by Maya Blake
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t mean to... It’s just that you speak CEO all the time.’
He lifted one eyebrow. ‘All the time?’
A fiery blush flashed into her cheeks at the blatant reference to their night together. Recollection surged into her mind, making her breath shorten. Unable to drag her gaze from his, she watched, fascinated, as his eyes turned dark and stormy. Despite the brightness of the room she suddenly felt as if they were cocooned in a dark, decadent piece of heaven.
Which was absolutely the last thing she needed to be thinking about now.
He seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. He blinked and gritted his jaw. ‘I’m all ears, Goldie. You grew up in a broken home, correct?’
She winced. ‘Eventually, yes.’
‘And your father? Is he in the picture?’
‘Long-distance.’
He pursed his lips. ‘Given the choice, is that what you wanted to happen when you were growing up?’
She closed her eyes. Swallowed. ‘Okay, you’ve made your point, but I still think we can make an alternative arrangement—’
‘No.’
She glared at him. ‘Let’s explore another option. Couples live together full-time without marrying. Why do we need to be married?’
‘You don’t think our child’s conception from a one-night affair is more than enough for it to have to deal with? You want to add to the long line of illegitimacy in his history? When you can prevent it? What have you got against marriage?’
‘I... Nothing. But that doesn’t mean I want to be knee-jerked into it.’
‘The welfare of our child should be nothing like a knee-jerk response. It should be everything to you.’
Her mouth dried at the enormity of what he was saying. While she’d been lost in dreamless sleep, it was clear Gael had spent hours thinking about the situation they found themselves in. He had a brilliant mind, but she didn’t think he’d put together this presentation on the fly.
Still, what he was suggesting was so...absolute.
‘Speak up, Goldie. What’s the problem?’
She laughed, unable to believe he was expecting an immediate answer from her on so monumental a subject. ‘If I decide to do this, I want a few stipulations of my own.’
His brow clamped in a frown. Then he gave a tight nod. ‘Let’s hear it.’
‘You...you can’t want to be saddled with me for the rest of our lives, nor I with you, so can we agree to a more temporary solution?’
He froze. ‘You want to enter marriage with a clause that ends it on a particular date?’
‘Please don’t make it sound so clinical. Until ten minutes ago you were a man who didn’t date the same woman for longer than six weeks! Now you expect me to believe you’re willing to give up the rest of your life?’
‘For the right reason—why not?’
The right reason. The baby. Not them.
‘I think you’re missing the point, Gael. You automatically assume that putting a ring on my finger will make this baby’s life stable. I’m not denying it will, but don’t you think he or she will be happier with parents who are content?’
‘Are you saying marrying me sentences you to a life of discontent?’
‘Don’t put words in my mouth. I just want us to take a step back, think about this—’
‘Five years.’
‘I... What?’
‘You want a fixed term? We’ll give it a try for five years. After that we’ll reassess the marriage. Whatever the outcome then, one thing will remain non-negotiable. We’ll live in the same city and do everything to provide a smooth home-life for our child. So—five years. Do you think you can give up your independence for that long?’ he bit out.
‘Gael—’
‘And in that time, provided you make our child’s happiness your number one priority, you will receive ten million dollars per year and five guaranteed box office smash movie roles courtesy of Atlas. You say your career is important to you? This way you can rest assured it will not be unduly interrupted.’
Shock held Goldie rigid for so long she wondered whether she was in danger of turning into a fossil. When she managed to speak again, her voice shook with effort. ‘And...and if I don’t agree to what you’re suggesting?’
Goldie was almost afraid to ask, because the purpose she’d sensed in him when he’d confronted her outside seemed to have magnified a thousandfold. She didn’t need to be a genius to work out that Gael had just given her the ‘either’ scenario. There was a very big ‘or’ coming her way.
‘If you don’t agree, then I’ll take steps to remove our child from you—completely—the moment he or she is born. I’m sorry, amante, this is too important for me to beat round the bush. So those are your only options. What’s it going to be, Goldie? Yes or no?’
* * *
Two days.
She’d argued for time to think about Gael’s proposal. He’d grudgingly given her the remainder of their time in South Africa.
So she had two days to come up with a different solution, one that didn’t involve marrying a man she barely knew, or fighting him in court for custody of their child. And so far, a day later and with twenty-four hours’ worth of filming a beach scene between Elena and Alfonso completed, she’d drawn a blank.
To fight Gael she needed far deeper pockets than she currently had. This was her first movie role, and the pay was more than she’d dreamed of, but it was nowhere near enough to take care of her child while fighting for its rights in a court of law—especially against a powerful man like Gael Aguilar. And part of her contract with Atlas involved exclusive work that might extend for almost half a year after filming, which meant that even if she wanted to be pounding the pavements on job-hunts while being heavily pregnant she couldn’t.
Which brought her to the option Gael preferred. Marriage.
Her heart caught every time she thought of that, but after a few times Goldie admitted that the idea wasn’t as stomach-clenching as it had first seemed.
