He’d expected martyrdom to strike in the marital bed tonight, yet there wasn’t a trace of that.
Merida had been on a slow burn all day, with endless kisses that had clouded her mind, and it was a relief simply to give in to the constant push-pull of desire.
Later she would think, fathom how to proceed, but all Merida knew was that she needed him badly tonight.
They were all entwined limbs and searching tongues, and she was ready when he entered her slick warmth.
He took her as he would have the first time, had Merida not told him she was a virgin. Oh, not against the wall... But she was the first woman in this bed and he took her hot and hard against the mattress, wrapping her legs around his loins and driving hard.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MERIDA AWOKE IN a vast empty bed.
Today their brief honeymoon ended and Ethan returned to work. They hadn’t really left the bed, apart from brief trips to the fridge or to shower or bathe together.
It was just after six in the morning and there was a feeling of decadence in her even before she opened her eyes. There were rings on her finger and between her legs she was tender and she was Ethan Devereux’s wife.
And a mother-to-be.
She lay on her back, and that flutter she had felt on her wedding day was back. Her hand cupped her stomach, but there was nothing she could feel with her hand.
Unsure of what to do, Merida got out of bed. On the rare occasions she’d half dressed over the past day or so, it had been in his shirts. Her wedding dress still lay on the floor, but she rescued the pale silk slip she had worn beneath and put it on.
This was home.
Not that she knew the address.
Merida wandered around.
The view was stunning. From every window there was a picture-postcard view of Manhattan but she had no real idea of where she was.
Ethan disorientated her.
Not deliberately—she got that. But from the day they had met he had upended her world like a snow globe and she kept waiting for the glitter to settle.
She came to the kitchen, which looked like something from a magazine—all gleaming appliances and in the centre a huge black wood table.
It was as male as a kitchen could be.
She opened up the fridge. There were some of the platters he’d had sent in from Barnaby’s that they had made good inroads into, and there was a carton of juice and some milk.
She poured some juice and then settled down to read the huge influx of messages on her phone, from friends clearly surprised by the wedding.
And not just old ones.
Reece was suddenly terribly gushing, and even Anton, who’d been furious with her when she’d left the show, had sent his congratulations and a cryptic message.
I get it now.
Merida frowned, not really understanding, but then it dawned on her—Anton now understood why she was keeping the baby. Because it was Ethan Devereux’s.
It rattled her, and Merida swiftly swiped to the next message.
It was from Naomi, asking that she call her, and adding, I hope the press hasn’t upset you too much.
And so, of course, Merida went straight to the news.
They’d avoided all that yesterday, and simply spent the day in bed, but today the real world was creeping in.
Devereux Gold!
She looked at a picture of herself and Ethan on the court house steps and read the little caption about the bride wearing gold and how much the colour suited her.
It wasn’t actually said, but the implication was clear. They were calling her a gold-digger.
She read on a little, about her ‘failed acting career’, and wanted to dispute what was said. But there was nowhere for her to do so, and she clicked to the next headline.
A Very Sudden Wedding
In this picture the wind had caught at her dress, and for all the world to see there was the visible reason for their marriage.
‘Ignore them.’
She looked up and there was Ethan. He was wearing grey track pants and a grey top and was breathless. And in that moment she learned two new things about her new husband.
That he ran in the morning before he went to work. And that he looked gorgeous even sweaty and dishevelled.
‘They’ve painted me as a gold-digger,’ Merida said.
‘Oh, well.’ He shrugged, and then opened his mouth to make a flip comment about occasionally the press getting things right. But perhaps wisely he chose not to exercise his black humour.
‘Is that all you have to say?’
‘Merida.’ Annoyingly calm, he responded, ‘If I have to give my in-depth thoughts on every headline I appear in then we’re in for some long breakfasts.’
‘They’re saying that I’m pregnant.’
‘Well, you are.’ He shrugged again.
‘Our child might one day read this,’ Merida said. ‘They’re insinuating that you married me because of the baby...’ Her breath caught—because, well, he had—but she pushed on. ‘And that I’m nothing more than a gold-digger and a failed actress. Where did they get that?’
‘I have no idea,’ Ethan said. ‘Though I shall have a word with Howard. He should have known better than to put you in a gold dress. A five-year-old could have seen where that would lead.’
And that, according to Ethan, was the end of that, only it wasn’t enough for Merida.
‘Do you think I’m a gold-digger, Ethan?’
She was brave enough to ask it outright, and when their eyes met he gave her a very honest answer.
‘I don’t care.’
He didn’t.
The ‘i’s were dotted the ‘t’s were crossed and to Ethan the whys and wherefores just didn’t matter, because right now they could simply enjoy it all.
And he did enjoy her.
All of her.
He’d thought their marriage would be a disaster, but two days in he was coming around.
Not only was the sex brilliant, but he liked their conversations. The way she challenged his assumptions, the way she had popped into his head mid-run and he’d raced to get back.
