Marriage.
The word echoed in her mind. It was a major undertaking. A pledge that she knew many didn’t take seriously these days but one that she’d always hoped, in her heart of hearts, would be based on a forever love when it happened to her. Could she trust in that belief now, with Marcus? Could they build the kind of marriage that stood the test of decades rather than days?
“Avery? Say something, please?”
He smiled at her, his eyes encouraging her to answer in the positive, to take a chance. A chance on him and a future together. She wanted to, she really wanted to, but she was so scared. What if it all went wrong? What if he never loved her? What if he came to loathe the very sight of her while she continued to futilely, hopelessly love him?
“I…I don’t know, Marcus.” She finally gathered the strength to push the words out through her lips. “It’s a big step to take. We aren’t even sure I’m pregnant, and no matter what, that’s no basis for a marriage.”
“Marriages have been based on less. C’mon, Avery, you do love me, don’t you?”
She lifted her eyes to his, to drink in the male beauty of the face she held so dear. “Of course I love you, Marcus. But the question is, do you love me?”
His gaze didn’t falter. “I care about you deeply, Avery. More than I’ve ever cared for another person in my life aside from my Grampa. Honestly. I truly think we can make it work.”
“And if I’m not pregnant?”
“Then we’ll still be married. C’mon, let’s do it,” he urged. “We can get a license and be married straightaway.”
“You make it all sound so easy.”
“It is easy, Avery.”
“Let me think about it, okay?” she implored him. “I don’t want to rush into something this important.”
“Okay,” Marcus conceded. “Is the rest of today long enough?”
She laughed incredulously. “Marcus! That’s hardly fair. You’re suggesting something that is supposed to last our lifetimes and you want me to make my mind up just like that?”
“I made my mind up about you in a lot less time,” he said, leaning forward to press a kiss upon her slightly parted lips.
Instant heat, instant desire. Even through all the fear and confusion of this morning he had this power over her. She could have this forever if she was only brave enough to say “yes.”
Marcus interrupted her thoughts. “I need to get into the office for a few hours today. I tell you what, you stay here and rest, I’ll take you out somewhere wonderful for dinner tonight and we’ll talk about it more then.”
“Surely I’ll be okay at the Met. I’m feeling much stronger now—and I’ll have some lunch before I go.”
“I’ll take you another time, I promise, just humor me for today.” He reached out a hand to smooth a lock of hair from her cheek. “You scared me this morning. I didn’t know how to deal with you when I didn’t know what was wrong. Now we know that you might be pregnant, that’s something we can handle—together. But I still want to know you’re safe. Please, for me, just rest today, okay?”
His care for her was obvious in every syllable of every word he spoke. Was it enough, though? Could they build a future on that?
“Okay,” she answered huskily, “but only if you promise you’ll take me to the Met another day.”
“I said I would, didn’t I? So, it’s a deal,” he said. “I won’t let you down, Avery. Ever.”
She clung to his words after he’d gone, wanting to believe them. Suddenly ravenously hungry, she made herself a sandwich and a bowl of fruit salad and took them both over to the sofa where she ate her way through her food and thought. And thought some more.
Marcus hadn’t lied to her about his feelings. He hadn’t suddenly filled her ears with protestations of love everlasting. If he had she probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway. He had, however, been honest and that had a great deal to be said about it.
He cared about her. Was that enough? Deep down she knew she wanted his eternal love—caring was just the beginning, wasn’t it? At least, if she agreed to his harebrained scheme, they had a strong starting point. For centuries, marriages the world round had begun with less and thrived and been successful.
She didn’t need to marry him. She had more than enough money not to ever be dependant on another soul the rest of her life. But money wasn’t love. It could keep you comfortable, feed you physically—but nothing but love fed your soul. Avery flicked a glance at the clock on the microwave oven in the kitchen. Midday. She sighed. It was going to be a very long afternoon.
* * *
Marcus went through the motions at the office. He’d been away long enough that there was a pile of paperwork to sort through, even though the redoubtable Lynette had certainly made a big dent in it for him. A confirmation from the shipping company in L.A. told him that the Cullen collection would be arriving over the weekend. Marcus made a silent vow to be there when the collection was inventoried and accepted into the system. He couldn’t wait to see it with his own eyes.
Already the thrill of putting together the auction catalog rushed through his veins. The proofs had come through from the photographer and Lynette had already earmarked those she felt should be used in advance publicity for the auction.
There still remained one black spot on his happy horizon. Lovely Woman.
A new thought came crashing down upon him. If Avery agreed to marry him then the painting would surely become part of their matrimonial property. One way or another, it would be his, even if jointly. There was only one stumbling block to this new and exhilarating idea, and that was if she refused to marry him.
