Contracted: A Wife for the Bedroom

by Carol Marinelli

  Hunters grip on her thankfully tightened, no doubt feeling the depth of emotion that coursed through her as her mother spoke on. ‘Lily and her father are incredibly close,’ Catherine explained to Hunter, slipping from past to present tense. Lily felt Hunter’s beat of tension sear through her body, realised he’d heard the mistake, too, but thankfully his smile didn’t change. ‘He was a wonderful man. If you and Lily can experience just a fraction of the love we share, you’ll be doing well.’

  ‘You must miss him terribly,’ the new perfect son-in-law murmured, but Catherine shook her head.

  ‘Why would I miss him when I know that he’s still with me?’

  ‘Are you OK?’ For once he wasn’t superior or mocking, for once his question was straightforward and genuine, which made it all the harder to answer. A quick retort would be so much easier than opening up the most painful part of her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lily said, then bit hard on her lip and turned her head so he couldn’t see her face. But Hunter was having none of it. Taking her by the hand, he led her outside onto the balcony and she went without resistance. Only when she was outside did she realise how much tension was stringing her together, how much she’d actually needed some space to be able to drop the charade for just a couple of moments.

  ‘It’s just been a long day.’ Lily dragged in the cool night air, tried to make light of her threatening tears. ‘Hormones, perhaps.’

  ‘Well, according to my girl user manual…’ he drew out a tiny smile from her as he refused to be fobbed off ‘…the P in PMT is definitely pre-and not post-menstrual tension!’

  Trust him to remember—the moment of panic when they’d realised they hadn’t used contraception had been countered almost immediately by Lily’s period and she’d gone straight on the Pill, which to Hunter’s delight had, in two weeks, added a cup size to her breasts.

  ‘And don’t blame the Pill!’ Hunter said, reading her mind.

  ‘I can blame whatever I want,’ Lily answered tartly. ‘And if you’d read the next chapter of your girly user manual, it would have told you that thanks to the Pill, I’m feeling bloated and nauseous.’

  ‘I must have skipped that part.’ He pulled her back towards him. ‘Come on, Lily, what’s really wrong?’ He wasn’t going to give in, so Lily gave him some of what he was demanding, told him a just a little of how she was feeling.

  ‘I just feel like a fraud in there—pretending to be happy.’

  ‘But, why wouldn’t you be happy?’ Hunter asked, bemused. ‘I’m happy.’

  ‘How?’ She stared back at him. ‘How can you be happy when you’re fooling everyone?’

  ‘Because we’re not.’ He shook his head. ‘And unlike a lot of couples on their wedding day, we’re not fooling ourselves either. We both like and respect each other. We’re both going to do everything we can to make this the best marriage—even if it is finite. Just because it has a use-by date, it doesn’t mean it can’t be good and productive.’

  ‘I guess.’ Lily nodded, wishing she could be comforted, but each word cut like a knife because each word spelt out the inevitable end.

  ‘I don’t think that’s all that’s upsetting you, though,’ Hunter said, and her stomach tightened. ‘Is it what your mother said about your father?’

  ‘Leave it.’ She shook her head, her resolve not to cry weakening.

  He noticed, his warm thumb absorbing a mascara-laced tear before it even fell. ‘I know how you feel, Lily.’

  ‘No, Hunter.’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘I lost my parents last year,’ Hunter pointed out, perhaps to elicit sympathy, perhaps to show that he really did understand, but Lily knew that there was no way he could, no way he could know the pain her mother’s words had evoked, the utter wretchedness of being privy to a secret you wished you’d never found out. ‘You’ll never understand how I feel.’

  ‘Try me,’ Hunter offered, but again she shook her head. His wife she may be, but her emotions, her secrets were hers. She still owned herself and no piece of paper, no amount of money could ever change that.

  ‘I’m going to go and freshen up.’ She pushed him away, pushed him away because if she spent another second in his arms, she’d tell him her pain, let him in on the secret she’s sworn she’d never reveal. And she was truly scared at how much she wanted to. ‘I’ll meet you back in there.’

