Elena was teasing, but it was a legitimate concern. Rosie meant well, but she was too honest. She spoke her mind even when she wasn’t asked, though that had been reserved for Elena’s ears. But with no one else listening, Elena had wondered if her father had been a recipient of Rosie’s comments. If he had been, there would not have been the same indulgence.
‘My mouth is not so sharp these days.’ Her eyes were, though, and they told Elena Rosie had learnt that lesson the hard way. Her heart beat painfully, but she managed a smile.
‘I hope it’ll still be with me.’
‘Child, you are supposed to announce an engagement today. Your husband will have a sharp mouth to put you in your place.’
‘There it is.’ A relieved laugh tickled Elena’s throat, but despite the reprieve from her tension, she wasn’t in the mood to laugh. ‘Actually, that’s why I’m here. To introduce my father to my husband.’
She gestured to Micah. He held out his hand, smiling as charmingly as he’d been taught. But before he could speak, a voice thundered from the top of the stairs.
‘What the hell did I just hear?’ A tall, stately man descended, but stopped after three steps. ‘Did you say this man is your husband?’
Elena’s breath left her for a second. Somehow, despite it, she managed a small, ‘Yes, Dad. This is my husband.’
* * *
Micah wanted to throttle the man who made Elena’s voice change like that. From warm to cool; from strong to almost broken. He’d hated everything about the last hours they spent together. She’d barely spoken to him, the fire that was essential to her nowhere to be found.
If he thought it was only because of her father, he would have understood. But something about the way he caught her looking at him—the way she quickly looked away when he did—made him think this had to do with him. It was easier to blame her father. Easier than examining everything he’d done, trying to figure out what had made her respond this way.
He forced himself into the present. Elena’s father was coming down the stairs, followed by a man Micah recognised as her would-be fiancé. The man’s gaze was on him: a sharp, accusatory stare that didn’t bother Micah a single bit. If looks had any effect on him, he wouldn’t have been the man he was, nor the businessperson.
‘Please explain to me why you’re saying you’re already married when we’re supposed to announce your engagement tonight?’ Cliff John asked stonily.
Elena’s shoulders hunched slightly. Rosie inched forward, as if to comfort Elena, but Elena shot her a look and the woman left the room, shaking her head. Micah shifted closer to Elena, just a fraction, so she could feel him by her side. No matter what was going on between them, he would show his support. That was what their marriage was about.
She cleared her throat. ‘Dad, this is Micah Williams. He’s the man I was doing the story on for the newspaper.’ Elena turned to him. ‘Micah, this is my father. Cliff John. And this is...’ She faded, then shook her head, her shoulders straightening again. A fierce pride shot up inside him. ‘This is Jameson St Clair.’
He waited until both men were level with them before moving over the gleaming white tiles to offer his hand.
‘Mr John. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
He left it at that. Cliff John stared at him for a moment, but took his hand. Micah turned to Jameson. He didn’t offer a hand, but gave the man a slight nod.
‘Mr St Clair.’
He moved back to Elena’s side immediately.
‘Elena, is it true?’ Jameson asked before Micah got there. ‘You’re married to him?’
‘Yes.’
Elena stared at him in a mixture of defiance and strength. Micah resisted his smile, but welcomed the enjoyment. This was his Elena. This was his wife.
‘Explain yourself, Elena,’ Cliff said. ‘I won’t ask again.’
Micah ground down on his teeth to keep from responding. He waited for Elena—they all did. She was quiet for a long time, though her defiance and strength didn’t falter. She didn’t need his protection, he realised. Perhaps externally, as he said, but not where it mattered.
‘I didn’t want to marry Jameson,’ she said eventually. Simply. ‘You didn’t give me much of a choice, so I had to create one for myself.’
‘So you married him?’ Jameson snapped. ‘The man I told you was using you to get to your father?’
Micah did his best not to look at Elena, but he understood why her anger had been so fierce now. She had every right to be angry, regardless of how she had found out, but finding out from Jameson? From another man using her? It must have stung. Micah would have done anything to go back and change his motives. He didn’t want to be on the list of men who’d tried to use her.
‘It isn’t so different from how you wanted to use me, is it? At least Micah had the decency to care about me.’
‘I can’t imagine why you thought you didn’t have a choice, Elena.’ Her father’s voice was disinterested, as were his eyes, but Micah wasn’t fooled. His lips were thinned under his white moustache, the skin between his eyebrows furrowed. Micah was good at reading people, and Cliff John was upset.
No, not upset. Livid.
He could feel Elena tremble at his side, but her chin lifted. ‘You threatened my job.’
‘Did I?’ Cliff asked, edging forward. Elena moved back, without realising it, he was sure. Micah shifted, too, but he wished with all his strength he’d stood behind her so she would have backed into him and realised what she was doing.
‘I thought I was merely offering you something you’ve always wanted: to make me happy,’ Cliff continued.
Micah felt the change in Elena’s body at that statement. The trembling stopped; everything stopped. She didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. Just when he thought he would have to intervene, she exhaled sharply. Her inhalation was just as sharp. She looked at Micah, and the emotion there, along with everything else he’d witnessed over the last few minutes, handed the baton over to him.
