A Negotiated Marriage

by Noelle Adams

  “Do you need a doctor?” Luke was sizing up her injuries again with almost clinical detachment.

  “No.” Molly managed to straighten up and release Baron’s arm. When she took a step away from him, however, the muscle in her thigh grabbed and she lurched slightly.

  She grabbed Luke’s arm, since his was somehow most readily available. She peered up at him, but instead of looking at her with even the tiniest bit of sympathy—which would have been the natural response—his expression was chilly and disapproving.

  She scowled at her husband. She didn’t feel good, and he was being an ass.

  “Thanks, Baron,” she said, managing a smile for him. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can arrange a meeting to wrap things up.”

  Baron nodded, a strange expression on his face. If she didn’t know better, she would have said it was possessive, territorial. That obviously couldn’t be right, though. “Take care of yourself. Try not to get chased by any law-enforcement types.”

  Molly sucked in a sharp gasp of annoyance when she felt Luke tense up beside her. Why the hell had Baron said it like that? She changed her smile at him to a scowl, since now both men were being asses.

  “Lyons,” Baron said, with a nod toward Luke. He didn't extend a hand, which was a good thing, since Molly wasn’t sure Luke would have taken it. “Be nice to her. She’s had a rough night.”

  “I have not had a rough night,” Molly objected, annoyed because she felt Luke tense up even more at Baron’s words. “It’s been a perfectly normal night.”

  True or not, her objection didn’t matter, since Baron was on his way out of the hotel lobby.

  “They put my things in your room,” Luke said in a low voice. “But, if you’d rather, I can have them move us to a larger suite.”

  She knew exactly what he meant. The larger suite would consist of two bedrooms, which was their normal arrangement. She felt like a popped balloon, though—like all the energy and strength had left her body and all she could do was droop. There was no way she could wait while the hotel staff prepared a new suite for them and moved their luggage into it. “My room’s fine. Can we please just go up?”

  If she didn't get out of the lobby soon, she was going to scream.

  In the elevator, she was able to prop herself up on the brass rail, so she didn’t have to lean against Luke quite so heavily. Part of her wanted to lean against him—since he felt warm and strong and hard when she felt so absurdly weak—but she leaned against the rail instead.

  Luke didn’t speak again until they’d made it to her floor and entered her room. It featured elegant furniture, a nice-sized sitting area, and a king-sized bed with a crisp white duvet.

  She slumped onto the couch, stifling a moan as she straightened out her legs, a move that painfully stretched her scraped skin and the aching muscle in her thigh. She toed off her shoes and let them drop to the floor.

  She was trying to think of a quick way to explain what had happen when there was a light knock on the door.

  Luke went to open it and accepted the first-aid supplies, which the desk clerk had arranged to have brought up—evidently, without even being asked.

  Luke went into the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth. Then he pulled a chair up beside the couch, sat down, and took one of her scraped up hands.

  His face was still stiff and distant as he started to clean the cuts. “Tell me about why you were chased by a law-enforcement type.”

  Molly was strangely embarrassed about his tending her injuries. Her cheeks warmed and she felt a heavy twisting in her belly. “Baron gave me a job to do,” she said, trying to sound as composed as he did. “I retrieved some information for him tonight. There was a guard.”

  “You broke in somewhere?”

  “Yes.”

  “An office with information important enough to have guards stationed?” Luke rubbed antiseptic wash over her scraped palms, which caused them to sting a little.

  “Just a rent-a-cop. I didn’t know about him. I’d done my homework. The guard must be a new development.”

  “And breaking into an office in the middle of the night was the only way to retrieve this information?”

  Molly felt like huffing at him and telling him to leave her alone, but she did her best to act mature and reasonable, despite the defensiveness she felt. “The only other way to get it would be to go undercover for a couple of months. I wasn’t going to do that.”

  “And refusing to take the job at all wasn’t a possibility, given two poor options for accomplishing it?” He wasn’t looking at her face since he was putting bandages on a few of the spots that were still bleeding on the heel of her hand.

  “My option wasn't a poor one.” She wanted to jerk her hands out of his grip but she didn’t. “This is my job, and I’m good at it.”

  Luke was now looking at her torn sleeve and the deeper cut on her upper arm. Very neatly, he tore the fabric of her sleeve off completely to bare the injury. It had bled a lot more than she’d realized. As he started to clean it up, he said tersely, “I didn’t imply you weren't good at your job, but any option that leaves you injured is a poor one in my book.”

  “I’m not really injured,” she said with a groan of frustration. Luke had never before interfered with her work, and it upset her unduly that he was now. “I just fell down as I was running away.”

  “From the guard?”

  She rolled her eyes and extended her arm as Luke bandaged the cut there. “It sounds worse than it was. Seriously. I’m fine.”

  Luke’s eyes strayed up to her face briefly. He looked down at her torn pants before she could read his expression. “I think you’ll need to take off your pants so I can do your knees.”

  Molly lifted her hips and tugged down her pants, slightly embarrassed when her underwear started to get pulled down with them. As Luke cleaned the scrapes on her knees, she gave herself a firm, silent lecture.

