A Contract, a Wedding, a Wife?

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A Contract, a Wedding, a Wife? Page 8

by Christy McKellen


  ‘How about this: if you could choose one ability that you don’t already have, what would it be?’

  ‘To predict the future,’ he said with confidence.

  Soli thought this was interesting. It clearly pointed to a need for complete control.

  ‘What are you most grateful for?’

  He paused infinitesimally before replying, ‘My health, wealth and happiness.’

  Glib, but okay.

  ‘What would you never joke about?’

  ‘Money.’ There was no pause before that answer.

  ‘Is there something you’ve always dreamt of doing but have never got round to? Tell me about it, then tell me why you haven’t done it yet.’

  ‘Hmm.’ This gave him pause. ‘I think I’m doing what I dreamt of. I wanted to run my own company and live in this house.’

  ‘Okay. Well...well done,’ she said with a smile. ‘What’s your biggest accomplishment?’

  ‘Same answer. My company and finding a way to live in this house.’ He looked particularly pleased with himself for that answer.

  ‘Tell me about a happy memory from your school days.’

  Suddenly the buoyant atmosphere seemed to drop like a stone.

  ‘I can’t think of one right now,’ he said tersely, his gaze skimming away from hers now.

  There was something heartbreakingly raw about the way he said this, but she didn’t press it. From the way his shoulders had stiffened she got the impression he’d happily call an end to the session if she did and that was the last thing she wanted when he was finally starting to open up to her a little.

  ‘What has been your most embarrassing moment?’ she asked with a smile, hoping to flip the mood, but was a little taken aback to see his eyes harden at this. ‘It can be something really silly,’ she added quickly, desperately trying to rescue the lightness they’d had previously.

  ‘Pass. I can’t think of anything right now,’ he said again, his tone warning her not to push it. Clearly she was treading on dodgy ground.

  Okay. She could come back to that another time. She didn’t want to ruin the progress they’d made. But something still pushed her to ask the next question anyway.

  ‘What’s your relationship with your mother like now you’re grown up?’

  The light went out of his eyes. She realised with a shiver of disappointment that she’d blown it and that he’d probably clam up completely now, but to her surprise he didn’t. Instead, he hooked an arm across the back of the sofa again and looked directly into her eyes as if actively deciding not to dodge her interest in the question any more. Perhaps he was hoping she’d leave him alone if he finally gave her an answer to it.

  ‘I don’t really know her, to be honest. We have very little contact these days. She’s not exactly the maternal type. I think she fell pregnant with me by accident—at least, that’s what I overheard one day when my great-aunt and a friend of hers were chatting. Apparently my father convinced her to keep me, but she and I never really bonded. Not that my relationship with my father was much better. He was always being sent away overseas with work. He was a foreign diplomat. My mother often went with him but they kept me here in England at boarding school. It was for my own good, apparently, so I wouldn’t feel unsettled.’

  From the expression on his face she gleaned that it had actually had the opposite effect. No wonder he was so attached to this house. It seemed to be the only place he’d ever felt secure. She couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been not to be allowed to live with your family. There were so many good memories from her own childhood, she’d be devastated not to have had the opportunity to experience them. Some of them were only snatched, random moments in her memory, but they still held so much meaning for her. They’d help her grow and form as a person and the knowledge that she’d be able to come home to her family and a safe, loving environment every day after school had kept her going through her most taxing years.

  ‘I suspect it was really because they thought I’d cramp their style if I was living with them,’ Xavier went on, his eyes taking on a far-away, troubled look now. ‘They were always big socialisers, according to my great-aunt...’ He paused, as if weighing up whether he wanted to say the next thing out loud, obviously deciding that he did when he added, ‘And not exactly faithful to each other.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been really unsettling for you,’ she said quietly.

  He looked at her again, his expression softer now with what she thought might be appreciation for her understanding.

  ‘It wasn’t great, but then no one’s life is perfect, right?’

  ‘True,’ she said, giving him a supportive smile.

  There was another heavy pause as they just looked at each other again and Soli felt a strange sort of pulse beat between them.

  ‘Any more?’ Xavier said, breaking the tension.

  ‘Any more what?’ she asked, a little shaken by the atmosphere that had formed.

  ‘Questions,’ he said pointedly.

  ‘Oh! Yes. Okay.’ Pulling herself together, she asked, ‘What would you regret not having said to someone if you were to unexpectedly die this evening?’

  He raised a wry eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about doing you in,’ she added with a grin, then muttered, ‘yet,’ waggling her eyebrows in jest.

  He came really close to properly smiling at that and her heart did a little dance of joy in her chest.

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I guess I wish I’d had a chance to tell my great-aunt how much I appreciated her taking me under her wing like she did. I don’t know what would have happened to me if she hadn’t.’

  Soli became aware of tears pooling in her eyes. ‘I’m glad you had her. She sounds like an amazing woman.’

  ‘She was.’

  Blinking away her tears and pointing at her eyes, then wafting her hands at either side of them with a strained smile of embarrassment, she asked, ‘When did you last cry in front of someone?’

  He frowned, but didn’t meet her eyes. ‘I’m not a crier.’

