Contracted: A Wife for the Bedroom

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘You probably never will,’ Hunter said softly. ‘So let it go.’

  ‘It’s not that easy…’ She was quarrelling more with herself than with him because she wanted it to be the case, wanted to be able to put the truth she’d discovered aside, but she just couldn’t.

  ‘Let him be your dad again, Lily.’ He took the biggest problem in her life to date and shrank it as if by magic, folded up the impossible, complicated map she’d been trying and failing to follow and tossed it aside, offering her a far easier path to follow. ‘Don’t try to work it all out.’

  ‘Is that what you do?’ She blinked at him. ‘Just refuse to go there?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Inside yourself.’

  ‘There’s nothing lurking there. I deal with things as they happen—and then I move on.’

  ‘No.’ Boldly she confronted him. She’d given so much of herself it was as if she wanted a piece of him in return—a piece of his soul that she could keep for ever—no matter what the future held for them. ‘Hunter, maybe you didn’t have the greatest relationship with them, but they were your parents and with all that’s happened to your sister…’

  ‘Lily.’ He shook his head, smiled at her almost with pity that she couldn’t quite get it. ‘It happened—and beating myself up over it isn’t going to change a single thing.’

  ‘What happened?’ Boldly she stared at him, pushed for details because she needed them. ‘Hunter, it’s just so recent. What happened was so awful—surely there must be some unresolved—’

  ‘Oh, please!’ Hunter just rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t start with your psychobabble.’

  ‘I know about your parents, what happened to Emma—were you involved?’

  ‘Nope.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘So no unresolved guilt there. Yes, it was bloody, yes, it was awful, the police coming to the door isn’t a particularly pleasant memory, that I’m prepared to admit. However, beating myself on the chest isn’t going to change things—going over and over the hows and whys isn’t going to turn back the clock.’

  ‘I guess…but…’

  ‘Leave it,’ he snapped, then regretted his harshness; there was something in her voice that twisted his stomach, something he hadn’t heard when he’d been sitting on the couch at New Beginnings. Far, far more than professional interest, those knowing curious eyes blazing with concern. And for Hunter, instead of reassuring him, it actually terrified him—not that she couldn’t possibly understand.

  More the fact that she just might.

  That in revealing his pain, he might also reveal his fears.

  For her.

  It was more than a beat of hesitation, wrenching indecision hanging in the air as patiently she waited—offered without words this step towards intimacy.

  Offered herself to the lions, Hunter thought with sickening realisation—a future like his past, like his mother’s past.

  ‘No buts!’ he said more softly, smiled that devilish smile and promptly diverted the conversation, dragged her closer physically as he pushed her away emotionally. ‘We’ve got more important things to attend to now.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like consummating this marriage.’

  ‘Hunter…’ She opened her mouth to protest, wanted so badly for him to talk to her, to reveal a bit more of himself to her, but, as always, when she ventured too far into his guarded thoughts Hunter shot her away with a silver bullet.

  ‘No arguments,’ he said softly. ‘You’re my wife now and you’ll do as I say.’

  ‘Joking,’ he added, as Lily stiffened in his arms, her eyes narrowing at his choice of words.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t very funny,’ Lily responded. ‘Because if you think—’ He didn’t let her finish, stopping her protest with his mouth. But nothing, not even his skilful kisses, could completely hush the incessant voice that told her Hunter hadn’t been joking. Nothing, not even the mastery of his touch, could completely obliterate the troubled thoughts that tumbled through her mind.

  That by stepping into Hunter’s world, by becoming his wife, somehow she’d lost control. That no matter how willing a participant she was in this relationship, it was Hunter calling all the shots.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘SHOULD we go to Emma’s dressing room and wish her luck?’ Clutching a glass of champagne, hemmed in by the masses having a pre-performance drink, Lily suddenly felt claustrophobic.

  ‘Why?’ Hunter shot her a cool stare. Since he’d come from work he’d been at his bloodiest, snapping for her to hurry up and get ready then proceeding to spend half an hour on his phone to Abigail as Lily stood, dressed to the nines, waiting to leave for Emma’s return to the stage.

