Marrying the Enemy

by Nicola Marsh

She inwardly shuddered, not daring to contemplate what would happen to Sapphie if Seaborn’s went under.

  She eased her hand out of his on the pretext of picking up her latte. ‘Save it for the honeymoon. For now, we have details to work out.’

  ‘There’s going to be a honeymoon?’

  His silky smooth tone rippled over her in an invisible caress and she resisted the urge to rub her arms.

  ‘Only if you’re lucky.’ She sipped at her coffee, the slight bitterness matching her mood.

  Teasing was good. Teasing kept her mind off the constant niggle that what they were doing was plain wrong.

  What would it be like to be sitting here discussing marriage plans with a real fiancé? A guy she adored, a guy she loved, a guy she couldn’t live without?

  She’d known it would happen some nebulous day in the future but now her dreams of a fairy-tale wedding wouldn’t happen.

  Even if she met the one at some stage, her second marriage would always be that: second. She’d be a divorcee who’d sold out on romance.

  But it was for a good cause. A great cause, and she couldn’t lose sight of that.

  ‘A honeymoon would add to the authenticity,’ he said, stating a fact she’d already contemplated.

  And discarded. It would be hard enough pretending they were married without going away with him on some romantic jaunt.

  She wasn’t a complete fool. They shared an attraction. They might end up having sex. Scintillating, spectacular sex if that kiss had been a prelude, damn her impulsiveness.

  However, sex to consummate the marriage was a far cry from a decadent few days away, probably in some posh hotel or lush surroundings, indulging their passion.

  It wasn’t the honeymoon she was worried about as much as the aftermath.

  What would happen when they returned? Would they fall into a routine? Marriage with fringe benefits without the emotional entanglements?

  Sounded reasonable in theory. In practice? It’d suck.

  She didn’t want to get close to him, didn’t want to risk complicating their business-deal marriage with sex.

  The guy’s rigid self-control would ensure he remained emotionally distant but could she remain indifferent to his many charms?

  She was renowned in her family for throwing herself into any project, committing one hundred per cent. Mentally, it made sense to commit to this marriage. Emotionally, she’d be a fool to consider it.

  It’d be so much easier to be like him. Closed off. It was probably a learned response: ashamed of his jailbird dad, detached from people, putting up a tough-guy front.

  Her mum had been like that. The quintessential matriarch who’d lost her husband far too young and had emotionally closed down because of it.

  Not that Mathilda had been a bad mum, she’d just been so focused on Seaborn’s she’d often had little energy left for her daughters.

  Sapphie hadn’t minded; she’d been Mum’s protégé, groomed to take over. And while Ruby preferred to fly under the radar, every now and then when she glimpsed Mathilda and Saph with their heads bent close, poring over catalogues, she’d wished her mum would acknowledge she was more than just a ditzy designer.

  Cutting her out when it counted most proved it.

  And it hurt, damn it, it hurt deep.

  Her mum should’ve trusted her and told her the truth about Seaborn’s before she died, and should definitely never have made Sapphie promise not to tell her either.

  She was more than an airhead who swanned through life playing with gems and dating easy-going creative types like her.

  And the fact she’d fostered that image to a degree, content not to assume too much responsibility, rankled.

  It was what drove her every day since Sapphie had been forced to confide in her before heading off to the health farm to recuperate.

  It was what had driven her to propose to Jax in the first place.

  She’d do whatever it took to save Seaborn’s and prove to everyone, particularly herself, she was more than a flaky lightweight.

  ‘Let’s worry about the honeymoon later.’ Much later. Like never. ‘For now, we need to co-ordinate tasks.’

  She held her breath, expecting him to push the honeymoon issue, relieved when he slid out his mobile instead.

  ‘I’ll take care of the marriage licence and registry office.’ He started tapping out a to-do list. ‘What about witnesses? I can ask my manager, Murray. Is there anyone you have?’

  Her submerged bitterness surged again and she swallowed. In an ideal world her sister would be beside her on the momentous day. But circumstances weren’t ideal and she was doing the best she could.