  ‘Really? You never cry?’

  ‘Not in front of other people, no.’ He shifted a little in his seat and crossed his arms. ‘And it’s been years since I cried on my own.’

  ‘Oh. Okay, then.’ There was something so heart-wrenching about this it actually caused her physical pain deep in her chest. How awful that he didn’t feel he could express his sorrow in front of someone else.

  ‘I cry in front of people all the time,’ she said with a self-deprecating grin. ‘I find it cathartic. I always feel better afterwards, though sometimes I’m embarrassed by how easily I do it. I cry at anything even remotely sad,’ she said, feeling tears pushing at the backs of her eyes again just from thinking about it.

  His shoulders had stiffened as if he was really uncomfortable now and he glanced down at his watch, as if wanting to escape from the conversation.

  This was confirmed when he said, ‘Anyway, Soli, it’s been an interesting exercise, but I really do have some work to do this evening, so I’m going to say goodnight.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, watching him get up from the sofa, feeling a swell of satisfaction from getting as far as she had.

  It was early days yet, but at least she knew a bit more about him now.

  His emotional unavailability made more sense now she knew more about how he’d been ignored by his parents during his childhood. She felt truly sorry for the poor, lonely little boy he must have been growing up, not having a family who loved him or a steady base to come home to during his breaks from school. What must that do to a child? To not feel wanted by the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally?

  It was a horrible thought.

  Well, she’d make sure she did her very best to
support him in the months to come. She’d need to be careful not to get dragged into an emotional quicksand where Xavier was concerned—it wouldn’t be sensible to allow herself to actually fall for the guy, she reminded herself with a strange pulse of panic—but she could be a friend to him, as he’d suggested.

  Yes, that was exactly what they both really needed at this juncture in their lives.

  A good friend.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Would I Lie to You?—keep your cool and think quickly to win this game.

  XAVIER SLEPT BADLY that night and woke up later than his usual six a.m. start.

  After having that conversation with Soli his dreams had been tangled with memories of his time at boarding school—feeling isolated and humiliated when he’d been the only boy whose parents hadn’t turned up to watch an end-of-term performance before they all left for the Christmas break. It had then changed to him standing in the mostly empty register office with Soli. In the dream they were reciting the lines they’d been asked to say, except it wasn’t the registrar conducting the service, it was Great-Aunt Faith, who was barking instructions at them as if they were disobedient children.

  As he’d turned to apologise to Soli, he’d realised it wasn’t her standing next to him after all—it was Harriet.

  ‘Really, Xavier? You had to pay her to marry you? How pathetic,’ she’d sneered at him and the ugly look of utter disdain on her face had woken him with a sickening jolt.

  It had been so vivid and had drawn such a strong emotional response from him he felt exhausted now, as if he’d not slept a wink all night.

  Remembering with relief that it was the weekend, he allowed himself to lie in bed and read the news on an app on his phone, determinedly pushing the unsettling echoes of the dream out of his mind, before finally dragging himself out of bed for a shower then heading down to the kitchen for breakfast.

  He’d just got the coffee machine set up and running when the buzzer for the entry phone at the front gate went.

  Frowning to himself and wondering who the hell would be so uncouth as to turn up uninvited at this hour on a Saturday morning, he picked up the handset and snapped, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr McQueen? This is Samuel Pinker. I’ve been employed by your great-aunt’s estate to visit you and your wife at home in accordance with her will.’

  Heat rushed across his skin, quickly followed by a wave of cold panic that made his hair stand on end. So they were being checked up on already?

  ‘Okay. Well, you’d better come in,’ he said, forcing his tone to sound jovial and upbeat. ‘Solitaire is still in bed, I’m afraid. It’s a little early for her, so you’ll need to give me a few moments to rouse her.’

  ‘No problem,’ the voice of Pinker said over the phone. ‘I have a quick call to make so I’ll park in your driveway and give you a knock in five minutes, if that suits you?’

  ‘That would be fine,’ Xavier said steadily.

  ‘Thank you,’ the man replied.

  Xavier pressed the button to release the gate, then dashed out of the kitchen and down the corridor to Soli’s room, where he banged hard on the door.

  It was a full minute before he was able to rouse her.

  ‘Xavier? What’s the matter?’ she asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand and looking a little bewildered to see him standing there.

  ‘There’s someone here from my great-aunt’s solicitor’s office to check up on us. You need to get dressed. Quickly,’ he said, determinedly trying not to notice how appealing she looked, all bed-rumpled and sleepy.

  Her eyes sprang open at that and she did a little nervous jiggle on the spot. ‘Should I get dressed?’ she asked, her voice wobbling with panic.

  ‘No,’ he said, thinking it would seem more realistic if it looked as though she’d just got out of bed. ‘But perhaps put a robe over your pyjamas?’

  ‘I don’t have one!’ she said, flustered.

  ‘There’s one on the back of my bedroom door. Go and put that on. It’ll look better if you come from upstairs anyway. As soon as you hear me open the door, come down. Okay?’

  She looked slightly terrified now. ‘What am I meant to say to him? We haven’t worked it out yet!’