  ‘How was work?’ Hunter asked, a seemingly normal question, but with indescribable connotations. Her need to assert herself, to keep a link with her temporary past and inevitable future was a niggling bone of contention.

  ‘Difficult,’ Lily bristled. ‘It’s hard, showing you can relate to people when you arrive in a chauffer-driven car.’

  ‘Don’t go, then.’ Hunter shrugged, deliberately missing the point. She wanted to work, wanted to keep that part of herself that was so vital to her soul. No matter how big the donation Hunter had made for the centre she worked at, no matter how easy it would be for them to find another counsellor, hell, maybe even a real psychologist now—still it didn’t sit right with Lily, and no matter how many times she attempted to explain, quite simply Hunter didn’t get it. But she knew with certainty that he didn’t need to be quite so poisonous.

  He was undoubtedly nervous, Lily told herself. Emma’s return to performing was such a momentous leap that it wasn’t any wonder he was on edge—but Hunter on edge was like no other. In fact, Lily decided, marriage to Hunter was like struggling through a thesaurus without a dictionary.

  Easy to describe—impossible to define.

  In the weeks since their wedding, every emotion in her had been triggered—every second spent with Hunter a roller-coaster ride—intoxicating highs, followed by devastating lows. His easy wit, his engaging company, his voracious appetite for sex countered with black moods that no longer blew in from nowhere. Instead, they were tiny whirlwinds that danced endlessly on the horizon, merging unpredictably, and each time their impact was more devastating.

  ‘Anyway.’ Hunter reverted back to the original topic. ‘The dressing room’s no doubt a bit crowded. Your cousin Jim’s down with her, no doubt fawning all over her.’

  ‘Good,’ Lily shot back. ‘She deserves a bit of tenderness.’

  He didn’t reply, the ringing of his phone beating the undoubted barb on the tip of his tongue, and Lily felt her own teeth grinding together as Abigail somehow managed to invade yet again. Hunter turned his wide shoulders on the crowd to take the call as Lily took a sip from her glass, and promptly felt as if she might throw it up, the crowd, the heavy clash of perfumes, the rather toxic atmosphere all combining to make her feel thoroughly miserable.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Hunter asked when finally the call ended and the bell went for everyone to take their seats.

  ‘I’m just a bit hot.’

  ‘That was just Abigail, confirming that Emma’s flowers had been delivered—if that’s what’s worrying you.’

  ‘It isn’t.’ Lily shook her head and wished she hadn’t. The room was spinning mercilessly, not that Hunter noticed. He was taking her arm to guide her in as the crowed surged forward, and for an appalling moment Lily thought she might pass out, right there in front of everyone, and, worse still, right there in front of Hunter. ‘I’m just going to the ladies’ room.’

  Which was easier said than done. Hunter’s irritated curse rang in her ears as she went against the tide, black suits and bow-ties blurring like a hypnotic wheel as she stumbled towards the ladies’ and sat, undignified in a thousand-dollar gown, on the loo seat lid with her head down between her knees, the stifling heat replaced now with an icy chill, a cold sweat drenching her.
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  ‘Please, please, stop,’ Lily demanded of the universe, knowing that Hunter was outside, knowing how huge this moment was for Emma, for him. Desperate not to spoil it, she licked her dry lips in relief as slowly everything came back into focus, her heart rate slowing down, the blood that had drained out of her face making a slow but steady return till finally, gingerly, she sat up.

  It was the rich food, Lily told herself, running her wrists under the tap and rinsing her mouth before reapplying her lipstick—the endless late nights and even more frequent early morning awakenings, courtesy of Hunter’s almost permanent erection.

  She even managed a small grin in the mirror before heading back out to face him and no doubt another sarcastic barb, but, surprisingly he didn’t say anything, just took her arm and this time led them to their seats without incident, his body absolutely rigid beside her. Shooting a glance at him just before the lights dimmed, Lily saw his taut features, the grim set of his jaw and knew he was terrified for Emma, knew somehow that his vileness tonight was more about him than her.

  ‘She’ll be OK,’ Lily offered softly, putting a hand over his tense one and, whether he wanted it or not, holding it.