There was a connection—he could feel it—and he’d never really known that before.
‘Come on,’ he said, assuming the conversation was over. ‘I’ll show you around before I get ready.’
‘I’ve had a look,’ Merida said, but she knew she was being a misery and so she stood. ‘I ought to tidy up...’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Rita will be in today. I suddenly thought, when I was running,’ Ethan said as they headed out of the kitchen, ‘that if something happened to you, you wouldn’t be able to give your address.’ He told her, ‘You’re just around the corner from your old workplace and a couple of blocks down from Jobe.’
‘Do you see him much?’
‘Every day at work,’ Ethan said as he showed her around. ‘Don’t worry, he won’t be dropping round...’
‘I don’t mind,’ Merida said. ‘I like him.’
The lower floor of the apartment contained a large south-facing lounge and it was Merida’s favourite, with jade curtains and gorgeous dark silk rugs and walls. The area was vast enough to easily carry it off. There was also a large dining room, with a gleaming table, and a library, as well as an office and two guest bedrooms.
They walked back up to the master suite. ‘Call Howard,’ Ethan said. ‘I’ve told him to expect you. He can help you with clothes and things.’
‘Clothes?’
‘You arrived with one suitcase,’ Ethan pointed out, just as Merida found out that the master suite didn’t actually take up the entire top floor. Down the long hallway they came to a double door that Merida hadn’t seen before.
Behind it was a small set of stairs, which they climbed. They came to a large empty room, with sk
ylights, and Merida looked around and admired the stunning space.
Ethan admired her.
The sun streaming in caught her hair, and she was clearly naked beneath the sheer slip.
‘It’s gorgeous, Ethan,’ Merida said. ‘How come it’s empty?’
‘I never quite knew what to do with it,’ he admitted. ‘I was thinking that the nanny and the baby can go up here.’
‘The nanny?’
‘Of course.’
‘Ethan, there’s no need for a nanny—’
‘Merida,’ he cut it. ‘When I’m not in the Middle East I have commitments four or five evenings a week. For at least half of them you’ll be expected to join me. And you’ll have lunches and functions to attend. Not too many at first, but the Devereux family supports a lot of arts and various charities. You’ll need a nanny. And,’ he added, ‘once you’re gone so shall I.’
He just dropped the fact that their marriage was temporary into the conversation as easily as that. As if she was a weather front passing through, strewing babies in her wake and then rolling on.
‘There’s more than enough room for a nanny and the baby up here,’ Ethan said, ‘as well as a decent-sized playroom. But I’ll leave it to you. And don’t worry,’ he added. ‘I shan’t be making the same mistake as my father.’
For the first time he addressed extensive rumours.
‘Nannies really aren’t my thing.’
His words were flippant and light, but Merida could see the tension in his jaw, and there was a flicker of muscle in his cheek.
‘Are you ever going to forgive him?’ Merida asked. ‘Ethan, it was years ago.’
‘Yes, my mother’s been in the ground for twenty-five years, to be precise.’
He would say no more than that on the subject, and turned the conversation back to the space in which they stood, waving a dismissive hand at the skylights. ‘Just enjoy yourself with it.’
‘What? Decorating your apartment and hiring your nanny?’
He didn’t react to her sarcasm. Instead he headed back down the stairs.
‘I’ll get some designers in,’ he said. ‘Whatever you think will work.’
They were back in the kitchen now, and he looked at her, at her knot of hair and at that slip that clung to her body. He walked over and held her by the arms, and for the second time in his life—and it only happened when Merida was present—he was tempted not to go to work.
Merida looked at Ethan as he held her, and she could feel the shift—not only in him but in her. She was so easily turned on by his gaze.
‘I’ve got to get ready,’ he told her, and Merida nodded.
His eyes asked if she was coming upstairs to join him in the shower, but Merida declined with two words. ‘Then go.’
She was hurting, bruised by his reference to her leaving and the fact that he simply didn’t care if she was here for the money or not.
Yet his dirty kiss and primed body turned her to liquid and, pressed against the bench, she was putty in his skilled hands.
He was so rangy and potent—so ready at any given moment to take her.
‘Come on, Merida...’ he said, his hand gliding between her thighs to where she was warm and damp.
‘You’ve got to get ready.’
She didn’t shove him off, just gave a slight push to his chest, but it was contrary to all the time they had spent together so far.
There was a slight narrowing of his eyes as he tried to interpret this shift in her, but he soon headed up the stairs and descended only a short while later.
He looked exquisite, Merida thought as she stood, leaning against the bench, nursing a coffee she had made.
His hair was damp, but fell into perfect shape, and he was clean-shaven and wearing a hefty dose of that gorgeous cologne.
He cursed as he read his phone. ‘I’ve got to go.’
He was back to being the businessman she had first met, but he removed her coffee from her to give her a kiss and a decent squeeze of her bottom, which rather told her that he would take up from where they had left off when he got home later.
