t.
His chest grew tight. He felt hard, cruel, knowing how much he was about to hurt her. But he couldn’t give her what she needed.
Meeting her gaze, he smiled at her coolly. ‘I’m not sure I understand the question, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed except our location.’
He watched her eyes widen.
‘I don’t care about the location—’ she began.
‘So it’s about the money?’ he said smoothly.
It was as though he had slapped her.
‘The money? No, it’s not about the money!’ she protested.
Her face was flushed and he could see a pulse beating at the base of her throat.
‘It’s about us.’
‘“Us”?’ he repeated softly.
‘Yes. Us. You and me. Doing a tour of South America. How does that work, Malachi?’
She stared at him defiantly, but he heard the catch in her voice.
‘I’m saying let’s go to Rio. And then we’ll take it from there. One day at a time.’
Her face shifted, softened. ‘So you want to try again? Properly, I mean?’
He felt his chest clench painfully at the question. The hope in her eyes took his breath away. For a moment it made him hope and believe that it could work. That maybe he could need her and love her and care about her as she cared about him.
And then, slowly his hope faded, his eyes slid past her to the spiral staircase leading back down to their suite and to escape. It was no good. He might have let Addie get close, closer than anyone ever had, but he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle caring or needing or loving. He’d tried for so many years with his parents and look where that had got him.
Claiming His Wedding Night Page 15