  ‘Will she?’

  Even in the darkness she could see the anguish in his eyes as he turned to her for a moment and Lily could have wept for him. She knew somehow that the guilt he so vehemently denied was sitting right there between them.

  ‘She’ll be great!’

  Oh, and she was.

  For the first part of the performance they sat on tenterhooks, waiting for her solo, the exquisite music far from soothing because Emma had to match it—better it even—and when finally it was her turn, as the lights dimmed for a moment, as Emma took her place on the stage, Lily felt Hunter’s hand tighten around hers and could have sworn they both stopped breathing, knowing Emma was moving out of her wheelchair. Every muscle in Hunter was taut until finally the clearest, purest of notes filled the packed theatre, Emma, exquisite at centre stage. Her jet hair streamed down her slender shoulders, her black ballgown merging into the elegant chair, but it wasn’t the absence of the wheelchair that rendered her disability to diminishable proportions. It was Emma herself—her talent, her elegance, her sheer presence that had the entire audience captivated till the last note died away, applause thundering as they leapt to their feet in an impromptu standing ovation, only Hunter a step behind everyone, Hunter with an expression Lily couldn’t quite read on his face as he stared down to the stage and his sister. Lily would have given anything to know what he was thinking.

  Anything to know what really moved this man.

  Anything for him.

  The rest of the show was agony—Hunter, bored now, just wanted it over to congratulate Emma, Lily shrinking into her chair, wishing the room would quiet for just a moment so she could counter the impossible thought that had occurred to her.

  Love—true love—didn’t exist. Lily knew that, knew that, knew that. In the worst possible way she’d found out the truth, had been betrayed not just by her fiancé but by her father. The fact that true love was impossible was the single reason she was here, safe in the knowledge that it couldn’t last, playing the game for each other’s gain.

  And yet…

  The lights blazing on snapped her out of her introspection. Hunter was the first in the theatre standing, and Lily stared up, blushing and suddenly shy.

  ‘Come on!’ he growled, snapping his impatient fingers for her to follow him, and Lily was actually grateful for his arrogance, grateful for his pompous demeanour…glad that her moment of stupidity was over, because how, Lily questioned, following his wide shoulders as he rudely, without apology, bumped knees and trampled programmes in his haste to get out, could anyone love that?

  ‘You were great, Em!’ Backstage and completely ignoring Jim, who was holding Emma’s hand, Hunter gave his sister a congratulatory hug.

  ‘Just like old times, huh?’ Emma asked questioningly, and Lily felt a shiver run up her spine as she saw Hunter’s eyes flick to the wheelchair and back, saw the agony etched in his face as he attempted a terse nod.

  ‘Easily as good as before!’

  ‘Better,’ Emma said softly, her hand still coiled around Jim’s, her face glowing. ‘I’m playing better than before.’

  ‘How?’ Hunter frowned. ‘I mean, all the trouble you’ve had with balance…’

  ‘I’ve worked that out now.’ Emma was almost tripping over her words in her joy. ‘I can’t explain it. It’s as if all the pain, all I’ve been through is there, right there in my music, as if everything I can’t say I can…’

  ‘Play…’ Lily offered, smiling as Emma gave a grateful nod. ‘You were fantastic. I know nothing about music, but I do know you were amazing.’

  ‘Thanks, Lily.’ They’d clicked at the wedding and Emma often called around at the apartment or met Lily for coffee, bolstering Lily’s confidence when an unflattering photo of her appeared in a magazine, laughing out loud at some of the hurtful comments—the press delighting in calling her a nobody and questioning how someone so apparently plain could seemingly have captured Hunter’s heart.

  ‘How about dinner, then?’ Hunter suggested, but his voice faded into a frown as Emma shook her head.

  ‘Jim’s already booked a table. For two,’ she added, wincing as she did so.

  ‘Well, we’ll tell them to make it for four,’ Hunter clipped, but, seeing Emma’s blush, Lily leapt to her rescue.

  ‘Actually, I’m exhausted, Hunter. I really could do with just going home and going to bed. You don’t mind, do you?’ Lily needlessly checked with Emma, giving a tiny unseen wink as Emma gave a relieved shake of her head.