‘Don’t go getting dressed, now,’ Ethan said with a light tease, but he did not see the dangerous glint in Merida’s eyes.
She heard the door close and finally, after the shock of his proposal, their whirlwind wedding and two days spent in bed, the glitter seemed to settle and Merida took in her surroundings.
She stood in a loveless marriage.
Well, not loveless. She was crazy about Ethan. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, then that was what had happened to her.
Except he didn’t want a bar of it.
She could not spend a year on call to him. Could not keep giving herself to him over and over, with no reward for her heart.
A loveless marriage could only work, Merida decided, if there was no love on either side. But a regular dose of unrequited love might very nearly kill her.
It was making love to her, and just sex to him.
Never mind the turmoil she felt, or her feelings for him, to Ethan this was no more than a business transaction with sex thrown in.
But no more.
Their earlier conversation wasn’t over.
If Ethan thought he had a gold-digger for a wife, then she would act like one.
Merida was new to all this, so she did a quick tidy-up before Rita arrived, then showered and looked at the few clothes she had with her.
She would need a lot more than her lucky kilt to survive this.
Merida called Howard and got to work. Or rather, the work of being a Devereux wife.
* * *
Ethan came home at seven to a gorgeous wife—though he rather missed the curls. She was dressed in a simple grey shift and there was the scent of beef bourguignon from Barnaby’s wafting through the stunning apartment.
The table was set and they took their seats.
‘Anton Del Bosco got in touch,’ Ethan said. ‘It was noted that I’d left during the first half of Night Forest and he’s invited us both to attend another performance.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘We have to do this sort of thing, Merida,’ Ethan stated.
‘Well, I’d prefer not to go and see the show I had to bow out of,’ Merida said. ‘How was the rest of your day?’
‘Long,’ he admitted. ‘I need a very early night.’
Merida nodded. ‘Well, I shan’t be disturbing you—I’ve moved my things into the front guest room.’
‘The front guest room?’
‘It’s a bit bigger than the other one, and I like—’
‘What the hell are you going on about?’ Ethan interrupted.
‘I think we should have separate rooms.’
He must have thought she was joking, because for a moment he smiled.
‘I’m serious, Ethan. I’ll tell Rita that the front guest room is being refurbished and keep it locked when she’s here.’
Merida had thought it all through. She simply could not give of herself—give her heart—night after night after night, to a man who thought so little of her. She could not count down the days until it was all over.
‘The marriage is consummated,’ Merida told him, and went on with what she had decided. ‘I’ll attend all the necessary functions, and I’ll sort out the nanny’s area and the nursery, and have everything running smoothly for the baby before I’m gone.’
Merida would take her role seriously. She would be the perfect Devereux wife. But she would never for a moment forget the reason she was here.
She carried Devereux property.
That was it.
‘I’ll do everything that’s stated in the contract, and everything that you pay me to do I’ll do well, but I won’t be your whore for a year,’ Merida said.
She put down her kn
ife and fork and excused herself from the table.
‘We sleep separately from now on.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MERIDA PERFORMED BEAUTIFULLY in her new role.
If there was ever to be an award for Contracted Wives then it would go to Ms Merida Cartwright—which was now her defunct stage name.
She and Ethan were seen out, holding hands at intimate dinners, Merida elegant and coiffed as she gazed adoringly into his eyes. They attended formal functions with Merida blending in accordingly. Her growing bump was perfectly dressed in shades of black, powder-blue and silver-grey, and she had a whole row of various shades of neutral shoes.
‘Let the eyes fall on the diamonds.’ That was Howard’s favourite tip, and Merida always smiled when he said that and thanked him.
She did, however, resist Howard’s strong suggestion that she get foils to tame her red mane at least down to a strawberry blonde. But she had a blow dry on alternate days and her hair was always sleek and smooth.
And Ethan was the perfect gentleman.
Well, he was a rather sullen perfect gentleman. But he’d gone into this with very low expectations of marriage and theirs didn’t disappoint.
He felt he understood now the concept of the ‘honeymoon period’, because for all of two days it had been bliss.
But it was a marriage of convenience, and if sex wasn’t on her agenda then his wrist would just have to suffice.
He was way too suave to cajole her.
And as for Merida...?
She tended to sleep in on weekday mornings. It possibly wasn’t very wifely, but he was off and running around six, then out through the door just after seven—and she was seven months pregnant, after all.
As for the renovations... Who knew? But Merida found she had a hidden skill and was utterly brilliant at spending Ethan’s money.
‘They’re going to take out the floor and the stairs,’ Merida explained one evening as they headed to his father’s. ‘And the wall on...’ She hesitated, mindful of the driver.
Neither of them wanted it getting out that they slept in separate rooms.
Rita the housekeeper no doubt knew, but Ethan paid enough for her discretion.
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