Contracted: A Wife for the Bedroom

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘What’s wrong with Lachlan?’ Hunter asked, referring to the driver Abigail had arranged for her.

  ‘Nothing.’ Lily frowned.

  ‘Because if you’re not happy with him, I can ask Abigail to—’

  ‘You don’t need to ask Abigail to do anything on my behalf,’ Lily interrupted, sitting up in bed, irritated that something so straightforward was being made so needlessly complicated. ‘Lachlan’s perfectly fine. I just can’t stand being driven everywhere when I’m more than capable of driving myself.’

  ‘But there’s no need.’ Hunter wasn’t listening. Instead he was loading up his briefcase with various papers and filling up his suit pockets with his mobile phone and wallet, deliberately ignoring her protests. When Lily raised her voice a touch to get his attention Hunter just switched the subject. ‘Just forget about looking for a car—why don’t we meet for lunch?’

  ‘Are you going to ask Abigail to pencil me in?’ Lily asked nastily. Every minute of his exhausting day was planned and accounted for by the ever-efficient, seemingly ever-present Abigail. It was as if Abigail’s emotional outburst at the wedding had never happened. Blasé and bold, she strode into the apartment in the mornings, treating Lily with nothing more than polite boredom, as if she was just another of her boss’s details to arrange, as she went through Hunter’s schedule with him, which was no mean feat—he could be in Sydney in the morning, Melbourne in the afternoon and checking in at the international departures lounge of the airport by evening for a three-day trip to Singapore. But no matter how indispensable Abigail was, no matter how professional she appeared with Hunter, Lily neither trusted nor liked her. ‘I don’t want to meet for lunch. I want to go and look at a car.’

  ‘It’s not open for discussion, Lily.’ Only now did he look at her, his stance completely immovable. ‘Abigail’s had practically every magazine in Australia’s features editor trying to arrange an interview—the press still have their lenses trained on you, trying to get a hint of a pregnancy bump.’

  ‘A pregnancy bump?’ Lily gave a shocked laugh. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘That’s the reason for most hasty marriages.’ Hunter gave a little shudder. ‘Heaven forbid. But, like it or not, it’s hard enough to explain why you insist on working, but the sight of you in a secondhand car yard isn’t exactly going to douse their interest.’

  What Hunter was saying did make sense—the interest from everyone had unsettled and shocked her to say the least. Hunter Myles, as she’d found out from the evening news the night before her wedding, wasn’t just gorgeous in her eyes—he was one of Australia’s top most eligible bachelors, or had been. His hasty marriage had caused more than a stir of interest. But even if it made perfect sense she felt uneasy, felt another piece of her freedom being chipped away—yet another price to pay that Lily hadn’t considered when she’d agreed to this marriage.

  ‘I’ll leave it for today, then,’ she reluctantly agreed.

  ‘Good girl.’ Clearly happy he’d got his way, he sat on the bed, took her hands and toyed with them until they relaxed a touch then kissed away the frown that was forming on her face.

  ‘But only until things have calmed down,’ Lily said, making it clear that she wasn’t giving in on the subject. ‘And then I am going to get a car.’

  ‘Tell you what, when things are a bit more settled, I’ll buy you a car. A belated wedding present,’ he added, proceeding to kiss her rather more thoroughly now. But Lily felt as if she was being placated and she wriggled away ‘Abigail will be here soon.’

  ‘I promise I’ll be quick.’ He grinned that devilish grin, only this time she didn’t smile back.

  ‘What’s wrong, Lily?’ He must have sensed her disquiet, because he wasn’t trying to kiss her now, his voice so tender, so concerned that for a second she forgot the rules.

  ‘I hardly see you…’ She could have bitten her tongue off as the words spilled out, but Hunter just smiled.

  ‘Hey, you’re starting to sound like a real wife.’

  ‘I’m just not used to it,’ Lily said carefully, ‘I’m used to being…’ She flailed for the right word, struggled to retract the neediness that had crept into the conversation, to pull back from the line they had agreed not to cross. ‘I suppose I’m used to working more, going out with friends, hopping into my car for a drive…’

  ‘The summer holidays are over soon,’ Hunter reminded her. ‘You’ll be able to find out about finishing that degree and we’ve got a big charity ball at the weekend to go to. Why don’t you go and buy yourself something nice?’

