Mr and Mrs Sullivan: Standalone Arranged Marriage Romance

by Simone Nicholls

  Mr and Mrs Sullivan

  Simone Nicholls

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  STAY IN CONTACT

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  Chapter 1

  Emerald

  Nothing in my life was ever simple. Not my career. Not my family. Not even my school life. I knew I’d thought this through numerous times. Had come to many possible outcomes. I knew what I was about to do was frowned upon by most. Hell, even I thought it was crazy. Yet, here I was sitting in the back of a brand-new Bentley, in a wedding dress.

  At eighteen.

  While everyone else my age stressed about returning to school for the final year, I was freaking out about meeting my future husband.

  My Dad was an oil miner. Very successful, one of the richest men in the country. Still, as I looked at his face now, I knew he didn't want me to go through with it. So why was I deciding to marry at eighteen? To commit to a man, I’d never met?

  I still couldn't give a straight answer.

  One day I was talking to my agent about how much easier my life would be if I had a husband. It would keep all the other men that were obsessed with me away.

  Being a highly paid model had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. The one disadvantage that was haunting me, was men. Drooling over me. Messaging me. Stalking me. I joked that they would stay away if I was married and if I was off the market, then I could focus on my career and that alone.

  My career was my focus. Modeling was all I knew. I’d been bought up by mom in beauty competitions. Mom still was my number one support system. Even though she fully disagreed to committing to a man I’d never met, especially since her and dad decided marriage was the worst mistake of their lives and divorced before I was three.

  Yet, I was still about to walk down the aisle. Oh, the irony. "Emerald, you can still get out of this." Dad's large, rough hand covered my small one which had a death grip on the lilies I was holding.

  "I know you think I'm making a mistake but..." I lost my words, trying to make sense of the entire mess. Shaking my nerves, I looked at Dad. "I really need your support, Dad."

  His face softened. "That's all you needed to say Emerald. Are you ready?"

  I nodded.

  Here goes. What's the worst that can happen? I only had to be married to him for a year. That was the time frame in the contract. This time next year the nightmare would be over. My career would be set. Thank God for the ability to divorce.

  DANE

  Fuck Jamieson. So what if I liked to party? Come the start of season, I was focused and dedicated. Nothing came before my career. Playing football had always been my dream and now, I was at the top of my game. Though the partying was giving me a bad image, and affecting my career. Being in the headlines every weekend was not only pissing off my coach, but also the CEO and director of the club. They didn't want their star player getting hammered the weekend before preseason.

  Jamieson started rumours that I was seeing someone, and it was serious. Before I knew it, I was engaged and everyone would love to know who the mystery woman was. Hell, I’d like to know who the mystery woman was.

  So instead of making the headlines for being a lady’s man and an alcoholic; my upcoming wedding was making the headlines.

  Who the hell would willingly decide to marry someone they’ve never met?

  I wanted to meet her as soon as the rumours started. But, she was the one who said no. After her refusal, I automatically knew she was pig ugly. Jamieson went on and on how it was a perfect match. She needed something from me and I needed her to be a trophy wife. To be at every game cheering us on and then in a year, after I’d locked down a five-year contract, I would divorce her.

  I’d been forced to stay away from women because of my engagement. Everyone apart from Leah. Who was currently sitting in the front row, smirking. She knew how much this was killing me.

  I loved my women. I hated commitments. But I loved my football career more than anything. Which was why I was standing in a black tux ready to take the dive into a marriage with a woman I didn't know.

  "You ready brother?" Max's hand clamped down on my shoulder. Being family, he knew the truth.

  "Never. I will never be ready for this." I grumbled.

  "Well, pull your shit together because the car just arrived."

  Dread filled every part of my body. Kill me now. That would be easier. I glared down at the alter floor. It was a garden wedding and not only was every player of my team here, but also every media outlet possible. As well as family and more friends It was a large wedding.

  I’d kept glancing to her side of the alter. She had as many guests here as me. Why was she putting on a show?

  The music started, and I put on my game face.

  An inhale of gasps rang throughout the audience. Dammit, I knew she would be ugly. The buzz and clicks of the cameras started flashing. This was humiliating. "Wow." Max said behind me.

  "Any ugly jokes and I'll kill you." I said through gritted teeth

  "Brother, I really think you should look at her."

  I guess I couldn't put it off, forever. Come on Sullivan. You can do this. Face your fate.

  As much as it pained me to do so. I sucked in a sharp breath. My football career depended on marrying this woman. I needed that five year contract.

  So I turned and my jaw dropped. Fucking hell.

  At first, all I could do was stare.

  The white dress showed off her perfect curves, and it dipped low showing off her perfect, round breasts. The curves were enough to get any man excited. Though that wasn’t what had me stunned. It was the way her blonde hair framed her snow-white face. And those green eyes. Forest green. The type of green you would expect to see in a magazine, that have been digitally altered.

  She was small, she was young, she was graceful, and she wasn't anything I was expecting.