  She was behaving ridiculously. There was no reason to be so emotional and flustered about this whole thing. Things hadn't gone the way they should have on this job—maybe she should have been more careful. It was unfortunate that Luke had arrived just in time to witness it, but it wasn’t all that important.

  There was absolutely no reason for her to feel like hiding under the covers or crying.

  Luke’s hands were steady, and his face was stoic as he tended the last of her cuts. But she knew—she knew very well—that he wasn't happy with her.

  They very rarely argued. They usually got along just fine or else retreated to their separate spaces.

  There were no separate spaces to retreat to in this room.

  “Thank you for your help,” she said at last, when the silence started to overwhelm her. “You didn’t have to…have to do all this.” She gestured down at the scrapes he was tending. “And it was very nice of you. But this is my job. It’s my job. And I really don’t owe you an explanation.”

  He met her eyes steadily for the first time.

  She glanced away. “I didn’t mean that to sound huffy, but our arrangement has never allowed us to interfere in each other’s work. What happened tonight had nothing to do with our marriage.”

  “So the fact that my wife might have been hurt or arrested is genuinely not my concern?” His eyebrows lifted and his lips tightened.

  She knew he was angry.

  Molly was about to explain, to defend her side of the argument, but she was suddenly so exhausted and so upset by everything she couldn't speak. She looked away from him, trying desperately to compose her expression. Desperately trying not to cry.

  “Molly,” Luke began, his voice changing.

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” she burst out. “I really am. I don’t know if I made the right decision—maybe I rushed into the job without enough preparation. I don’t know. I thought it was all worked out, but then it just fell apart.” She had to pause, since she was on the verge of tears. “I’m usually so good at this. I don’t know what happened.”

  L
uke was silent for a moment. Then he murmured, “We can’t control everything.”

  She saw something in his eyes. Proof that he understood. He’d lived through it before too—having everything figured out, everything together, only to watch it slip through his fingers.

  Something in her chest eased, and she gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m not usually this pitiful. It must be the adrenaline fading. Baron was telling me all about it.”

  Luke shook his head as he collected the first-aid supplies and stood up. “I’ll bet he was.” But this time his voice sounded dry, almost normal.

  Relieved by his shift of mood and feeling more like herself, although still utterly exhausted, Molly heaved herself up and went to find some pajamas to wear. It was well after three in the morning.

  She went into the bathroom to get ready for bed and change into the pajamas. When she came out again, she saw that Luke was sitting on the foot of the bed. He had taken off his shoes and socks, his bare feet flat on the carpet, and his shoulders looked more relaxed than they'd been earlier.

  She smiled at him, almost shyly. “I’m going to bed.”

  “I’m going to take a shower first,” he said, standing up. “Go ahead and turn out the light if you want.”

  While Luke went into the bathroom and shut the door, Molly went to get a bottle of expensive water out of the mini-bar. Then she got into the turned-down bed and sighed with satisfaction as she stretched out.

  But she felt some unexpected jitters as she heard Luke’s shower from the bathroom and then the sounds of him getting ready for bed.

  Tonight hadn't gone as she'd expected.

  Molly usually got through her jobs with no problems, and tonight she hadn’t.

  She usually didn’t have serious conflict with Luke, and tonight they had.

  Luke usually didn’t try to interfere with her work in any way, and tonight he had.

  Life usually confirmed to her that she was independent, that her decisions were purely her own to make, and tonight it hadn’t.

  She usually went to sleep in a bed all by herself.

  But tonight she had to share the bed.

  With Luke.

  All in all, it was a very confusing night.

  Six

  Molly was exhausted and drained from the events of the night, but the king-sized bed was large enough to give her plenty of room without feeling like she was right on top of Luke.

  She felt a little odd as Luke came out of the bathroom, turned out the light, and climbed into his side of the bed. The mattress moved when he did, and it was so silent in the room she could hear him breathing. She was tired enough that the strangeness didn’t get in the way of her ability to sleep, though, and she dropped off after just a few minutes.

  She woke up once, and it was still pitch black in the room. Groggy, disoriented, and kind of chilly, she tried to pull the covers up over her more tightly and huddle herself into a ball. When she still felt cold, she scooted over, instinctively seeking heat.

  She found it as she got closer to Luke. He was sound asleep, and his body was generating heat like a radiator. She curled up beside him, immediately warming from the proximity.

  Comfortable and satisfied, she fell right back to sleep.

  She didn’t wake up again until her cozy radiator was trying to pull away from her.

  Grumbling in her sleep at this objectionable occurrence, she clung to the warm body beside her and burrowed her face against it, unwilling to open her eyes and lose her snug spot in the bed.

  Her efforts were to no avail, and she came fully awake as her clinging arm was mercilessly displaced.

  That was when she became aware of the fact that it was Luke’s body beside her. It was Luke’s bare chest she was burrowing her face against. Luke’s tight belly she’d wrapped her arm around in an attempt to keep him in place.

  She lifted her head at the realization, her vision a little fuzzy as she opened her eyes.

  Luke’s legs hung over the side of the bed and his head was lifted from the pillow. He was clearly trying to detach her clinging body in an attempt to get out of the bed.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice a little thick. “I really need to get up. It’s late.”