  He was trying to help, but he just didn’t understand, could never understand, because she simply couldn’t tell him—it wasn’t her day or her wardrobe that needed filling, it was her mind. Though over and over Lily told herself to relax and enjoy it, to make the best of their time together, to go with the flow and enjoy the experience with every buff the manicurist applied to her nails, with every glittering bauble Hunter showered her with she felt as if her own sparkle was fading, as if somehow he was draining her, would take his fill till there was nothing left then discard the carcass. But instead of telling him that she nodded, said yes because it was easier than saying no, accepted his offer because it was safer than arguing, safer than revealing what was really in her heart.

  ‘Right.’ He squeezed her thigh through the sheet and glanced at his watch. ‘Abigail will be…’ His voice trailed off as he stood up, and she watched as the colour drained from his face, as he screwed his eyes closed and sat back down. With mounting alarm she watched as he buried his face in his hands.

  ‘Hunter?’ Appalled, Lily knelt, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, but by then it was over, Hunter shaking his head as if to clear it and even looking faintly embarrassed as he let out a long breath.

  ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ Her voice was urgent even though the moment had passed—the colour in his face normal now, there was even a rueful smile on his lips. But she knew what she’d seen, knew that just a moment ago he’d been about to pass out. ‘Hunter, you should lie down.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘No,’ Lily argued, ‘you’re not. I’ll ring Abigail and tell her you’re taking the day off.’

  ‘Lily.’ He shrugged off concern, fixed her with a stare that told her to stay well back. ‘Now you’re really starting to scare me—you’re actually starting to act like a real wife.’ He flashed her a very on-off smile.

  ‘I’m allowed to worry about you, Hunter,’ Lily argued, refusing to back off, refusing to be silenced. ‘You keep getting these headaches, your schedule’s ridiculous. Sooner or later it has to catch up.’

  ‘Worrying about me isn’t in your job description,’ Hunter broke in, slapping her back with harsh words.

  ‘Oh, that’s right.’ Pulling the sheet around her, Lily headed for the bathroom, his words ricocheting through her, tears appallingly close. She was desperate to get away from him, to break down in private. ‘I’m just the good-time girl—well, excuse me for forgetting.’

  Sitting on the sofa, nursing a mug of coffee, still bristling from his words, Lily stared out at the view. The city was filling with morning traffic, tiny dots of people heading to work, to school. Part of her wished she were among them, wished she were down there, wrestling with the crowds, wished almost that she’d never met Hunter because that would mean she’d never have to miss him.

  And she would miss him.

  Biting on her lips to hold back tears, Lily tried to glimpse her future, tried to imagine a world without Hunter, but it was like driving with the windshield fogging up. Every thought of him that she attempted to wipe away came back thicker and faster, the road ahead almost impossible to envision without this impossible, difficult man in her life.

  It was almost a relief when Abigail arrived.

  Efficient as ever, Abigail stalked into the vast lounge and gave Lily the vaguest of nods as she turned her pussycat smile on Hunter, who was punching two head
ache tablets out of a blister pack.

  ‘Morning, Hunter, you’re looking a bit peaky.’

  ‘Morning, Abigail, you’re sounding a bit grating.’

  At least his poisonous tongue wasn’t solely reserved for her! Hugging her knees, Lily carried on staring out at the view, listening and not reacting as Abigail took him through his appalling schedule for the day—a TV interview in an hour, a board meeting at ten. She wondered how on earth anyone could cram it all on—how anyone could consider it normal.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Abigail checked again as Hunter picked up his briefcase. ‘If you want I can arrange a doctor’s appointment for you, we’ve got a bit of room for manoeuvre around 2 p.m.’

  ‘Just a suggestion,’ Abigail said as Hunter swore under his breath. Clearly she was made of sterner stuff because, unlike Lily, she didn’t fly off to the bathroom in tears, just laughed as they headed out of the door. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a hangover.’