  Why the hell would a girl like that want to marry me?

  Max whacked my arm. "You can stop drooling." He whispered.

  I cleared my head. Fuck. I was acting like I’d never seen a woman before.

  When I thought about it, I hadn't ever seen a woman like her before. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine.

  She was stunningly beautiful.

  And completely out of my league.

  Yet, she was about to marry me.

  Her dad glared as they continued down the aisle. His death glare was enough to straighten anyone up. He looked like a powerful man. If he had any idea of who I was, I’d be thinking the worst as well.

  Her expression was blank apart from the small, forced smile coming from her lips. I assumed that was for the cameras

  She didn't look scared of them.

  Even I hated the cameras, but she didn't look like a trapped deer. She was acting like this was a perfect afternoon and she wasn't nervous about marrying a complete stranger.

  Was I the only one freaking out?

  Then her eyes found mine. As soon as our eyes locked, she smiled. It lit up her whole face, from her dimples to her emerald eyes. She was a beautiful, young woman, and I had no idea how Jamieson found her.

  Her Father handed me her hand, and her skin was as soft as it looked. Her na
ils were set in a perfect manicure. Hell, everything about her was perfect, especially her smile.

  Suddenly, I was insecure about myself. Did she like tattoos? Because I was covered in them. My fingers, hands, arms, chest, legs, shoulders, and neck. Even my back had them. I’d never felt insecure before. But the moment I took her hand in mine, the doubts arised.

  Everyone took their seats, and the celebrant started the welcoming speech.

  "You look beautiful." I said looking down at her. I wanted to speak to her, but wasn't sure what to say—so I just said the truth.

  "Trust me, it's the dress.” She smiled, and her whole face lit up. “But thank you.”

  It wasn't the dress. It was all her. Now that I had her attention, I didn't want to lose it. "Dane. My name’s Dane."

  "Emerald."

  “I know your eyes are beautiful."

  She giggled sweetly, "No my name is Emerald. But everyone calls me Em."

  Emerald. Perfect name for the most beautiful woman. "I guess it's show time." I looked at the celebrant as he started the part I was dreading.

  "Yeah, it is.” Her voice wavered. . Maybe I wasn't the only one freaking out about marrying a stranger. I didn't think about what it would mean, but I squeezed her hand, reassuring her.

  And then the celebrant started talking to us. All those times I’d practiced this part with Leah over the last week was going to pay off.

  The wedding reception turned out to be a big party. We’d skipped the speeches and the dancing. Everyone was happy just eating and drinking. As for Emerald and I, we hadn't had one moment to talk.

  I was throwing back shots with the boys when I saw her across the room with an elderly woman.

  "I can't believe you kept her a secret!" Scott whacked me. He was the best ruckman in the league and also a great friend.

  "I'd keep her a secret as well." Jamie said. "Not only were you dating The Emerald Asher but you married her!"

  The boys seemed to know who she was. I had no idea. But I couldn't say that. Every time they mentioned her, they were overly impressed. I’d say it was her beauty that had them drooling, but it was also the sex appeal.

  "No wonder other guys didn’t stand a chance." Scott handed me another shot. "I’d love to say I was in with a chance, but I would’ve never gotten close enough to one of her shows, let alone a shoot. The closest I've gotten to her was one of her calendars."

  "Or her website." Jamie laughed.

  She was famous. But I didn't know what for. "I haven't seen either." I threw back the shot I’d just been handed.

  "So you weren't one of the men stalking her then? Come on mate, the underwear shots have helped me out numerous times." Jamie wasn't joking. Did he just say he was wanking off to my wife?

  "How about that Miss December shoot? Just a glimpse of her naked ass was enough for me." Scott said. Okay, that was enough with the jokes.

  "Are you lot fucking with me?" My jaw ticked.

  "Mate, you’re the one who just married the hottest model in the country!" Jamie picked up more shots handing me another.

  She's a model? I looked through the crowd but couldn't see her.

  "She keeps her work private." I lied. Why hadn't anyone warned me she was a model?

  "Well you get to do what every guy wants to do with her tonight. You know, I read in an article she's still a virgin." Jamie leant in. "Unless, you’ve already tapped that," he smirked.

  I threw back another shot. If he wasn’t careful, I’d be pummelling his ass. I looked at the glass, how many of these had I drank? I swear, I've had a drink in my hand all night. And when I didn't, someone was giving me one.

  "I'm not telling you lot about my sex life." I slammed the glass down, only to have Nathan hand me a rum and coke.

  "Come on, it's locker talk. She'll never know." Nathan nudged me. "Is her body as good as it looks in the pictures?"

  I’d only touched her hand. But they were all looking at me wanting answers to their perved questions. I started to gulp down the rum and coke.

  "You've seen her body in real life. You know that it's better than the pictures." There was no possible way a photo of her would compare to the real thing.

  The boys laughed,, and that seemed to answer their questions.

