by Maisey Yates
“And I will not be seen as a man forced into this situation.”
“Pride is a beautiful thing. At least I think it is. I don’t know that I have any left.”
“I find myself in short supply, as well.” His expression turned fierce. “And I will turn my focus to helping mass produce Leah’s Lollies products, as soon as time allows.”
She ignored the leap her heart took and looked down at her fingernails. “Payment for services rendered?”
He looked stricken for a moment, and his face paled. Then, as soon as the reaction occurred, he covered it again. “This is not that sort of arrangement. You are my wife. Not a woman I have purchased.”
“And how long will I be your wife?” That was the one bit left undiscussed. Undecided. Would she be his wife on paper, or in reality.
“I made vows,” he said. “I intend to honor them. Do you?”
“In what regard?”
“In all regards. What’s the sense in divorce when this union could serve us both?”
“We’re missing the love bit.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’s overly romantic.”
He was right. Now. It hadn’t always been true. But over time...over time all that sunny optimism had bled from her, an open vein that had truly begun the hemorrhage the moment she’d first seen Rachel standing by Ajax. The perfect couple, so beautiful, so poised. The embodiment of her heartbreak.
“I’m not especially. But what do I get out of this, Ajax? Beyond a husband who is bitter toward me and will think of other women if we ever make love?”
He looked her over, slowly, and something changed in his eyes, heat sparking in their dark depths. Heat that lit an answering fire in her stomach. Heat that reminded her just how strong a pull Ajax had over body.
“What do I get?” she repeated, her voice a whisper.
“What do you want?”
As they’d both pointed out, their pride was all but destroyed. So why cling to it now? She wasn’t going to sit around, angry over not getting what she wanted because she hadn’t asked for it. She was going to make her own demands. If he wanted a marriage, she would give him a marriage.
She had her armor now—she didn’t need love. She didn’t want it. Didn’t want emotion. But a business partnership, cemented by marriage, that she could handle. And sex with Ajax? Well, she was attracted to him. And frankly, she was over being a virgin. This was a convenient way to deal with both her attraction to him and the virginity. A win-win situation, really.
And yeah, kissing him had knocked her defenses a bit, but it wouldn’t happen again. Not when she was the one making demands. Not when it was expected.
She would make this a marriage that would work for her, not just for him. To hell with his plans, she had plans of her own. If he said no, maybe he’d release her.
But if he said yes...
“If we’re going to stay married, then I want a marriage. I want you, in my bed, every night, and never with another woman. I want you to support me personally and professionally. I won’t live a half life forever because of a rash decision I made.”
“Naturally,” he said, “I want children, as I said already. It has always been a part of my plan. And you?”
She hadn’t given it a lot of thought, because marriage had seemed a far-off event. But part of her had always taken for granted that she would be a mother someday.
“I want them,” she said, trying not to think too deeply about it.
“And as you are my wife, sleeping with you seems only logical. What is the point of seeking physical release elsewhere?”
“I’m relieved you feel that way.” Though not overly flattered. “Better for our health, wellness and media image, I imagine.”
“However, I stand by my original statement. You and I may figure out the finer points of our relationship after this whole thing has been smoothed over in the public arena. While we’re attending events as blissful newlyweds, it would be best if our personal relationship was kept as simple as possible. I don’t want Christofides thinking there might be a weakness he can exploit. I don’t want him to get desperate and decide he should come and seduce you.”
“Me?”
“He may very well if he sees that Rachel is a dead end to destroying my goals.”
“Oh, seduced for revenge from my marriage that’s for business only. I am such a lucky girl.”
“It’s the reality, Leah. I don’t say it to insult.”
“Of course not.”
“Also in favor of waiting, you need time to adjust.”
“Time to adjust? What do you... What?”
“Yesterday you were to be my sister-in-law—today, you’re my wife, I doubt you’re prepared for the change. In spite of what I said about you not being a prisoner, and while I know you entered into the arrangement of your own free will, it was an emotionally heightened moment, and there were a lot of reasons why our marriage made sense in terms of business. But just because all of that made sense, does not mean you and I make sense as a couple. Naturally, you will need time before you’re ready to consummate.”
She blinked, unable to wrap her mind around what he’d just said. “Need...time?”
“Naturally.”
She felt raw. Her ego wounded and scrubbed with salt. And now he was telling her what she wanted. To hell with that. “You have no idea what I’m ready for, what I want. Don’t you dare think you can tell me. I’m quite okay with sex, the idea of us having sex sits very well with me. I didn’t agree to marry you thoughtlessly, I know what being married means.”
“You’re young, Leah, naive. I will not take advantage of that. A little time for everyone to adjust to the situation is necessary.”
She felt defiant now, her pride, that pride she’d decided only a moment ago she didn’t care much about. “I don’t need time, Ajax. You could have me on this table right now if you want. Think of my sister. Hell, think of England, I don’t care. I know what I want. I said exactly what I wanted. I want you.”