  “Oh.” She pulled her arm back and rolled away enough to free him. She glanced at the clock as he stood up and saw it was almost nine in the morning.

  It was really late for Luke to be getting up. He was usually up before six.

  “Sorry. I hope you’re not late.” She couldn’t help but admire the strong, graceful lines of his shoulders and chest and the way his torso tapered down to lean hips.

  She blinked when she saw, through the soft fabric of his gray pajama pants, that he was hard, the outline of his erection clearly visible.

  Absurdly, the knowledge embarrassed her a little and, at the same time, excited her.

  She felt warm and comfortable in bed, and it had been a week since they’d had sex.

  “I’m not late,” Luke replied to her comment. “My meeting doesn’t start until ten. Sorry I woke you up.”

  Then, to her disappointment, he took his erection into the bathroom and shut the door.

  She sighed, telling herself to be mature and reasonable. He was here on business—not to have sex with her. She assumed, like other men, he sometimes woke up hard in the morning. He’d probably take care of it in the shower.

  Since there was no pressing reason for her to get up yet, she snuggled under the covers again, thinking it wasn’t quite as cozy without the heat from Luke’s body but it was certainly better than getting up.

  * * *

  It ended up being a long, annoying day.

  It took her forever to arrange to meeting with Baron to wrap up their job. Then it was mid-afternoon, and she had trouble getting a flight back to Toronto that evening. So she just gave up on that plan, deciding she’d fly back with Luke the following day.

  The change of plans wasn't that big a deal. When she called Luke to tell him, he asked if she’d go to dinner with him that evening. He had a business dinner at a swanky restaurant and other spouses were attending.

  Molly had felt out of sorts all day. Partly because of her long, upsetting night. Partly because her injuries—however minor—were hurting. And partly because things just didn't seem to be falling in place like they should. She really didn’t want to get dressed up and pretend to be nice to a bunch of people she didn't know. She didn't even have a decent outfit to wear, since she hadn't brought evening outfits to New York with her.

  She’d had to cancel on the opera with Luke this weekend, however, so it seemed reasonable to help him out with this dinner when she was staying over for the night anyway.

  So she agreed.

  He must have sensed her reluctance. Because he said, in what she considered an unnecessarily snide tone, that she wasn't obliged to go with him if she’d rather not.

  She was obliged to go with him to six social functions a month—that was their agreement—so Molly told him that.

  They ended up in a huge fight on the phone. On top of everything else, Luke had the nerve to bring up—although it was absolutely irrelevant to the topic at hand—the way she’d lied to him the night before about staying in her room.

  It was the worst fight they’d had in the three years they’d been married and, when Molly hung up thirty-five minutes later, she was nearly in tears.

  She stopped at the dress shop on the ground floor of the hotel and quickly found something appropriate to wear that evening. When she returned to the hotel room, she decided to take a shower since she felt hot and sticky and generally infuriated with the world. She cried a little in the shower, mostly just a release of emotion. Then she put on a t-shirt and sweats and crawled into bed.

  Since she had nothing else she needed to do until they went out that evening, she took a two-hour nap.

  She felt a lot better when she woke up. Much more rested, as if she’d finally recovered from the night before. Her body didn’t ac
he as much, and all of the world’s annoyances—particularly Luke—didn’t seem quite so maddening and perplexing.

  After a minute of assessing her mood and the condition of her body, she opened her eyes, surprised to see that Luke was in the room.

  He was at the desk in the sitting area, working on his laptop. He looked like he’d had a long, hot, frustrating day as well. His suit jacket and tie were flung heedlessly on the couch, his dress shirt was wrinkled with a damp spot in the middle of his back, his sleeves were pushed up haphazardly, and his posture was a little hunched.

  For some reason, seeing him like that dispersed the last of her annoyance from before. His day had obviously been just as bad as hers. Plus, he hadn’t gotten to take a nap.

  She watched him for a couple of minutes before he glanced over at her. His expression changed when he saw she was awake.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.” His gaze was quiet as it rested on her. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Yeah. Just tired and blah. I feel better now. Sorry I got so mad before.”

  “Me too.”

  “You look tired. You should have taken a nap too.”

  He gave a huff of amusement. “Maybe next time. Are you up to going out this evening?”

  “Yeah. It's really fine. I took a shower earlier and I bought something to wear. I can get ready in about twenty minutes. What time do we need to leave?”

  “Not for another hour.”

  “Okay.” She wondered if he was still a little mad at her, despite their mutual apology. She couldn’t really tell from his composed expression or his posture. “Then I won’t have to move for a little while.”

  Luke gave her a slight smile and returned to his laptop.

  Molly watched him discreetly, feeling a familiar surge of desire as her eyes lingered on his handsome features, his strong body, and his hot, rumpled appearance.

  They had time for sex before dinner, but she supposed it wasn’t the best time to suggest it, since they’d had that big fight and he didn’t appear to be in the mood.

  She couldn't stop thinking about sex, though, so she was rather restless and uncomfortable when Luke got up a half-hour later to take a shower before he got ready for dinner.