  Nathan put his hand up for the bartender and I knew this night was going to get messy. The boys were enjoying the fact that this would be our last night on the drinks before season.

  So, I didn't stop. Fuck, I needed to be wasted. Just the thought of being alone with her in my house had me all sorts of nervous.

  Chapter 2

  Emerald

  He was drunk. So drunk he couldn't remember the password to his own security gate. He ended up ringing his brother to ask for it. He’d somehow made it up the front steps of his mansion. And when he was struggling to put the key in, I took over.

  He stumbled in, knocking over a foyer table, causing a vase to break with the water and roses spilling onto the floor. As well as keys, sunglasses, and everything else that was on it. And then…he stumbled into a mirror. I was trying to steady him as we walked inside. He was a walking hazard.

  "I think I'm going to be sick," he slurred and leaned against the staircase.

  Well, it was safe to say my husband was an alcoholic. But at least he wasn't an angry drunk.

  I helped him down the stairs to a sunken lounge room, which overlooked the beach.

  "Do you have a bathroom downstairs?" I asked, holding up his weight. God he was tall and muscular, and I was glad he wasn't fully leaning on me because I'd be on the ground.

  He groaned and pointed down a passage.

  I followed his instructions, and one minute he was forcing open the door, the next he was bent over the toilet. Puking. How romantic.

  I shook my head, picked up my wedding dress and headed back the way we’d just came. The front door was still ajar and my suitcase was still on the front steps. Picking it up, I headed back inside.

  My heels slipped in the water and I fell to the ground, landing on my arm awkwardly. I made a sound when the suitcase landed on my stomach. I glared at the ceiling and cursed.

  I sat up in the water, grabbing one heel and pulling it off and then the second. Stupid, bloody things.

  Getting back up on my feet, I picked up my suitcase and headed back into the lounge room. I could still hear him throwing up. I looked for a light but couldn't see a switch anywhere. So I opened my suitcase up and pulled out my phone. Dialling a number, I hadn't expected to use so early.

  "Emerald?"

  "Hi Amy." Amy was Dane's mother. We’d exchanged numbers at the reception. "Is Dane allergic to anything? Is he on any current medication?"

  "No, he isn't. He was on pain killers when he messed up his shoulder last season, but apart from that he’s clean. Can I ask why?"

  I looked up the hall, hearing him throwing up. "Just making sure I won't kill him if I give him some maxalon. Thanks Amy."

  "I’m guessing my son partied too hard at the reception, huh? He looked wobbly on his feet when you left. I've been telling him to take it easy on the alcohol. I swear every weekend he’s a mess. Don't you be cleaning up after him. He knows better. I'm so sorry, Emerald."

  My nightmare was confirmed. He was an alcoholic. A man as handsome as him, so confident, shouldn't be so dependent on alcohol.

  "It's not a problem. Nothing I haven't dealt with before. Night Amy. Sorry to call so late." I hung up. I’d spent my childhood cleaning up after my older brother and his crazy weekends. My brother was an alcoholic. It was one of the main reasons I never drank. I still loved my brother and didn't mind looking after him when he came and stayed with me. But, I’d never wanted to marry a drunk and put up with it for the rest of my life. Then again, it was just a year.

  While the bitch in me wanted to leave him to moan and groan on the bathroom floor, the better half of me was digging through my bag and pulling out my medication purse. I always had medication on hand. Especially anti-nausea medication. B
ecause sometimes I would get so nervous before a shoot, that I would make myself sick. Anti-Nausea medication was my best friend.

  So was my hydrolyte. I grabbed a tablet and walked to the kitchen, dropping it in a glass off the shelf and watching it dissolve as I added water. Restoring electrolytes was highly important otherwise he was going to wake up with one hell of a hangover.

  How many times had I forced this cocktail in my brother’s mouth? I sighed, picking up the Maxalon and headed for the bathroom. He was gripping the toilet.

  "Here. Open your mouth." I kneeled beside him. He looked at me glassy eyed but did as I said. Handing him the hydrolyte. "Swallow it with that." He threw back the glass like he’d been throwing back the shots tonight. I grabbed a towel and wiped the vomit off his face.

  Again, something I was used to doing.

  "I think I need to sleep." He staggered up, his hand reaching for me, as I helped him stand.

  "Do you think you can manage the stairs?" I asked, holding some of his weight. And assuming his main bedroom was up there.

  He shook his head as we walked out of the bathroom. He pointed to another door and I opened it.

  Spare room, by the looks of it.

  He basically fell down to the bed as soon as he was in distance of it. I undid his shoes and pulled the blankets back, throwing them over him.

  Just like my brother.

  Why was it when it came to the men in my life, they were all useless? Why did I expect my fake husband to be any different?

  I dropped his shoes on the floor. I didn't know what happened to his suit and tie, but he wasn't wearing either when we left in the limo.

  The buttons of his shirt had been undone, showing me his tattooed chest. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off the tattoos on his arms.