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Tangled Chords

Page 7

by Brenda Barrett


  "That's a bit harsh, Kingsley," her mother snapped. "She is entitled to some help."

  "Stay out of this, Gloria," he growled. "You have no idea what that girl has done to the business, how much money she has cost us. We wanted that deal with the Cavendishes and they needed us; it was the perfect marriage."

  Farrah backed out of the office and stumbled to her suite of rooms. She grabbed a suitcase and picked up her phone to call Xavier. Her plan had backfired.

  Chapter Nine

  Xavier was at the warehouse with his friends, sitting in the band room. After the wedding they had ordered lunch and were sitting around and talking. Nobody seemed as if they wanted to leave.

  "What got into you?" Aaron asked him. He was in a meeting at work when he got the news. He was passing the warehouse and dropped by to hear for himself if it was true. "Seriously, Xavier? Marriage is such a big step. It can't be taken lightly."

  "And," Ruby pointed her chopsticks at Aaron, "this advice is coming from a man whose girlfriend got married before he met her and who wanted her to end it. So you should know that he knows how serious marriage is."

  Aaron frowned at Ruby. "That whole episode still hurts; do you have to be so sarcastic?"

  "Sorry," Ruby murmured. "Force of habit."

  "Was marriage really the only way to help her?" Jayce looked at Xavier suspiciously. "You love her, don't you?"

  "That's what I like about Jayce," Ruby said as she got up and stretched. "He gets to the point."

  Xavier frowned at Jayce and then looked around at his friends. "I have known her a long time."

  "And he loves her," Jayce said, sipping his water slowly. "How does she feel about you?"

  "She proposed. Hence, she must feel something," Logan piped in. "You know what I would like to know?"

  "What?" Xavier asked,

  "Did you sign a prenup?" Logan had his lawyer face on.

  "He doesn't have to; she is Farrah Knight." Jayce snorted. "She is not after his money."

  Alice chuckled. "She probably doesn't know that he's rotten rich."

  "Very interesting. You mean the rich girl married you thinking you were poor." Melody had her head on Logan's shoulder. She had also shown up almost at the same time as Aaron. "So where is Farrah now?"

  Xavier's phone rang at that moment and everybody turned silent. He looked at the screen. The number was Farrah's.

  He answered hesitantly. Everybody was watching him intently.

  "Xavier," Farrah said, a sob hitching in her voice. "Can you come pick me up?"

  "Sure," Xavier said calmly. "What's going on?"

  "My father just kicked me out," Farrah said forlornly. "I called his bluff and I lost."

  He hung up the phone and stood up. "I am going to pick up my wife from her parents' house."

  "Are you kidding me?" Ian laughed. "Where are you going to take her?"

  Xavier shrugged. "To my home. Where else?"

  "To the house in the bushes?" Carson said, shaking his head. "She'll think you are destitute."

  A light appeared in Xavier's eyes. "So? What's wrong with that?"

  Ruby laughed. "I like that. It's actually romantic. You and your long-lost love in a little cottage overlooking the sea, living on love."

  Carson snorted. "I don't like that, not if he gets hurt. You are not actually going to consummate this marriage, are you? If you don't, you can get a simple annulment when she is done teaching her father a lesson. Don't complicate things."

  "I would complicate things if I were you," Jayce chuckled, his big belly jiggling. "Farrah is a real beauty…bet he can't keep his hands to himself with her around."

  Xavier sighed. He had not allowed his mind to think about consummating their marriage—well, not since Farrah hastily pointed out that that would be a condition of their annulment.

  Now that Jayce mentioned it, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. He began to realize that he would have to demonstrate all his powers of self-control, living with her.

  "Bye guys. Carson, can I borrow old Betsy?" he said, referring to Carson's battered pickup truck.

  "Sure." Carson threw the keys at him and he caught them.

  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Logan guffawed.