  ‘Yeah, my cousin Opal.’

  ‘Okay.’ He paused, his thumb poised over the keypad. ‘Will your sister be there?’

  She bristled, not wanting to discuss Sapphie’s condition with a virtual stranger. A stranger she was about to marry. Sheesh.

  ‘No.’

  He touched the back of her hand, and she carefully placed the latte glass on a saucer before clasping her hands in her lap.

  She didn’t want his sympathy. She wanted his cooperation in ensuring this wedding went as smoothly as possible so she could get back to the task of saving Seaborn’s.

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really.’ She pointed at his phone. ‘Type into that thing: “I’ll take care of the wedding, leave the reception to Ruby”.’

  ‘Reception?’

  His eyebrows shot so high, as if she’d announced he’d be waltzing up the aisle naked.

  ‘We’re having a quickie wedding at the registry office. Do you really think the people you want to schmooze in this city will accept this marriage if we don’t throw some whiz-bang party?’

  He threw the phone on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  ‘I’m not the whiz-bang party type.’

  ‘Too bad. You want doors to open for you in the corporate sector? You have to get to know these people socially. What schools their kids attend. What holiday spots float their boat. What golf courses they frequent.’

  She entwined her index and third finger. ‘They’re like this, a clique. I’ve been raised in those circles and have seen what they do to outsiders, let alone someone with...’

  ‘My background?’ He spat the words out.

  ‘Yeah.’

  She wished she could sugar-coat this, or know the exact words to ease the obvious burden he carried around because of his dad. But she’d been nothing but blunt with him so far; there was no use changing the habits of a lifetime now.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you, Jax, if you want to make inroads with this crowd, lose the attitude. You’re Denver Maroney’s son, so what? You’re a successful businessman, you own a flourishing mine, you’re nothing like your dad. So quit glaring at anyone who approaches within two feet, lose the chip factory on your shoulders and start lightening up.’

  ‘Chip factory? Funny. But can you deliver?’

  ‘Deliver what?’

  ‘Everything a marriage entails.’

  She reached for her latte, belatedly realising she’d finished it. ‘You mean—’

  ‘Sex.’ He didn’t blink or look away, his cool, calm, rational declaration hanging in the air between them. ‘We’ve joked about it but just so you know—’ he placed both palms on the table and leaned forward ‘—I don’t play games. We get married, we’re monogamous. No fooling around.’

  His intent rammed home the seriousness of their situation as nothing else could.

  Once she said ‘I do’, she’d have to say ‘I don’t’ to so many things she valued: her freedom, her spontaneity to go out all hours and answer to no one, her casual flirting with guys who didn’t threaten or bamboozle or confuse.

  Jeez, she sure hoped Sapphie appreciated the sacrifice she was making for the sake of their beloved company.

  He misread her silence, and probably her horrified expression too, sitting back abruptly.

  ‘Don’t worry,
despite what I intimated at the races, it’s not for ever. Once we get what we both want, this ridiculous marriage is finished.’

  His honesty didn’t scare her.

  The unexpected hurt slashing through their best-laid plans did.

  CHAPTER SIX

  OPAL indicated and pulled over, waiting for a rare parking spot in the CBD. ‘What’s going on?’

  Ruby had asked herself the same question many times over the last week. Sadly, she was no closer to an answer, other than being responsible for the future of Seaborn’s sucked.

  ‘When I said we were heading into town for an afternoon cocktail party, I lied.’

  ‘Thought so.’ Opal reverse parked, cut the engine and cast a critical glance at her cousin’s alabaster silk sheath and the luminous pearls at her ears and neck. ‘You’re never this nervous about attending a party so I knew it had to be more.’

  Ruby smoothed her dress for the hundredth time. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘You’re scaring me.’ Opal’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘It’s not Sapphie, is it? Is something wrong and you’re not telling me?’

  Ruby shook her head, hating she’d made her cousin worry for nothing. ‘Saph’s fine.’