  It was a relief to be alone, to close a heavy door on the revelry of the wedding and mute the sounds to more manageable proportions, to stare at her reflection in the mirror and somehow attempt to find herself, to gather up the strewn emotions and arrange them in a semblance of order. Only it wasn’t going to happen tonight! Somehow she managed a smile as a very good-looking woman came in and joined her at the mirror, catching Lily’s eyes as she leant forward in the mirror and checked her expertly made-up face.

  ‘Enjoying yourself?’ Her voice was as expensive as her outfit and Lily tried to place her, but realised they hadn’t been introduced because she certainly wasn’t someone you’d forget in hurry—black, glossy hair rippled down olive shoulders, her tall, elegant frame exquisitely draped in a silver sheath of a dress. And even though it was her own wedding, the bride felt rather drab in comparison, especially when the stunning creature proceeded to rearrange her ample cleavage.

  ‘Immensely.’ Lily gave what she hoped was a suitable response. ‘I don’t think we were introduced.’

  ‘We weren’t!’ Gold eyes caught Lily’s and held them. ‘I was too busy working. I’m the one who organised this wedding. I’m the one you have to thank for your immensely enjoyable day!’

  Stunning she might be, but she had that raw, dangerous glint in her eyes of a woman suffering the wounds of a recent break-up, and at that moment Lily realised who she was dealing with—the woman Hunter had declared was well and truly over him!

  Thanks a lot, Hunter, Lily inwardly groaned as she mustered all her people skills to deal with this rather uncomfortable situation. ‘You must be Abigail,’ Lily attempted, trying to defuse this rather volatile situation. ‘Hunter speaks very highly of you and I can see why. You’ve done an amazing job. Thank you.’

  ‘Oh, it’s far more than a job.’ Abigail’s face was dangerously close, so close Lily could smell the excess champagne on her breath, could feel the hatred and anger coursing from her livid body. ‘I assume you’re expecting me to offer my congratulations?’

  ‘After these last few weeks I’ve learned never to assume anything,’ Lily answered, declining the rather provocative question and instead attempting to end things. But Abigail had clearly waited for this moment, had no doubt spent the last weeks planning not just the wedding but the confrontation, too, and Lily realised with an inward sigh unless she was willing to push past her and make a rapid exit from the ladies’ room, she didn’t have much option other than to let Abigail have her angry say.

  ‘Hunter’s incapable of remaining faithful for five minutes. Trust me, I know.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ Lily responded tightly, glancing at the door and wishing someone—anyone—would come in.

  ‘Don’t turn your back for a second, Mrs Myles, because if it isn’t me then I can guarantee there will be someone else willing and waiting.’

  ‘Feel free,’ Lily answered, ‘but know you’re in for one helluva wait—I happen to trust my husband.’

  ‘Then you’re a fool.’ Abigail spat, tossing her hair and walking out.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Hunter dutifully kissed Lily on the cheek for the benefit of the onlookers as she made her way over, still shaking slightly from the confrontation. ‘What took you so long?’

  ‘I just ran into one of your psycho ex-girlfriends in the ladies’ room.’ Smiling sweetly, she whispered into his ear, ‘Thanks for the warning!’ But if she’d expected contrition she didn’t get it, Hunter’s face breaking into a grin as he swept her onto the dance floor.

  ‘Who was it?’

  That he didn’t even know who it might be sh
ould have made things worse but, despite herself, there was a sliver of a smile on her face at his appalling question. He was so utterly and completely bad, but so impossibly divine. ‘For future reference, that was the wrong response, Hunter!’

  ‘I never said I didn’t have a past.’

  ‘Did you have to bring it to the wedding?’ Lily quipped.

  ‘Come on. Who was it?’

  She nearly told him, even opened her mouth to answer him, but at the last moment thought better of it, recalling the old saying of keeping friends close and enemies closer, realising there and then she’d need to keep her wits about her to play this game and survive.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who it was,’ Lily answered, her eyes suddenly serious, the teasing note in her voice completely gone as she stared back at him. ‘The fact is I told her that I trusted my husband, so don’t make me a fool here, Hunter. Know that I don’t give out second chances.’