  ‘Of course not.’ Emma smiled as Hunter stalked out with barely a goodbye. ‘Thanks so much for coming and for the gorgeous flowers…Oh and, Lily…’ As she made to go and catch up with her impossible husband, the whisper of anguish in Emma’s voice had Lily turning around. ‘I don’t want to tell you how to…’ Her eyes pleaded for Lily’s permission to go on, but a bewildered Lily just stared. ‘You know this is so hard for him.’

  Only she didn’t—didn’t know because Hunter refused over and over to tell her what was going on inside. At every turn he thwarted her, at every attempt he pushed her away. Only how could she tell Emma that? How could she tell this gorgeous, vibrant woman that the brother she so dearly loved, that the marriage she so clearly endorsed were both a sham.

  ‘Surely it’s harder for you?’ Lily answered carefully, hoping for a flash of clarity, but instead the waters muddied further as Emma slowly, so slowly, shook her head.

  ‘Lily, just keep telling him that none of this is his fault—one day he’ll hopefully believe it.’

  ‘What was that about?’ Hunter asked, tapping an impatient foot as his driver flashed his lights from the traffic lights to tell him he was coming. ‘Emma wanted—’

  ‘To be alone with Jim,’ Lily broke in. ‘Only you’re too insensitive to see it.’

  ‘Hell!’ As his driver pulled up at the kerb, it was as if the anger, the tension in him just dissipated, a smile creeping onto his face as an impossible thought occurred. ‘Do you realise,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth, ‘that if they end up getting married, my ex-wife could be at the wedding.’

  ‘My ex-husband, too.’ Lily gave a rather more wobbly smile, still bristling at his impossible behavior tonight, still reeling at the impossible thought that had earlier occurred to her and still utterly bemused by whatever it was Emma had been trying to tell her.

  ‘Your cousin and my sister…’ Hunter mused. ‘Would that make us related?’

  ‘Heaven help us!’ Lily dry response actually made him laugh, and then totally unashamedly, despite the crowd outside the concert hall, despite traffic piling up behind his silver car, Hunter pulled her into his arms and gave her the most thorough of kisses.

  Or because of them? Lily wondered as a camera flashed. She pulled back, slightly breathless from the intensity of his k
iss and suddenly felt more than a bit used.

  ‘Was that for the cameras?’ Lily asked. But Hunter shook his head, that gorgeous, debauched mouth moving in on hers once again, those strong warm hands on her bare back, as her insides promptly melted.

  ‘That—’ Hunter’s voice was low and very definite ‘—was for me!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘ARE you doing anything today?’

  He knotted his tie as he spoke, standing proud and beautiful amid a pile of damp towels and the chaos of a man who neither cared nor needed to pick up after himself.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Lily yawned and stretched, blinking at the day that lay ahead of her, realising it was the first time since she’d met Hunter that she had a whole day to do with whatever she wished. The haste of their marriage should had left an endless ream of loose ends to tie up, juggling work and playing the part of Hunter’s wife two ridiculous parallels, listening and working on people’s problems while seemingly having escaped from hers. And, admittedly, the glamorous world she had stepped into had been immense fun at first—lining her wardrobe with designer clothes, having her blonde hair styled and maintained, not just at the most exclusive of salons but by the owner himself. But she felt as if she were living on a movie set, only one where the cameras never stopped rolling, playing the part of Hunter’s wife impinging more and more on her real world, Hunter’s leading lady, seemingly an all-consuming role.

  ‘Actually, no.’ Lily grinned at the prospect of a free day. ‘I might go and look for a car. The mechanic said it would be cheaper to replace my old one than repair it properly.’ Lily saw his hands still for a second, the tie he was looping pausing midway, and Lily felt herself stiffen in defence. ‘I’m not expecting you to pay for it!’ Even though she’d been desperately trying to help fund a huge mortgage for her mother, Lily hadn’t exactly been derelict financially when she met him—and she certainly wasn’t expecting Hunter to dangle a keyring to some sleek sports car, but still he shook his head.