  He didn’t even bother to kiss her as he left and Lily couldn’t even look up and say goodbye either. How long she sat there she wasn’t sure—certainly long enough for Hunter to make it to the TV studios because, staring in recognition, she turned to the screen as his rich deep voice reached her ears, those dark eyes flirting with a million stay-at-home wives as he somehow put the sex into the ASX. Even the interviewer was blushing beneath her heavy foundation as she congratulated him on his recent nuptials!

  ‘It was a very sudden wedding,’ she said. ‘Was there any reason for the haste?’

  ‘I’m used to making snap decisions.’ Hunter expertly deflected her. ‘And as my track record shows, more often than not I’m right.’

  ‘And yet, despite your success, your new wife is still working…’ she fished, but Hunter gave a seemingly bemused frown, managed, even if it was just for the audience, a dash of political correctness.

  ‘Are you saying you have a problem with married women working?’

  ‘Of course not,’ the interviewer flustered, no doubt envisioning the rating figures dropping behind her frantic eyes. ‘It’s been suggested over the weekend that there might be some more good news forthcoming…’ Her glossy smile was strained, waiting for Hunter to speak, to confirm or deny the pregnancy rumors, but he didn’t even respond, forcing the interviewer to push harder. ‘In the papers on Sunday you would have read—’

  ‘I’ve only been married four weeks.’ Hunter flashed a smile to the camera and surely melted every woman watching. ‘As you’ve needlessly pointed out, my wife has chosen to continue with her career. Now, I’m sure you’re viewers will understand if we have better things to do on our precious weekends than read the papers!’

  ‘Of course,’ she croaked, blushing furiously and shuffling the notes on her lap. ‘I see that your own company’s shares have increased by eight per cent since your marriage. Do you think investor confidence may be up—?’

  ‘Eight point two,’ Hunter interrupted. ‘My company’s shares are up by eight point two per cent. So clearly investors have every reason to feel confident.’ There was a smile on his face, but his eyes had a warning glint in them, as if daring the interviewer to go on, challenging her to cross the line and delve into his private life further.

  She didn’t!

  ‘Well, congratulations,’ she offered again, ‘on both counts.’

  God, he was good! Even in her annoyance Lily couldn’t fail to be impressed—that interviewer hadn’t stood a chance. Still, the scrutiny unnerved Lily. It was OK for Hunter—he was used to having cameras trained on him, used to dealing with publicity and innuendo. Not only was she having to deal with the shock in the glossies that Hunter Myles had married a nobody, now they were suggesting…

  Like a switch turning up the heat, the vague disquiet that till now had been bubbling unacknowledged seared into the boil of panic—the throw-away comment Hunter had made about her being pregnant jarring at her very core.

  She couldn’t be!

  On shaky legs Lily headed for bag, pulled out her organiser and forced herself to face an issue she’d been desperately trying to avoid.

  The exquisitely tender boobs, bursting into tears at the drop of a hat, almost fainting at Emma’s recital…

  She was on the Pill, for heaven’s sake, Lily reassured herself as her manicured fingers flicked the pages. They’d only had unprotected sex once and she’d had her period almost straight afterwards.

  Her fingers flicked over the pages, checking and checking again, her teeth working her bottom lip as she counted down the time since her last period…six weeks ago!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WERE you asleep?’ Flicking on the light, Hunter sat on the edge of the bed as Lily lay there, trying to accustom her eyes to the light.

  ‘Well, it is after one,’ Lily said, peering at the bedside clock and deliberately yawning. He’d rung to say he was on his way home around nine, but by eleven, when even if there had been an accident, surely the police would have managed to inform her, she had taken herself and what she hoped was her overactive imagination to bed with a good book. After Hunter’s harsh words that morning, she’d absolutely refused to play the part of the worried wife or aggrieved lover and ring to check where he was—and she was so glad she had. Hunter actually looked a bit put out as he undressed, but he didn’t bother to climb into the bed, instead lying shamelessly on the top and, as was his usual style, completely oblivious to the ungodly hour, turning on a CD. Picking up her book, he started to skim-read a few pages. ‘Do anything nice today?’