  ‘I won’t need one.’

  And he said it so confidently, so assuredly, pulled her so close as they danced that for now she chose to believe him. Lily closed her eyes on the world that was watching them, waiting for them to slip up, waiting for them to fall, and just let Hunter hold her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘THIS,’ said Hunter, pushing open a vast navy door and stepping aside to let her through, ‘is home.’

  For now.

  He didn’t say it but she felt the two words hanging in the air, felt again the transient nature of her existence for the next twelve months.

  Stepping into Hunter’s vast apartment, Lily tried and failed not to be daunted by the expensive surroundings of his exclusive penthouse. His apartment, their apartment, took up the entire top floor of the high-rise city building, the shimmering city skyline visible not through a window but an entire glassed wall, like some scenic lookout making her slightly giddy as she neared it, as if she were standing on the edge of some unstable precipice, as if with one slip, one misplaced move she’d topple out into the vast night sky.

  ‘Do you want a tour?’ Hunter asked, picking up a remote and flicking on some music, but Lily shook her head.

  ‘I’ll just have a wander around, if you don’t mind.’

  Which she did. Wide-eyed, she took in the luxuriously expensive surroundings. The music Hunter had turned on was piped into every tastefully furnished room, and though it was undoubtedly the most exclusive opulent residence she had ever set foot inside, not for a second could it be considered a home. There was nothing ‘lived in’ about it, nothing that truly denoted Hunter. He hadn’t chosen the tasteful paintings that hung on the orchid-white walls or the bed-linen that was pulled taut on the vast king-size bed—somehow instinctively she knew that. It was like visiting a display home or checking into a luxury hotel, Lily thought as she pushed open a door. The marble bathroom gleamed, the toilet paper folded into a neat little V shape, shampoo and conditioner bottles full and perfectly positioned. She half expected a ‘cleaned and sealed’ sign to have been placed on the lavatory. Wandering through to the kitchen it was much the same there—sparkling stainless-steel appliances that were surely never used. As Hunter joined her she pulled open the fridge and peered inside at the minimal contents—some dips and wine, a cheese platter with fruit and a jug of cream, all no doubt checked and replenished by the cleaner each morning.

  ‘I tend to eat out,’ Hunter offered by way of explanation, ‘or if you want to eat in ring down to the doorkeeper and he’ll arrange for one of one of the local restaurants to deliver.’

  ‘We could even try cooking something!’ Lily responded, but the sarcasm was completely wasted on him and Lily tried to shrug of her unease with a smile as they made their way back into the lounge. ‘Your apartment’s stunning.’

  ‘Really.’ Hunter sounded surprised that she liked it. ‘The stereo system’s great, I guess, but…’ he stared around for a moment ‘…it’s a bit bland, don’t you think? And I hate those bloody paintings, especially that one.’ He jabbed a finger towards the offending article. ‘Ten grand for a bloody triangle on top of a circle.’

  ‘Why did you get it, then?’ Lily asked, laughing at his indignation.

  ‘The interior designer chose it.’ Hunter put on an effeminate voice. ‘To provide a soothing focal point.’

  She was only half listening, staring now out of the glass wall into the night.

  The most beautiful man she had ever seen, the most complex, engaging of characters was hers to explore, to adore, to be with, and as if sensing her thoughts he crossed the room and stood behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. He leaned slightly on her shoulder as he pressed his cheek against hers and gazed out at into the night, watching the birds swirling around the lights of the Arts Centre, the noisy, vibrant city of Melbourne, silent through the thick glass.

  ‘My sister liked you.’ Hunter’s low voice bought her out of her daydream and Lily smiled as she leant back into him.

  ‘I liked her, though she’s nothing like I imagined.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘I just expected…’ Lily bit her tongue, her choice of words perhaps a touch harsh, but from the way Hunter had described his sister Lily had been expecting a bitter, depressed woman, one struggling to come to terms with her injuries. Yet Emma had appeared anything but—her smile was infectious, her sheer joy and passion for life blatant. She was either a brilliant actress or…Lily frowned, unseen by Hunter, confused at the lack of alternatives on offer.