He pushed his chair back from his desk and swiveled around until he faced the window. He didn’t even bother to stare down at the view of Madison Avenue and its bustling street life. Instead he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. How had this all gotten so out of control? He reexamined the way the past few weeks had panned out and he could see no other route than the one he’d taken.
Marriage. It was a monumentally big step. His grandfather would kill him if he had the slightest inkling that Marcus didn’t love Avery the way a man marrying a woman should love her. But for the chance to be reunited with the painting that was rightfully theirs? The painting that had almost destroyed his great-grandmother’s livelihood and had put unmentionably unfair financial strain upon her young shoulders?
Avery had to agree to his proposal. She just had to.
He sat upright and swiveled his chair back around. He had to work on the assumption she’d agree—anything else was incomprehensible—and that meant he needed to be prepared.
“Lynette?” he called.
His PA appeared in his doorway as if she’d been awaiting his summons. The woman must move with the speed of greased lightning, but he was grateful for that right now.
“Yes, Mr. Price?”
It still felt odd that a woman old enough to be his mother referred to him so formally while he called her by her first name. But, despite him having requested otherwise several times, she refused to budge.
“I’d like you to research something for me.”
“Of course, Mr. Price. What is it exactly?”
To her credit she didn’t so much as blink when he gave her his answer. “A marriage license—for this weekend.”
“Certainly, it won’t take me a moment.”
And it didn’t. To his delight she presented him with all the information he needed to make their wedding ceremony happen. All he needed now was to complete the paperwork, pay the fee—and for Avery to say yes.
Later in the afternoon Marcus made reservations for dinner at his favorite restaurant in the Theater District. The ambience, the food, the service—it would all be perfect. It was good to know there were some things he could guarantee and
he liked being prepared ahead of time.
It was his attention to detail that drove him out of the office and toward one of the jewelers who specialized in antique reproductions. He didn’t think Avery was the type to go for a modern-day ice rink on her finger. Everything about her was subtle, understated, yet elegant and beautiful at the same time. Finding the right ring to seal their agreement was all-important. He didn’t even want to speculate that she might not agree.
He knew he’d found the right ring when his attention was drawn to a blue and white diamond ring set in platinum.
“How may we help you, sir?” a dark-suited older gentleman asked as Marcus peered into the display case.
“This ring,” he said, pointing. “I’d like a closer look.”
“You have excellent taste, sir,” the clerk remarked as he disabled the alarm on the case and unlocked it to remove the ring in question. “Elegance and exceptional quality combined.”
He elaborated on the blue diamond’s attributes, including its pure and unenhanced color, but Marcus could only think of how much it reminded him of the blue of Avery’s eyes when they made love. It was perfect. The central round stone at just over two carats certainly managed to catch and disperse the overhead lighting to great effect. Its flanking pair of brilliant-cut white diamonds were also set to great advantage in the intricately engraved band while smaller white diamonds glittered in the shoulders on either side.
“This is a 1920s reproduction, and the craftsmanship is quite exquisite, wouldn’t you say?” The clerk wound up his sales babble.
“Is there a wedding band to match?”
“Certainly, sir.”
The clerk unlocked a drawer beneath the display case and removed a band from the cushioned tray. He held it out to Marcus for his perusal. Set in the same style as the shoulders of the engagement ring, the band sparkled with small white diamonds while the sides also bore the intricate engraving featured on the other ring.
“Great, I’ll take them both,” Marcus said decisively.
“I’m sure your fiancée will be delighted.”
I sure hope so, Marcus thought privately. The cost of the ring was a small price to pay if it helped to convince Avery he was serious about his proposal.
Avery met him at the door to the apartment when he got home. He’d barely extracted his key from the lock and shut the door behind him when she pressed herself up against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full hard on the lips.
“I could get used to being welcomed home like that,” he said, dipping his head to capture her lips again. When he drew back he asked, “Have you reached a decision?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
Marcus felt his heart leap in his chest but he forced himself to disentangle from her embrace and take a small step back. “Just so I’m completely clear, yes, you’ve made a decision, or, yes, you’re accepting my proposal?”
She smiled back at him and she’d never looked so beautiful. She nodded. “Yes, I’m accepting your proposal. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon and you’re right. We can make this work, I know it.”
Marcus gave a whoop of delight, not realizing until this moment how tense he’d been as he awaited her decision. He picked her up and whirled her around in his arms.
“You won’t regret it,” he said, setting her back down on her feet again.
Grasping her by the hand, he led her over to the sofa and sat her down, before kneeling on the floor at her feet. He reached into his pocket and took out the jeweler’s box containing her engagement ring. Opening it so it faced her, he said, “Let’s do this properly. Avery Cullen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Oh, Marcus, you didn’t have to do this,” she said shakily. “But it is beautiful.”
“Waiting for an answer here,” he teased with a smile, feeling untold relief now that everything was falling into place.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I will.”