  ‘Lots,’ Lily answered brightly. ‘I had a meeting at the centre—turned down the opportunity to start up a support group for teenagers recovering from eating disorders. In fact, I was the perfect little wife today. I took myself shopping and needlessly spent lots of your lovely money, then went and had a facial and pedicure. Oh, and I didn’t worry about you a single bit.’ Nothing could have been further from the truth! She’d spent the entire day drenched in her own anxiety, hanging around the chemist at the shopping centre like a sixteen-year-old boy attempting to purchase condoms, Hunter’s warning about the ever-present paparazzi making her too paranoid to buy a simple pregnancy test. So instead the afternoon had been spent surfing the net, trying to find out the early symptoms of pregnancy, each site she visited either reassuring or confusing her till she given in and, as if she’d been visiting some torrid website, carefully deleted her user history, so Hunter wouldn’t be able to see which websites she’d visited. The only money she’d spent today was on the fabulous book he was holding in his hands, but she wasn’t going to tell him that!

  ‘Oh, and I’ve seen a fabulous picture I’d like for the entrance hall,’ Lily added.

  ‘Good girl.’ Hunter grinned at her facetiousness and squeezed her thigh through the sheet as he read on. ‘Now you’re getting the idea. Oh, and you need a new dress for the ball.’

  ‘I’ve got a wardrobe of new dresses,’ Lily pointed out. ‘What’s it in aid of?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The ball?’

  His hands stopped halfway through turning a page.

  ‘What charity is it?’

  ‘Spinal injuries.’ Hunter shrugged and carried on reading.

  ‘Oh!’ Lily stared over at him, waiting for him to elaborate. They’d been to so many events. More often than not Lily didn’t know what she was dressing for till Hunter picked up his car keys or summoned his driver, but, given Emma’s injuries, she’d at least have expected a touch more interest. ‘Is Emma going?’

  ‘Why would she?’ Hunter glanced over, his voice suddenly scathing. ‘As the token victim, she’s got a bit more style than that.’

  ‘I was just…’ Her voice trailed off, her nose wrinkling in concentration as she remembered a half-forgotten conversation when they’d first met.

  ‘Is this the big charity ball you were talking about when we first met the one you’re organising?’

  ‘I told you it was.’

  ‘No
, Hunter.’ Lily shook her head. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘You didn’t actually turn them down?’ Hunter stared over at her bemused frown. ‘The support group…’

  ‘I said I’d think about it,’ Lily answered tactfully.

  ‘You don’t have to defer to me…’ Hunter turned his attention back to the book, seemingly nonchalant, but she knew how hard it was for him to say the words. ‘If you think you should do it, go for it.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘This is actually a good book,’ Hunter commented without looking up, completely changing the subject. ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Lily frowned, her mind trying to gather all the snippets of information he constantly blasted her with, trying to keep track of his endless threads of conversation and somehow piece them together.

  ‘What happened to her? I can’t make it out.’

  Only then did she realise he was talking about the book, and she let out a tiny incredulous laugh ‘You haven’t read the beginning and you probably won’t read the end…’

  ‘So?’

  ‘You can’t just open up and demand to know what’s happened. You’re supposed to read the whole thing—it’s like walking in on the last five minutes of a film and asking for the entire plot!’

  ‘And what’s so wrong with that?’ Hunter frowned. ‘So are you going to tell me?’

  ‘No.’ Lily let out an irritated sigh. ‘Because I actually don’t know what happened to her. That’s what I’ve been up half the night trying to find out.’

  ‘So you’ve no idea!’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re up to page 242 and you still don’t know!’ He carried on reading, his curiosity piqued now, at least for a little while. Lily stared over at him. Even after a month his beauty still astonished her, his restless splendour as he lay beside her still drawing her in. But it wasn’t just his looks or his touch that enthralled her, it was the man she hadn’t yet met that really kept her captivated, the man that slowly, painfully slowly was being revealed to her: the flashes of just plain niceness that utterly disarmed her; the dry humour that could always foster a smile. And the gentler side, too, that occasionally she was privy to. Every now and then she was treated to a glimpse of what it could be like to be truly adored by a man like Hunter—and it made her yearn for more, yearn for the man she was sure was there behind the expensive suit and snobby derisive voice.