Both their backgrounds had proved conclusively that coming from a broken home could damage a child. For the longest time Goldie had felt bitterness and anger towards her mother for not being strong enough, for pushing her father away and breaking up their family. And, although she loved and supported her mother now, she couldn’t help but feel bruised inside from the times when she’d lived in constant fear that her mother would never be strong enough to make the right decisions about the men she’d let emotionally abuse her.
In her darkest moments, Goldie had wondered whether she was potentially equally fallible. It was one of the reasons why she’d hung on to her virginity for so long. She’d been afraid to find out the depths of her strengths and weaknesses.
She didn’t plan on being alone for the rest of her life. And did she not owe it to her child to try and give it the best possible start in life? Even if it meant marriage, temporarily, to its father?
She didn’t know everything there was to know about Gael, but he’d laid the cards that were important to him on the table. The most commendable of which involved making their child’s wellbeing his number one priority. Despite the flipside being his threat to fight her for custody of their child, her rational and emotional sides felt satisfied that he was committed to his unborn child.
Enough to decide to turn his private life upside down for it within hours of finding out about its existence.
That quiet but powerful truth made her turn her head now to look at the man in question, who sat next to her as the helicopter flying them to Table Mountain soared over the breathtaking landscape.
The crew had left Umhlanga early this morning. Because of tourism restrictions, they had only a small window to shoot a scene on the mountain—which, ironically, was the scene in which Elena was proposed to by Alfonso.
A scene which ended with her saying yes, and then spending the rest of her fictional life fighting to save her marriage.
Dread whispered over her skin. As if he sensed her inner battle, Gael turned narrowed hazel eyes on her. He watched her silently for a few seconds before he reached across the bench seat to take her hand.
The action was unexpected, throwing her thoughts and emotions further into conflict. Provided she kept their child as their main focus, could they make a go of a five-year emotionless marriage? Because she wasn’t about to delude herself into thinking there were any emotions involved here. Gael was acting purely on a primal instinct to protect what was his. Much as he would in a business venture.
Whereas she...
Goldie stopped her chaotic thoughts as the helicopter landed. She honestly didn’t know what she felt. All she knew was the pledge she’d made to protect her child.
So, although she didn’t attempt to remove her hand from Gael’s once they alighted and were seen into the cable car that would take them to the top of the mountain, she turned her thoughts to work and the scene in front of her.
The view from the top was unlike anything Goldie had ever seen. Enough to rob her of breath for a full minute. Enough to make her feel like a small cog in the great, unrelenting circle of life. Enough to lend her the gravity she needed to utter her lines in a way that saw the scene completed in one continuous take and Ethan give yet another pleased fist-pump the moment he yelled, ‘Cut!’ But while the crew celebrated she moved off to a quiet corner of the section of the plateau, her thoughts turning inward as she drank in the spectacular view of Cape Town and the ocean beyond.
She sensed Gael before his body heat arrived behind her. Strong arms bared to the African sun came around either side of her to rest on the railing.
‘Do you really need another day to think about this, cara? You know deep inside what needs to be done, Goldie,’ he rasped in her ear.
‘Do I?’
‘Sí, you do. Don’t drag this out unnecessarily.’
‘I don’t want to. But...marriage...’
He moved closer, his body caging her in tighter. She angled her head, looked up at him. Eagle-sharp eyes stared down at her, their focus unwavering.
‘Don’t overthink it or confuse the issue. We’re not fictional characters. We can have a marriage without the melodramatic chaos.’
She gave a tiny anxiety-filled laugh. ‘How can you be so certain?’
‘Because we don’t believe in the fairy tale. We’re going into this with our eyes wide open. There is only one purpose here. We’re doing this for the sake of our child. For the chance to give it the stability we were both denied. Say yes, Goldie. You stand to gain far more than you stand to lose.’
His voice was hard, almost merciless.
She swallowed hard. Slid her hands over her flat stomach, her thoughts churning.
Gael’s hand sliding over hers, warming her hands, cradling their child, alarmed her almost as much as it settled her. He was claiming. But he was also protecting.
She would deal with the former if it threatened her at any point. The latter, she couldn’t fault.
Taking a deep breath, affirming her pledge, she gave her answer. ‘Yes.’
CHAPTER TEN
THEY LANDED IN SPAIN three days later. Once she’d given her answer things had moved at lightning speed. Papers had been drawn up, witnessed and signed, granting her unimaginable wealth and the type of acting roles that should have made her ecstatic but instead had left a faintly bitter taste in her mouth.
Somewhere along the line Gael had managed to weave her into agreeing to attend his brother’s wedding. If she recalled correctly, his answer when she’d expressed reservations at attending had been a tightly voiced, ‘You’re about to become my wife. Who else am I supposed to go with?’
The suggestion that perhaps he might go alone had been met with a frown and a firm refusal.
‘You will have to meet my family, as dysfunctional as they are, at some point. Best to get it over and done with. Besides, for once I would like to enjoy an event without Kenzo Ishikawa getting on my case about my marital status.’