  Xavier rolled his eyes. "You guys can be so immature when you are together. Nobody would believe that you are not sixth graders. By the way, nobody breathe a word about my finances to Farrah."

  "Our lips are sealed," Ruby said. "Teach the little rich girl a lesson. Carry her to the bushes and make a woman of her."

  Their laughter greeted his departure.

  *****

  "I am so sorry about this," Farrah said for the tenth time as Xavier helped her to place her last suitcase in the back of Carson's battered pickup truck. Xavier had borrowed the pickup to move his things from Carson's house last week. He had thought it would be handy for Farrah to move her things, too, and he was right. She had so many suitcases he was doubtful that they could fit inside his cottage.

  Kingsley and Gloria Knight stood at the doorway. Gloria looked pleased. She waved at Xavier, but Kingsley had a sneer on his face.

  When Farrah got into the car, he moved closer to them. "Farrah, you are being ridiculous. Get back inside! We can have this whole marriage thing dissolved in no time. Then you can marry Jason in December, as previously planned."

  "No Dad," Farrah said, a note of finality in her voice.

  "Do you really think that this guy who was born in the slums can afford to keep you? You don't have any skill yourself. You are not going to have access to my credit cards because I am going to cut you off."

  "I don't care," Farrah said forcefully. "Xavier is my friend. He has been my friend forever. At least he listens to me. Even when I was little and had nobody in this entire household to care about me."

  "Stop being stubborn," Kingsley hissed. "You don't want to cross me, Farrah. I will make things difficult for your friend here in this town. I know most of the business operators around these parts."

  Xavier shook his head. He was leaning on the driver's side of the vehicle and watching the dynamics between Farrah and her father. "I doubt that you could make trouble for me, Mr. Knight. I don't really have a job now."

  "He doesn't have a job!" Kingsley blanched. "He's unemployed. What are you two going to live on?" He stepped back from the truck. "It seems as if you'll be back home faster than I thought."

  Farrah slammed the pick up door harder than was warranted. "I am not coming back here ever again."

  "Don't say that, dear," Gloria stood beside her husband and linked her hand in his. "Never say never. We still love you." She was looking surprisingly relaxed beside her husband, who was bristling with unconcealed anger.

  When Xavier drove away Farrah looked back at the mansion as it disappeared from sight. She felt a sense of panic overtake her. What was she going to do? Xavier's truck dropped into a pothole and she almost bumped her head on the roof of the vehicle.

  What have I done? She wondered, panic finally overtaking her. What have I done? It had just sunk into her subconscious that she had defied her father, had moved out of her family home, and was leaving behind all that she held dear and heading into an unknown future with a guy who she barely knew anymore. Not just a guy, but also her husband.

  Xavier looked over at her. "It's not so bad. I do have a photography hobby, you know. It might turn into a business, and I have the band, though we aren't really paid, and I live on a large piece of land. We can consider farming."

  Farrah winced. Photography, band, farming. In other words, nothing concrete. She had just given up her financially secure future and sealed her lot with photography, band work, and farming.

  She looked at Xavier. He had not changed from his jacket suit. He had loosened his tie, though, and she could see the exposed column of his throat. He looked handsome and self-assured. He certainly didn't look like an unemployed person from the slums.

  "I really don't know anything of what you've been up to fo
r the last eight years," she said. "I remember you asked me to come to the States with you."

  Xavier nodded. "I went two weeks after you rebuffed me. Presented my computer idea to a company. They liked it."

  "Oh... okay," Farrah said. She was afraid to ask so why was he so poor now so instead she asked, "So why didn't you stick to that field?"

  "I wanted a break." Xavier glanced at her to ascertain how badly she was taking her leave from the lap of luxury, because he knew that the cottage was a far cry from what Farrah was used to.

  It was basic and rustic and would certainly be a culture shock. Her face was flushed now, probably from the fight she just had with her father, as well as the heat. The afternoon sun was streaming into the vehicle and it emphasized her brown eyes. They had a darker brown ring surrounding her irises, like milk chocolate encased with a darker blend. He dragged his eyes back to the road. He was getting fanciful—eyes like chocolate; how cliché was that?