  But I’m not. I’m about to marry a stranger.

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘There’s no party today.’ She pointed at the beautiful stone building at the end of the block. ‘We’re headed to the registry office.’

  Confusion creased Opal’s brow. ‘Is someone we know getting married?’

  Wishing the butterflies practising the bridal waltz in her belly would stop, she nodded.

  ‘Me,’ she blurted, watching her cousin’s confusion turn to horror.

  ‘What? Who...? Why...?’

  Opal rubbed her temples, as if staving off a headache. Ruby knew the feeling.

  ‘I’m marrying Jax Maroney in half an hour.’

  It sounded even more ludicrous out loud and she was glad they hadn’t left the car because, by her pallor, her cousin would’ve keeled over in shock if she weren’t sitting.

  Opal opened and closed her mouth several times before speaking. ‘I don’t understand.’

  This would be the hardest part, lying to her cousin. But she’d agreed with Jax: no one, not even their closest relatives, could know the truth. Less likelihood of their fake marriage leaking to those who could use it against them.

  Ruby took a deep breath, hoping her high school drama classes were good for something.

  ‘We met in Broome when I popped over for that pearl expo, and have been doing the long-distance thing ever since.’

  Opal wasn’t buying it, if her narrowed eyes and compressed lips were any indication. ‘Why the heck didn’t you say something?’

  Luckily, she’d prepared this answer too. ‘Because his mine is driving us out of business. Sapphie would kill me if she knew.’

  Understanding flared in Opal’s eyes. ‘That’s why you’re doing this. For the business,’ she said, so softly Ruby had to lean forward to hear.

  The truth lodged in her throat, dying to spill out, but she’d agreed to keep this need-to-know, namely between her pretend groom and her.

  ‘It seemed the right time to take our relationship to the next level.’

  Not a bald lie, just a twisting of the truth. It was time to take her relationship with Jax to the next level to get him to back off on his takeover bid and give Seaborn’s a chance to shine again.

  Tears glistened in Opal’s uncertain gaze. ‘I think you’re amazing, and if you ever need me, I’m here.’

  ‘Thanks, sweetie.’

  They hugged and Ruby sent a silent prayer heavenward that the first tough task for the day was done.

  When they pulled apart Ruby braced for the next. ‘There’s one more thing—’

  Opal’s eyes flew to her belly. ‘You’re not pregnant?’

  Hell no. As if this bizarre situation weren’t complicated enough, she’d make sure if she slept with Jax they were well protected.

  That one little word taunted her. If...

  Maybe she’d been so caught up in lying to everyone she was starting to lie to herself now?

  Considering the underlying buzz of attraction between them, that if was looking mighty shaky.

  Jax had made it perfectly clear he wouldn’t mind sex as part of their arrangement. She’d refused. Easy in theory. But could she hold out once that ring slipped on her finger and they had to act all cosy? Damn, that if was in serious danger of morphing into when.

  ‘No, not preggers, but it’s something almost as serious.’

  Opal grabbed hold of her hand. ‘What?’

  ‘You can’t tell Sapphie about this.’

  Opal released her hand as if she’d asked her to lie to the pope.

  ‘’Til after I’m married,’ she amended and Opal sagged in relief. ‘I’m heading up to visit her and tell her the good news as soon as the ceremony’s over.’

  Opal searched her face for answers she had no intention of giving. ‘You sure about this?’

  Ruby nodded. ‘I’m getting married in thirty minutes.’ And nothing, not even those butterflies trading a waltz for a stomping hoedown in her belly, would stop her. ‘Let’s go.’

  Opal sighed but wisely kept the rest of her far too astute observations to herself as Ruby checked her make-up and hair in the rear-view mirror.

  In reality, she didn’t care how she looked. The tonged curls carelessly arranged in a loose bun on top of her head leaving tendrils loose, the cosmetic-counter department-store make-up job, the classic sheath and matching shoes, were nothing but props for the performance of her life. Adjuncts to a sham she’d have to perpetuate to benefit them all: Sapphie, Opal and all the employees and their families that had worked at the Seaborn mine for decades.