  ‘Don’t worry. Let me do the talking. Just try and make it look as though you like me and find me attractive,’ he said, flipping her a wry smile.

  She nodded jerkily. ‘Okay. I can do that.’

  There was a strange, zingy tension suddenly between them, but he brushed it off, not having the time to consider what it might mean.

  Two minutes after she’d dashed upstairs, the doorbell went and Xavier took a deep, steadying breath before going to answer it.

  Their visitor was a portly man, with a shock of russet hair and a cheerful smile.

  ‘Samuel Pinker,’ he said, holding out a hand, which Xavier shook firmly.

  ‘Good to meet you. Please come in.’

  He guided the man into the hallway, just as Soli made a timely appearance at the top of the stairs.

  The two men looked up at her as she descended and Pinker once again held out his hand in greeting as Soli reached the bottom stair.

  Soli, to her credit, appeared to be totally relaxed as she shook his hand and introduced herself, giving Pinker a warm smile that lit up her whole face.

  Xavier’s stomach did an odd swoop as he once again thought how attractive she looked with her wild curls framing her pretty face and her cheeks pink and a little sleep-creased. The robe she’d found in his bedroom was far too big for her, but it only enhanced how feminine and delicate she was.

  He had the strangest compulsion to wrap his arms around her, to protect her from Pinker’s searching gaze, but he held back, not wanting to spook her and give the two of them away.

  To his surprise, Soli appeared to have the same urge to touch him and he gave a small involuntary grunt of surprise as she walked straight up to him and slid her arms around his middle, pulling herself close so they were chest to chest. He looked down to see she was gazing adoringly into his eyes.

  His heart did a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn.

  Remembering the exercise they’d done only the night before, he maintained eye contact with her, immediately recalling that same close connection he’d experienced, so didn’t even blink when she stood on tiptoe to plant a light, soft kiss on his mouth.

  The sweet, sleep-warmed scent of her invaded his consciousness, making his senses reel and his body instinctively tighten with lust.

  Ah, hell. If she pressed herself any closer to him there was a good chance this could turn into a very embarrassing moment indeed.

  Luckily, she pulled away before he completely lost control of the situation and turned to smile at Pinker, who was watching them with a focused sort of smile on his face.

  ‘Can I get you a cup of coffee, Mr Pinker?’ she asked him. ‘We were just about to have one.’

  To Xavier’s surprise, Pinker shook his head. ‘No, thank you, Mrs McQueen. I only popped in so I could tick the “living together” box on the paperwork. It’s very clear you both live here, what with me turning up at such an ungodly hour at the weekend and finding you in residence. I do apologise for any inconvenience caused—it’s my job, you know?’

  ‘Of course! We totally understand,’ Soli said, with warmth in her voice.

  ‘Well, I’ll let you good people enjoy the rest of your morning,’ Pinker said, tipping Soli a courteous nod and offering Xavier a smile. ‘No doubt I’ll see the two of you again at some point. Until then...’ He made for the door, giving Xavier a nod of thanks when he opened it for him, and vanished outside.

  Xavier waited until he saw Pinker’s car pull out of the driveway before shutting the door with a sigh of relief and turning to face Soli.

  ‘Well done,’ he said, walking towards where she still stood by the stairs. ‘I think we c
onvinced him.’

  Soli smiled back, looking a bit sheepish now. ‘Sorry for kissing you like that without warning, but I thought it would look more authentic. It’s the sort of thing I’d do if we were really married.’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, lifting a hand to touch his lips where the ghost of Soli’s kiss still lingered. ‘It’s a good job you insisted on that eye-gazing thing yesterday—it made it a lot easier for me to look at you.’

  ‘Thanks. I think,’ Soli said, flashing him a rueful grin.

  ‘I didn’t mean...’ He shook his head, irritated with himself. ‘I meant it made it easier to be immediately intimate with each other.’

  ‘I knew what you meant,’ Soli said, widening her grin, evidently enjoying winding him up.

  He couldn’t help but smile back at her, a surge of relief-filled happiness appearing out of nowhere. Clearly he’d made the right choice in Soli for his pretend wife. Her quick reaction today gave him confidence they’d actually be able to pull this thing off at the party this evening.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Soli said loudly.

  ‘What?’ he asked, startled.

  ‘Your smile. It’s incredible. You should do that more often.’

  ‘Uh, thanks.’ He smiled again in a show of nonchalant acceptance but her words had made a tingle shoot straight up his spine. No one had complimented him on his smile in a very long time. Perhaps because he hadn’t had much to smile about.

  They stood there, just looking at each other for a couple of beats, and once again Xavier had the weirdest feeling that Soli was someone he could really trust and rely on. Strangely—considering she was still practically a stranger to him—she was one of the few people he’d ever felt that about.

  She looked back at him with curiosity in her eyes. And something else. Something that made his skin heat and his body tense with arousal.

  He suddenly wanted to kiss her again, just to experience that same thrilling feeling of being connected.

  No. No. Not a good idea.

  Obviously it had been much too long since he’d been physically involved with a woman if he was contemplating messing with this precariously balanced business relationship he’d negotiated so carefully.

 

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