  He struggled to remember the conversation they were having. "I got a lovely piece of land out of it, though. So you won't be exactly living in the slums."

  Farrah swallowed, relief washing over her. She had no idea how an inner-city area even looked, and she had been dreading that they would indeed be heading to one of those areas.

  Xavier turned off the highway and headed into the hills of Reading. He slowed down as he crawled up a narrow driveway, and then they entered a clearing where a lone log house stood. Farrah couldn't process it. This was where Xavier lived?

  She looked over at him. "It's, er, rustic."

  Xavier grinned. "And peaceful." He got out of the truck, but Farrah sat there for a moment longer.

  She had really messed up big time with this marriage stunt. She bit her lip and considered how groveling to her father would feel. It would be terrible. She would never again have any self-respect after doing so.

  This was her lot in life now. This was where she would live. Once more she gazed at the house with trepidation. Xavier was her husband, at least for the time being. She just had to deal with it.

  Chapter Ten

  "I was going to use the second bedroom as an office," Xavier said as he opened the door to his log cabin. "So I didn't put a bed in there." He was watching her cautiously because she looked afraid. She had walked up to the house looking as if she was about to face the hangman's noose.

  Farrah pushed the door wider and jumped as a lizard brushed her hand as it scampered up the door ledge. She stepped inside and looked around the cabin cautiously.

  It wasn't so bad on the inside, except for that lizard. It was bright and cheery and had character. The whole cottage could fit in her bedroom suite at home, but she wasn't going to think about that. There was no way that she would give her father the satisfaction of admitting defeat by crawling back home.

  She would just have to make do with Xavier. It finally sank in that he had only one bed and she spun around with an appalled look on her face. The man oozed sex appeal and was the right amount of gorgeous to have her weak without even trying. There was no way she could share a bed with him and still get her annulment. It could get complicated and Xavier was, after all, doing her a favor. He was probably regretting helping her out already.

  She looked at the brightly colored sofas in the living room. "It's okay, I'll sleep on the sofa."

  Xavier nodded. "It's a sofa bed, too, and quite easy to maneuver. I'll show you later."

  "That's so ungallant," Farrah said, putting down her bag on the hardwood floor. "I thought you would say, 'No, no, Farrah. You take the bed. I'll take the sofa.'"

  "The sofa is too small for me," Xavier said. "Think of me as being gallantly practical."

  Farrah giggled. "Gallantly practical." She looked around. "The place is surprisingly airy and quaint. Not a bad purchase at all, Xavier."

  "Thanks," Xavier said. "I like it as well. The previous owners were artists. They sold it as-is. Let me give you a tour."

  He spun around in the center of the room. "Over there is the kitchen." He pointed to a small kitchenette. "This is the living room."

  He pointed to a brightly colored green door. "That's the bathroom. The door beside it is my bedroom, and that door is my future study."

  Farrah looked around and said dryly, "Very funny, Xavier, doing the tour while standing in one place."

  Xavier sat on the sofa. "So what's the plan?"

  Farrah sat across from him. "I don't know. I am kind of out of options right now. This might sound silly but I kind of thought that my father would have... I don't know—accepted that his plans were thwarted and then moved on. I even expected a reluctant respect that I had counter-plotted his move and came out triumphant. I thought I was being a true Knight. He kicked me out instead. You should have seen him; it was scary."

  Xavier looked at her. Her face was void of makeup and she was in a tracksuit that skimmed her curves, but she still managed to look sexy. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Her visit was going to be uncomfortable for him in more than one way. Farrah could always wage a war on his body and heart without even trying. He wondered how long this rebellion of hers would last. How long before she realized that she couldn't live without her usual luxuries? How long before she went crawling back to her father and married Jason Cavendish, as was dictated?