  ‘Your mum’s great!’ Hunter gave a low laugh.

  ‘You mean she’s as mad as a cut snake.’ Lily gave a small giggle of her own. ‘She talks about Dad as if he’s just popped over to the bar and will back any minute. It used to worry me, now I just smile.’

  ‘I still don’t get it.’ Hunter’s grip tightened on her, as if sensing that she’d wriggle away, and he was right, because the second he broached the subject Lily tensed. If his arms hadn’t been firmly holding her, she’d surely have walked away. ‘If you’d had my parents I’d understand your views on love being a bit jaded, but your mum and dad were clearly devoted to each other. Surely, even after what happened with Mark, you’d have a little more faith!’

  But, for Lily, more surprising than his insight was that for the first time she wanted to talk about it, actually wanted to share with Hunter a bit of the loneliness she was feeling.

  Even if this marriage was devoid of love, there was still closeness, and maybe it would help, maybe telling him what was eating at her now would ease a fraction of her troubled mind.

  ‘I always thought they were devoted to each other—my childhood was pretty much perfect, I guess.’ She was watching a train far below pull into the station, like a movie with the sound turned off, and somehow it was easier to focus on the lives on the streets below than what she was saying. ‘Mum and Dad were great. Even when I was a teenager I still got on well with them, not like some of my friends…’

  ‘No rebellion years?’

  ‘There was nothing to rebel against,’ Lily answered pensively. ‘I truly thought we were all OK.’

  His arms tightened around her and she leant back on him, glad of his strength, his solid warmth, grateful, so grateful that he didn’t push her to go on, seemed to understand how hard it was to reveal.

  ‘This isn’t just about your father dying, is it?’ he said softly as she crumpled. ‘Tell me, Lily.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ she whispered. Only somehow she did. Gulping, tentative she told out her story. ‘Just before he died, Mum got it into her head that she wanted to show him some photos. She sent me up to the attic…’

  ‘Go on,’ Hunter said, and now he was pushing, but Lily was glad to have someone guiding her through this minefield of emotion, glad to have someone strong and assured to cling to as she crept tentatively on. ‘I was in the attic, sorting out old boxes and suitcases. I found some letters.’ She wasn’t crying any more. Her voice was bitter, her words tainted as she lived again the vileness of her discove
ry. ‘Some from him, some from her.’ Pale lips snarled the words, and Hunter’s expression told her that finally he understood. ‘It wasn’t just a brief fling.’ She answered what hadn’t even been asked, ticked of the list of questions that she’d asked herself back then. ‘It went on for two years. I’d have been about twelve when it started. It was pretty intense…’

  ‘You read them all?’

  ‘All of them,’ She nodded, closing her eyes as the torrid words that had been penned all those years ago seemed to dance in her vision. ‘And then I burnt them.’

  ‘Did you tell your mum?’

  ‘How?’ Lily asked, tears starting again, hysteria creeping into her voice. ‘I raced round to Mark. I wanted him to tell me what to do…’

  ‘And you found out that the whole world had gone mad,’ Hunter offered. In spite of herself Lily gave a watery grin at his description. When she’d found Mark with Janey it had felt exactly as if her world had gone mad. ‘I just couldn’t tell Mum—I’d have taken away her whole life if I’d told her, taken away all her memories. How could I tell her it was all just a sham, that the man she loved, adored right till the very end, had been cheating on her?’

  ‘You couldn’t,’ Hunter said very firmly, very clearly, and it helped, helped that he concurred, that that awful, painful decision she’d made had surely been the right one. ‘You could never have told her that.’

  ‘I wish I’d never found them,’ she whispered. ‘I wish I’d never given my career up for a man who was nothing more than a cheat, I wish I’d never found out the truth.’

  ‘But you don’t know the truth, Lily.’ His words confused her and she frowned up at him. ‘You think you found it in those letters, but that’s only a fraction of it. He was still a great father and, despite what you found, he was still a great husband.’

  ‘He was a cheat!’

  ‘He was human, Lily. It’s not your secret to keep or reveal.’