The words hung, heavy in the silence of the room. She’d admitted it. That she wanted him. That she wanted to sleep with him. Something about the admission made her feel stronger. Made her feel like her armor was back in place.
“The thing is,” he said, his voice a growl, “I don’t want you. You are a child to me. I look at you and I see a girl. I do not see a woman.”
His words didn’t hurt as badly as they might have, not with her armor on. Not when she could see, so easily, that he was lashing out because of pain in him. Not because of her. “I’m twenty-three. I am not a child.”
The anger in his eyes dissipated, and he just looked tired. “I...I have not had time to adjust to the new plan.”
Just then she found it hard to be mad at him, in spite of the cutting edge to his words. “And the plan is everything, right?” A new thing she’d learned about him in the past twenty-four hours.
“Yes, Leah, the plan is damn well everything,” he said, each syllable rough and hard. “How do you navigate life without one?”
“Follow your heart. Your passions...”
“Passion,” he spat, as though the word tasted terrible on his tongue, “is the single most destructive element in life I can think of.”
“You don’t feel passion?”
“I deny it.”
“Not even for Rachel?”
He shook his head, dark eyes blank. “For nothing. For no one.”
“I thought you loved her.”
“What does that have to do with passion?” he asked.
“Everything.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Leah. Passion is all about self. All about pleasing yourself. And that path...that path can get very dark.”
And then Ajax tu
rned and walked out of the room, and the last bit of fantasy and mist that had hung before her eyes evaporated.
There was nothing more than cold reality and the realization that the man she’d thought she’d known for most of her life was nothing more than a stranger.
CHAPTER FOUR
AJAX NEEDED A new plan. All things considered, the plan wasn’t as derailed as it seemed at first. He was still married to a Holt heiress, and he still possessed Holt Enterprises. He had a wife, albeit not the wife he’d wanted, but from that wife he would still get the children he needed to continue on his legacy. A legacy he had reason to feel proud of. In theory.
As for Rachel...his feelings for her were not essential to the plan. Love, however nice it had been as an idea, was not essential to the plan.
As far as the sex went...it had been Rachel in his mind for so long, it was hard to transfer the desire to Leah. Leah, who was ten years his junior. Leah, who had so much softness in her. At least, she’d had it in her. Back when they used to talk, she’d been so open. She’d connected with him on a level that was so different from anyone else. But in terms of wanting her? That could wait. Until he’d got used to the idea at least.
Sex was, by the account of some, a basic human need, much like eating and drinking.
He disagreed. He’d done well without it for more years than he cared to recall. Just as he’d never needed alcohol. He valued control over all else, and anything that might distract him had been weeded out as unnecessary. That said, he couldn’t lie. He’d been looking forward to that part of marriage.
The acknowledgment of it nearly made him laugh. He liked to think of himself as being entirely above desire, but that wasn’t the case. He was simply very good at keeping it on a leash. The hours he spent working out late at night were a testament to the fact that he was sublimating desire, rather than absent of it completely.
Leah was his wife. His real wife, per the new plan outlined this morning.
He repeated that, over and over in his mind, trying to make it real. Trying to incorporate it into his vision for the future. Trying to figure out where she fit in with his end goal.
There was a fund-raiser tonight, for one of Ajax’s favored charities and that meant that the personal things would have to go on hold for a moment. He would worry about the physical piece of the marriage later. For tonight, they would simply have to put on a show for the people and press attending the fund-raiser.
He closed his thoughts down, narrowed his focus. He walked through the house, his footsteps loud on the tile. He hadn’t seen Leah since their argument that morning.
He finally found her in the study, her laptop on her lap, dark hair piled on her head. She’d ditched the baggy sweatshirt in favor of a T-shirt and yoga pants. She had a pen in her mouth, four bags of candy in front of her, with the highly recognizable pink-and-green-polka-dot logo associated with Leah’s Lollies, and she was typing furiously.
“I see your things arrived.”
She paused and looked up, golden eyes round. Then she straightened and tugged the pen from between her lips. “Yeah, and I had a few issues to deal with.”
“Chocolate emergency?”
“You’d be surprised. Some quality control stuff. I had to go and grab a few random bags of product to run an unofficial check. I haven’t found any problems, but I guess some deformed butterscotch high heels went through to the boutiques. I’m not very thrilled about it. Actually, Holt is my manufacturer, you know. I pay them, it’s all aboveboard, not a nepotism thing.”
“So you’re a client in addition to the Holt Corporation holding shares.”
“Indeed.”
“But now you’ve married into part ownership of Holt. I would suppose that means the shares are passing back to you in many ways. And now you own more of Leah’s Lollies.”
“One of my wins. One of the very few.”