  He had to guard himself in the interim, because he could easily fall for her again. He saw himself in his mind's eye, eight years ago, like a naive fool waiting for her to love him. He wasn't going to wait around this time; he married her because he was programmed to respond to Farrah's distress calls.

  Whenever she turned her big brown eyes his way or even had a tinge of suffering, he usually came running. He had done it in the past and here he was in the present, like a chump, running to marry her—a sham marriage. If this were serious he would lay her down on the nearest horizontal surface and taste her velvety smooth skin...he stopped his thoughts from straying where it was not supposed to.

  He got up suddenly. He needed air. He needed to separate himself from her magnetic presence for a while and clear his mind and his nostrils from her particular brand of perfume.

  *****

  When Xavier left the house Farrah decided to look around. The second bedroom that he called the study had a large closet. She breathed a sigh of relief because she had a lot of clothes to put away and she had no idea where to put them. She had not packed with any aim. She had just entered her walk-in closet, grabbed what was closest to her, and crammed them into her suitcases. She really hoped that she had put practical clothes into her suitcases, because tears had blinded her at the time.

  She needed something to occupy her thoughts so she dragged her largest suitcase to the center of the room and started unpacking. She had no idea how long she would be here, or when Xavier would get tired of her and kick her out. She could always go to live with her sister.

  She paused while hanging up one of her skirt suits. She had unashamedly taken advantage of Xavier. There were a million and one options she could have used to avoid her father's draconian dictates, but she had chosen marriage to Xavier. She didn't want to examine why she had asked to marry him or why he had accepted. She heard the front door open and then Xavier's steps as he approached the door. He leaned on the doorjamb.

  He was looking at her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. His luxuriant black lashes screened his eyes and Farrah wondered why she hadn't noticed how thick they were before, or how long his lashes were. His shirt was out of his pants and unbuttoned, revealing his white undershirt. He looked ruffled and desirable—so desirable that her traitorous heart started to beat in an alarming staccato rhythm.

  His attention lingered on her soft, full mouth and then he made contact with her eyes again. Farrah found herself wondering idly how his lips would feel on her own. She had propositioned him when she was just twelve and she now wondered if he would say no, as he did then, if she asked him to kiss her.

  "Is pasta okay for dinner?" Xavier asked her in the charg
ed silence.

  Farrah shook her head. "I... er... what?"

  "Pasta," he said slowly.

  "Yes. Thanks," Farrah answered breathlessly.

  He looked at her strangely and then moved from the door.

  Farrah slumped into her pile of clothes in the suitcase. She was in trouble. Deep trouble.

  *****

  Farrah marveled at how easily she and Xavier had fallen into a routine in their fake marriage. He got up early in the mornings to mow the grass on a section of the property or chop down mini-trees and shrubs.

  She made breakfast, usually something simple, by the time he got back. She was not really good at cooking anything complicated but she had spent the most part of her childhood in the kitchen with Delores and she had shown her how to make some things. Her first morning she had burned the scrambled eggs and Xavier had eaten the rubbery black mess without complaint.

  By midday, they were heading out to the beach in the battered pickup. He always carried his camera and would usually spend long minutes in one spot, enthusiastically trying to photograph some kind of beach wildlife. She acted as his assistant and of course they would talk for hours, not about anything that really mattered. They didn't talk about past relationships or his life in America or anything that was potentially a hot spot.

  Xavier lived an idyllic and simple life and for the first time since she was little, Farrah felt at peace. It was a curious feeling because at the same time she felt peaceful she was also tied up in knots. Xavier gave off a sexually magnetic lure that was disquieting.

  She was roommate to a guy whose very laugh made her feel jittery inside.

  When she woke up on Monday morning and saw that their food was dwindling she made up her mind to get a job. She couldn't do idyllic anymore, Xavier seemed content to while away his days playing his guitar and photographing nature but she was suddenly hit with the thought that one of them had to be practical. There was a vast world outside of their cottage and pretty soon bill collectors would be at their door.

 

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