‘And she still is, Mr John,’ Micah said smoothly. ‘Elena conveyed your intentions regarding the marriage you proposed.’ Disgust coated his tongue at that line, but he continued. ‘We believe we can still reach those ends with different means.’
Micah didn’t spare a glance at Jameson when the man snorted. He had Cliff’s attention. And if he had it, Elena didn’t. She could process whatever was happening in her brain.
He angled his head. ‘You’ve probably already heard of me, Mr John, but I’ll assume you haven’t and tell you who I am.’ He didn’t pause at the slight rise of Cliff’s eyebrows. ‘I sell a lifestyle to all of Africa. Recently, I’ve expanded to Europe. I don’t have to tell you what a partnership between my business and yours could mean for both of us.’ He let it linger. ‘But mostly for you.’
‘You’re arrogant.’
‘Confident,’ Micah corrected. Then smiled. ‘Perhaps arrogant suits, too. It’s semantics, honestly. Would you like to discuss semantics, Mr John, or would you like to discuss how I can make John Diamond Company the talk of the diamond industry? Not only in Africa, but the world?’
‘You can’t do that,’ Jameson said, speaking for the first time since Micah started his pitch. ‘John Diamond Company existed long before you and your business. What can a partnership with you do for their profile that they couldn’t do themselves?’
‘I imagine it’s the same thing a partnership with your family could do for them.’ He still didn’t look at Jameson directly, because he knew it would annoy the man and impress Cliff. ‘Except on a much larger scale. I just signed a contract with the second biggest jewellery store chain in Italy. The contract was based on me providing them with diamonds from Africa that are reliable, well known and ethically sourced. I was hoping you’d be my supplier, but, if not, I’d be happy to offer the opportunity to someone else.’
Micah experienc
ed the stunned silence with the same satisfaction he did every successful business deal. He was certain he’d won Cliff John over. He wouldn’t need to secure Elena’s job—although he’d already put out feelers to do that, if necessary—because Cliff had come over to their side. His daughter’s disobedience had brought damn near world domination for his company right to his doorstep. He wouldn’t dare do anything to make her unhappy now.
It wasn’t the emotional support Micah wanted to offer her that morning, but it was the best he could do.
‘Mr Williams—may I call you Micah?’ Cliff’s tone had eased into a charm he was willing to bet was Cliff’s ‘closer’ voice.
‘Of course. We are family.’
‘Micah.’ Cliff’s smile was all teeth. ‘Why don’t you come up to my office and we can discuss this in more detail?’
Micah turned to Elena. Her expression was closed, but that wasn’t unsurprising if she was still processing. ‘Would you like to come with?’
‘No,’ she said softly. She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Alarm fluttered through him. ‘No, thank you. I don’t have anything to add to that conversation.’ Elena waved a hand. ‘I’ll see you at home.’
‘You’re leaving?’
‘Only because it’s business.’ She leaned forward and brushed a kiss on his cheek. Then she turned to her father. ‘I assume this is fine with you?’
Her voice was cool and, again, pride filled him. She was fighting back. He knew it cost her, but they would deal with that together.
‘Perfectly fine.’
‘You asked me to be here, Cliff,’ Jameson said, all rage. ‘You told me we’d get to the bottom of this misunderstanding. How am I supposed to explain this to everyone? What am I supposed to do with everything we’ve bought and planned for today?’
‘I’ll cover any financial costs you’ve incurred,’ Micah said, looking away from Elena to Jameson. ‘It’s the least I can do.’
‘You son—’
‘Jameson,’ Cliff interrupted. His voice was a mirror of the coldness of Elena’s, and stopped Jameson in his tracks. ‘I think it’s clear there hasn’t been a misunderstanding. I’ll make sure people believe the engagement was only rumours. When they announce the marriage to the world, all will be forgiven.’
‘Wh—what about me?’ Jameson asked, eyes wide. ‘What about my family’s company?’
‘This is business,’ Cliff said, his smile shark-like. ‘Deals fall through every day.’
Jameson stared at them, stunned. Elena broke the silence.
‘I think I’ll get Rosie to call me a car.’
She left all three men with that. Micah stared after her, willing her to look back, to acknowledge their win. She didn’t.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELENA SPENT THE ride to the hotel wondering what she was going to do next.
The suite was booked for another night, but she couldn’t bear to stay there again. She cherished the memories that had been created there. She’d got ready for her wedding there. She’d talked and laughed and made love to her husband there. She had never felt closer to another person than she had in that room.
It would be a constant reminder that she was in love with Micah and he would never be in love with her.
She might have been overreacting. But as she’d watched him go to bat for her she’d realised two things. One, she loved him even more deeply than she first thought she did. He protected her exactly as he said he would. More importantly, he supported her. His steady presence, his proximity... All of it had given her the courage to finally stand up to her father. To finally see, truly see, the extent of how her father was using her.