He extracted the ring from its satin bed and slid it on her finger, pushing it firmly over her knuckle. The action was as old-fashioned as time, as overplayed as a scenario possibly could be—and yet it felt so incredibly right.
“I hope you’re a fan of short engagements,” Marcus said, rising to sit on the sofa next to her.
“How short were you thinking?”
“This weekend?”
“This weekend! Are you serious?”
“Never more so. What’s the point in waiting? We’ve made our decision.”
She drew in a deep breath and looked him square in the eye. “You’re right,” she said. “We have. But seriously, can we get married so soon? Aren’t there waiting times and restrictions?”
“Lynette looked into it for me today. If we apply for the license tomorrow we have a twenty-four-hour waiting period so there’s nothing to stop us marrying on Sunday.”
“Where will we marry?”
“That probably depends on who I can get to officiate at this notice. Is that a problem?”
“No,” she said slowly. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask one of my father’s oldest friends if he’d officiate for us.”
“He’s a celebrant?”
“You could say that. He’s a New York State Supreme Court judge.”
“But that’s great! He can waive the waiting period for us. We can marry on Saturday, instead.” Marcus pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Call him now, see if he’s willing.”
They were in luck; Judge Harwood was free and more than willing to preside over the wedding of his old friend’s only daughter. He had one proviso; that Avery be married at his home. It meant she wouldn’t be with Marcus on Friday night as the judge’s wife had suggested she stay with them at their house the night before the wedding, but that was a small sacrifice to pay. After Saturday, Avery would be with him every night—and he couldn’t wait.
* * *
By the time Saturday afternoon rolled along Marcus was as fidgety as a cat on a hot-tin roof. Avery’s pregnancy had been confirmed yesterday, which had put a whole new perspective on everything in Marcus’s eyes.
This was for real. His own parents had never married—nor had they ever cared about the child they’d conceived. To his father he’d been no more than a bargaining chip for more money. Marcus had never planned to have children, certainly not before he was even thirty. But he was about to become a father, with all that entailed, and he was going to do right by his child and his child’s mother. No matter how daunting that would be.
He readjusted the cuffs on his shirt for the third time in ten minutes. It wasn’t that he was nervous exactly, although he had to admit to a moment’s concern when faced with the gimlet eye of Judge Seymour Harwood for the first time about half an hour ago. The man’s handshake had been firm to the point of being vicelike and Marcus hadn’t mistaken the underlying warning in Judge Harwood’s tone when he’d said he hoped Marcus would take good care of Avery.
Now, standing on the edge of the garden and waiting for Avery to come out of the house he felt as if the eyes of the few friends who had been able to attend at such short notice were drilling holes into him. No one more so than Macy Tarlington who sat in the front row with her cowboy.
He and Avery had both eschewed attendants, given that they’d organized the wedding so quickly, but Marcus kind of wished now that he had someone at his side. A flash of guilt seared him momentarily. He should have told his grandfather of his plans, but it had seemed easier to avoid the piercing questions he knew would come his way when Grampa heard of the news. He wasn’t ready to face those just yet.
The string quartet that had been playing quietly in the background suddenly broke off, only to resume with the opening strains of the wedding march. Marcus felt as if his tie had suddenly become inextricably tight as he turned and
faced his bride.
She was a vision. There was no other way to describe her. The rays of the late-afternoon sun gilded Avery’s skin with a gentle touch, emphasizing her radiant glow as her eyes met his—the distance between them closing in an instant. And in that moment Marcus knew he was irrevocably lost. This was no marriage for the sake of a baby. It was no marriage so he could finally, finally, recover his family’s lost treasure.
It was a marriage based on love—Avery’s, and his—and the realization almost paralyzed him with fear.
Thirteen
As honeymoons went the night of their wedding was all too short. He’d make it up to her in the next few weeks, Marcus thought as he lay awake in the dawn with Avery curled within the protective circle of his arms. He would. Right now he was still coming to terms with the weight of the discovery that he was in love with his wife. He’d never given love much thought before. This, however, was something he had to think about and face and learn to deal with. And he had no idea how.
Everything in Marcus’s life, from the time he could make his own decisions, had been quantifiable. Every step he’d taken on the road of his life since he’d been a studious young boy with a dream in his heart had been deliberate. He knew where he was going, what he wanted and why. But this, this overwhelming emotion people called love, was different. It was nothing like the deep affection that existed between him and his grandfather—an affection that had developed over years with the balance of care and responsibility shifting from one to the other with time and age. This was passion and intensity and a gut-gripping anxiety all rolled into one.
Caring about Avery had been safe. Loving her was terrifying. He didn’t trust it. Couldn’t. Even as they’d made love last night, the actions weighted now with far more than the giving and receiving of pleasure, he hadn’t been able to share his newly discovered feelings for her in words. Giving her that power over him, admitting it, went against everything Marcus knew.
A Silken Seduction Page 12