“Perhaps few in this situation, but in general, it seems you’ve had quite a few. This is what you always said you wanted. You were always telling me about your ideas for a store. Pink, you said. It would be pink. Now they make paint that comes in Leah Pink, don’t they?”
She cocked her head to the side, a line creasing her forehead. “How did you know that?”
“I read about your work.” If there was a news article about her on a website, he clicked it, naturally. And occasionally, he was enticed to do an internet search to see how things were doing. Because it was nice to see how things were going for her. Because she was Rachel’s sister. It was only natural.
“Oh. Huh.” She looked back down at her screen, then back up. “Sorry, did you need something?”
“I forgot to mention that there is a charity event tonight Rachel and I planned on attending. Given the circumstances surrounding our marriage I’m certain the media will be there, and they will be waiting for the story.”
“You mean...we have to go to this?”
“Yes. If we miss it...if we miss it we’re inviting speculation. I will not give that to the public. I’ll not give it to Christofides.”
She put her hand on her forehead. “Oh, jeez.”
“Yes. Have you got a gown?”
“I have several. It’s a bad habit of mine, buying dresses that I don’t really have any reason to wear. Don’t judge. Everyone needs a hobby.”
“Well, in this case it seems it’s served us both well.”
“I suppose.”
He looked at her, and more specifically, at the way she wasn’t looking at him. Not really. Not the way she usually did. Usually when he looked at her, he saw the girl with sparkling eyes.
She looked different now. No glitter. Her face a bit more drawn, sculpted. And she seemed tired. He’d never seen her looking tired before. Leah was a woman of endless energy, at least she’d always seemed so to him. A constant sugar high that never seemed to end.
But it had ended sometime. She was so much harder now, but he hadn’t seen it till the past twenty-four hours.
“You will need to be ready by six.”
“Okay,” she said, not looking back up at him.
“And you will need to not look like you’re contemplating putting my head on a pike.”
“No guarantees, darling,” she said, her words carrying a razor-sharp edge.
“We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”
“We are newlyweds. Marriage is hard. First twelve hours is the hardest.” She continued typing away, not looking at him.
“So it seems. But we must attempt to make this look real.”
“It is real. As you pointed out, I signed a license, I took vows. It’s all real, man.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Love,” she said, looking up at him. “You want it to look like love. You want me to gaze at you in adoration so no one doubts my happiness or your penis size—I got it.”
His throat tightened, a strange kind of heat prickling his face. “You do not normally talk this way.”
“Maybe I do, Ajax...how would you know? When was the last time we had a real conversation? Six years ago? We don’t know each other. I didn’t think you were as big of a jerk as you played it this morning, but hey, I learned something new. And you think I’m a child, but you’re wrong about that, too. We’re learning new things. What do you know about that?”
“I think you’re having a fit because you’re angry at me.”
She shot him a deadly glare. “Fits are what little girls have. I’m a woman, I’m in a mood.”
“Is that it, then? I’m not accustomed to dealing with women and their moods.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m not accustomed to living with a woman. When a woman is in a mood, I am able to avoid her.”
“Oh, how charming. You only deal with them when they’re all
sweet for you.”
“That is not it. I was not being insulting, I was making an observation.”
“Oh.” She looked down again. “Well, anyway... Look, I get that tonight is a big deal. I don’t want to screw it up, either. I’m already being called the backup bride by the press, and I’m not all that enamored with the title so it suits me just fine if everyone thinks we’ve fallen into a mad passionate affair.”
“That is part of the plan. My plan.”
“The new plan?”
“We did need one.”
“You know...everyone will think that we betrayed Rachel.”
“Will they?”
“With a bride switch two hours before the wedding? It’s either she betrayed you or you betrayed her.”
“Betrayal doesn’t need to come into it. What if we realized we really loved each other, while Rachel and I were merely marrying for convenience?”
Leah felt like she was being stabbed in the heart, slowly, each new inch he pushed the blade in burning fresh like a new cut. And she didn’t know why it hurt. Why, after managing as well as she had with every other slight, this went so deep.
It was nothing to do with Ajax specifically, but with coming in second to Rachel again. Every boy she’d ever dated had nearly got whiplash watching Rachel walk by. And Ajax...Ajax had preferred her, too.
Her mother and father had always loved them both, and treated them both well, but Rachel had an ease about her. An elegance that people responded to instantly. She was beautiful, poised, long and lean.
Leah had always been awkward by comparison. Her life had not been the social whirlwind Rachel’s had been, not ever. There had never been too many party invites, or lots of cute boys. She was the Other Holt. She was the incidental, the afterthought. And that realization always hurt, no matter how many layers of armor she put between herself and the world.
“Do you think people will buy it?”
“Why not?” he asked, shrugging.
“What about what Rachel might say?”
“It’s Christofides I worry about. What has she told him? And what might he entice her to say?”
“Oh. Yes. That’s right. The evil boyfriend of doom.”