  She could do this.

  Channelling a rapidly dwindling supply of courage, she reached up to swivel the rear-view mirror back into place. As she did so she caught sight of her one concession to emotion on this surreal day.

  Her mum’s pearls.

  The baroque pearls Mathilda had worn on her own wedding day, the pearls her dad’s great-grandfather, the founder of Seaborn’s, had bestowed to be passed down to every Seaborn girl getting married.

  She’d always wanted her mum to be a part of her wedding, whenever that was, and wearing the pearls made her feel close to her.

  And vindicated her decision to marry for convenience rather than love.

  Sapphie had promised their mum to cherish Seaborn’s and make it flourish and Ruby had done the same when she’d insisted Sapphie take an enforced absence or risk losing her health as well as their livelihood.

  She’d be damned if she failed a month after Sapphie’s collapse and only a year after their mum’s death.

  Swallowing the lump of emotion lodged in her throat, she swivelled the mirror away.

  She might have skipped the chapel but, in a little while, she was definitely getting married.

  * * *

  Jax alternated between tugging at his cuffs, sliding a finger under his collar and adjusting his tie.

  He couldn’t breathe, a vice slowly but surely constricting his chest until the simple act of dragging in a breath hurt.

  ‘Relax.’ Murray slapped him on the back, annoyingly chipper.

  ‘I am,’ he said through gritted teeth, glancing at the door and his watch for the umpteenth time.

  ‘She’ll be here.’ Murray straightened and smoothed the lapels of his tux. ‘Though it’s not too late to change your mind.’ He winked. ‘You make a run for it, I’ll take care of the damsel in distress.’

  Jax’s scathing glare made Murray laugh. ‘You’re a riot but I wish you’d shut the hell up.’

  Murray’s laughter subdued to smothered chuckles. ‘Why? Nervous?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  Jax usually took everything in his stride, from occupational health and safety officers threatening to close his mine if he didn’t comply with their ou
trageous demands to weepy secretaries pining for their outback lovers gone walkabout.

  He’d dealt with the trauma of his dad’s trial and the resultant fallout, when mates he’d gone to school and uni with had turned their collective backs on him.

  He’d coped with his elegant, classy mother doing the unthinkable in assisting his dad in his underhand dealings before absconding like a thief into the night.

  He’d handled moving across the country and taking over a mine with no previous experience bar a stint at a merchant bank, and he’d handled the isolation and dust storms and cyclones.

  Handling a wife for as long as it took to wrap up a few business deals?

  Easy.

  ‘Good, because here she comes.’ Murray nodded towards the door, his inane grin annoying Jax as much as the leap of his pulse.

  He shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing Ruby this much.

  They were two pragmatic individuals doing whatever it took to achieve their respective goals.

  Tell that to his gut instantly tightening at the sight of her, resplendent in a calf-length off-white dress with thin straps, her hair a glorious muss of curls and those striking green eyes accentuated by lashings of make-up.

  As they locked gazes across the small room he could’ve sworn his heart twanged.

  Damn.

  He strode down the aisle, for want of a better word, to meet her.

  Aware of curious eyes upon them—Murray, the celebrant and her cousin staring daggers at him—he slid an arm around her waist, drew her close and kissed her.

  He’d aimed for a brief, perfunctory greeting kiss but the moment his lips touched hers he couldn’t help himself.

  Increasing pressure, demanding entrance, delighting in the jolt to his libido as her tongue snaked around his.

  She tasted of mint and strawberries, sweet and succulent, and he lost himself in the seductive charms of his soon-to-be wife.

  Wife.

  Marriage.

  For better or worse.

  He couldn’t have imagined a more effective douse for his rising passion and if Murray hadn’t cleared his throat, he would’ve stopped anyway.

  Ruby stared at him, her eyes so wide and luminous a guy could lose it completely if he looked into them long enough.