‘Kenzo Ishikawa...one of your business partners?’
He’d snorted, his jaw going tight before he’d replied. ‘He seems to take pleasure in pointing out that I’m less of a man because I’m unattached. Our first attempt at a merger fell apart partly because of it.’
‘And this is your chance to rub your attachment in his face?’ Goldie hadn’t been sure whether to be offended or amused. She’d chosen to be neither.
But Gael had sent her a tight smile. ‘Exactly so. There is also the added bonus of beating Andro in the nuptials stakes, even if only by a few days,’ he’d added with surprising relish, before absenting himself from her presence.
Now, Goldie rose from the lounger and padded to the edge of the Olympic-sized pool.
Before that wedding happened there was the small matter of her wedding. Special licences had been arranged. Ethan had agreed to shoot a few of the scenes that didn’t involve her, then give the whole cast and crew a four-day break before they resumed filming again at the end of next week. And Gael was having her mother and Patience flown over tomorrow, for the wedding that would take place here on his estate just outside Barcelona.
The place was quintessential Spanish architecture at its best. A rambling two-storey villa, the property sat in the middle of acres of rich green valley dotted with orange and lemon trees. The villa itself, originally a Catalan manor house, modernised and extended, was made of stone, with grand arches and a vast courtyard decorated with trellises and carefully groomed vines. The house was stunning and yet homely—a place she wouldn’t have immediately associated with Gael Aguilar, the ruthless and ambitious CEO who wrote computer code as a hobby.
But then a few things were beginning to surprise her about Gael—not least being this marriage he was hell-bent on in order to protect his unborn child.
In the last twenty-four hours private doctors had visited her, taken blood samples and delivered enough pre-natal advice and vitamins to stun a horse. It was too early for an ultrasound scan, but Gael had readily agreed to a suggestion to listen to the baby’s heartbeat on a foetal Doppler. The loud sound echoing through the guest bedroom where she slept had brought a look of almost shocking determination to his face.
It was that determination that strengthened her belief that she was doing the right thing too.
So when Gael’s housekeeper walked out a few minutes later, to announce the arrival of the stylists and the gown designer contracted to ready her for her wedding, she took a deep breath, turned around and headed for her destiny.
* * *
Goldie climbed the small hill towards the tiny chapel that sat half a mile from the villa. A tiny part of her was glad for her mother’s fussing around her, because it took her mind off what was waiting for her beneath the ancient steeple. She also knew it was her mother’s way of accepting what was happening.
Despite Goldie’s reassurances that she was doing the right thing, her mother had voiced her worry from the moment she’d landed. Eventually she’d accepted Goldie’s assurances, but it hadn’t taken away the veil of concern in her mother’s eyes.
Goldie’s worry as to whether that concern might trigger a deeper reaction in her mother had been allayed by Patience, and the companion’s brief but buoying report of her mother’s progress had settled Goldie’s own anxiety.
So she let her mother fuss now, because it meant she didn’t have to do any fussing. She hadn’t seen Gael in the past twenty-four hours—a surprising turn-up since she hadn’t expected him to observe tradition. In his absence, questions had loomed—one in particular taking up most of her thoughts.
It was the question of sex—horrifyingly triggered by her mother’s observation
of the vast amounts of bedrooms in Gael’s villa and how she was looking forward to seeing it filled with grandchildren.
Of course that had also brought on the question of how much of their agreement they would be sharing with others.
All those questions beat hard like butterflies’ wings in her belly as she reached the doorway of the chapel. Technically, her mother was to walk her down the aisle, but Gloria wanted to walk a step behind, her hoarse insistence that this was Goldie’s day, not to be spoiled by a mother who’d let her down, having brought tears to her eyes.
There’d been no time to utter words of comfort, or to take in her mother’s new, more hopeful outlook on life, but something had settled in Goldie’s heart upon seeing her mother again. For now, though, she needed to head up the aisle and join her life with Gael Aguilar’s.
The man in question turned his tall, imperious frame and speared her with a fierce, possessive look as she walked slowly up the aisle.
He was impeccably dressed in a dark navy suit and snow-white shirt, his hair tamed and gleaming beneath the dozens of candles glowing from the cast-iron holders that hung from the ceiling, and his magnificence seriously threatened her breathing.
As his gaze raked her body she derived quiet satisfaction from the fact that she’d chosen a dress she loved, which gave her a much needed boost of confidence. The short-sleeved, cream silk lace gown that framed her figure to end in a short train behind her prohibited long strides. She’d forgone a veil in favour of a tiny tiara that held her pinned up hair in place. She wore only light make-up, and simple pearl earrings belonging to her mother adorned her ears to complete the subtly elegant ensemble.
Halfway to the altar, with her eyesight better adjusted from the almost blinding sunlight to the candlelit interior, she caught a better glimpse of Gael’s face. And her breath caught.
Beneath the possessiveness, that hard look she’d never been able to fathom lurked in his eyes. A feeling of having been tried and found guilty for a crime she had no inkling of committing assailed her, causing her to stumble slightly.