Cliff knew that she wanted his love and approval and he’d used that against her. A man like that didn’t deserve Elena’s love and attention. It hurt more than she could possibly express, but she had been clinging to her father for too long. To the hope that he would love her because if he didn’t, who else would? Not her mother, who had forgotten Elena existed years ago. Elena didn’t have friends, or other family members. She had a husband, but her second realisation told her he wouldn’t love her either. Because as she watched him handle the situation with her father, she knew he was perfectly happy with the arrangement they’d made.
Their business arrangement. Not a marriage, but a partnership. She couldn’t live with him, sleep with him, love him knowing that he would only ever see it that way.
She’d spent her entire life trying to get one man to love her. She couldn’t spend the rest of it trying to do the same with another.
She pressed her lips together as she packed her belongings into her bag and called a car. She was about to grab her wedding outfit in the garment bag in the closet, but stopped. It would only hurt her to see it. For it to remind her that she loved her husband and needed him to love her back, but he didn’t. Without a backward glance, she left the room and went to her home.
When she was there, she opened her laptop to check her emails. She’d been avoiding work and the implications of her marriage for much too long. Micah hadn’t replied to the email about her story, so she assumed he had no notes. Not that it mattered. There was no way she could write the story as his wife.
Her heart broke as she outlined the information for her boss, attaching what she had written so whoever got assigned to the story would benefit from her trip to Italy. She’d come back the day before, yet it felt like a dream. The exploration, the privacy, the newness. Now she was back home, feeling more exposed than she ever had, by a situation she shouldn’t have put herself in.
The response from her editor—that was somehow a rebuke, congratulations, and request in one—told her to focus on work. It was reliable. And with Micah as her husband, her job was safe. She closed her eyes. Shook her head. Focused. She might have messed up her old assignment, but she wouldn’t mess up this new one. She would write about her whirlwind courtship with Micah for the newspaper. It would be more fiction than fact, but the readers would never know. And they would love it. If they did, this could still be a way forward for her.
She wrote back, then got up to make herself a cup of tea. She was nursing it on her couch when the knock on the door came.
She’d been expecting it. With one last sip of her tea, she set it on the coffee table and opened the door.
‘Elena?’ Micah walked in, moving in for a kiss. She assumed. She stepped back before he could touch her. She wouldn’t torture herself with more memories. ‘Are you okay? Your things weren’t in our room when I got back.’
‘You found me,’ she said easily, closing the door behind him. ‘Do you want tea? Coffee? I don’t keep alcohol in the house. I’m sorry about that.’
‘No.’ His brow was creased so deeply she was sure there would be indentations once it smoothed. ‘I want to know if you’re okay.’
‘No.’ She went to sit on the couch again, bringing her tea with her and crossing her legs. ‘But I will be.’
He didn’t move a muscle, just kept standing there. She could almost see inside his brain. He was trying to work out what to say. Going through everything that had happened to check whether something had gone wrong.
He wouldn’t be able to see it. He hadn’t done anything wrong; she’d been the one to change. She was no longer happy with their arrangement. She needed him to love her. She needed the person she was in love with to love her. The fact that he didn’t would torment her every day. She’d do everything in her power to try and change his mind. She knew she would because that was what she’d done with her parents. With her father. And look where that had brought her.
Micah didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve her trying so hard to please him she lost herself. He’d made his arrangement with her; not the version of her that she thought he wanted.
Beyond that, Elena finally saw that she didn’t deserve it. She deserved to be fulfilled and happy.
She deserved to be herself.
‘What’s going on in your head, Elena?’ Micah asked eventually.
‘We made a mistake,’ she said softly.
‘What do you mean?’ He moved now, sitting on the chair opposite her. His body was stiff.
‘Last night,’ she forced herself to say. ‘Sleeping together. We shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Why not?’
She fortified her heart at the curt words.
You expected this. But if you don’t do it now it’ll be worse.
‘I was right. It made things murky.’
‘Is that supposed to make sense to me?’ He stood. She merely lifted her chin. She wouldn’t get up. Her knees wouldn’t hold her. ‘What are you saying? What are you really saying?’
She didn’t know how to respond to his anger. She was already feeling vulnerable, and every word he said battered against her defences. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she wanted him to love her, but she couldn’t stand to be rejected. Not after hearing her father use her love for him against her. Not after figuring out her feelings for Micah. It was all too much.
But she could do this. She could get through this. She had with her father, and she would now. After a few more breaths, she said, ‘We have a business arrangement, and it works. We both got what we wanted from my father today. We’ll likely continue to be successful working together in the future. But sleeping together adds a dimension to this relationship that...that won’t work.’ She took another breath. ‘Business, Micah. Let’s keep it that way.’
* * *
It was clawing at him, the familiarity of this situation. But the claws came from a dark place. He couldn’t afford to shine a light on it when he needed all his attention to understand Elena. Her posture was stiff and cold, worse than it had been when they’d been at her father’s. Her face was beautiful in its aloofness, he could admit, but he didn’t like it. He preferred the beauty of her smiles, the animation in her eyes. When she was teasing him, or gazing at him with lazy pleasure. He wanted his Elena back, not the one who brought the claws and destroyed the light. The one he didn’t understand.
Marrying His Runaway Heiress Page 14
