“Sunday?” She seemed confused by the sudden change of subject.
“Mom and Dad want to meet you. Mom gets back early on Saturday evening and she’ll want to rest on Sunday morning, but we can meet them for drinks on Sunday afternoon.”
“Oh.” She made her mouth into an adorable little ‘o’ shape when she did that. His thoughts had begun to wander again when Darius reappeared with their drinks. He sat the champagne flute in front of Arial and then bent to whisper in Carson’s ear. “Your cousin has just arrived.”
Carson looked past the waiter and over at the bar. Matthew had his back to them and he didn’t appear to have noticed that they were here. “Has he seen us yet?”
“Not yet.”
Arial cleared her throat from the other side of the table. “It’s rude to whisper.”
Carson stared at her, surprised by her mild reprimand. He was used to doing exactly as he pleased within the confines of the Casino and most other places too.
Arial steadily met his gaze. “Darius and I are friends and you’re my fiancé. I’m sure if the two of you have something to say you can say it in front of me.”
The ‘Darius and I are friends’ bit caught him unawares. He scowled at Darius and the waiter’s face flushed a deep red. He hastily placed Carson’s tumbler on the table and backed away.
Arial was still watching him when Carson turned back to face her. She lifted one eyebrow. “Well? What was the big secret?”
“It wasn’t so much of a secret. Darius was just letting me know that my cousin is here.”
That ready smile was back. “Oh lovely. Another member of your family for me to meet.” She looked over at the bar, where Matthew had just turned around and was surveying the room. “Is that him? I can see the family resemblance.”
Great, now she was insulting him. He and Matthew were nothing alike. Matthew was weak-chinned, weak-willed, and he would probably start to go bald before his 35th birthday. “That’s him. Matthew DuMonde.”
To Carson’s annoyance, Arial lifted her hand and waved. “Should we ask Darius to bring an extra chair so your cousin can join us?”
“No!” He steadied himself and reduced the volume of his voice when he saw her startled expression. “I mean, no. I would prefer to spend the evening alone in the company of my lovely fiancé. We haven’t had much time together and it would mean a lot to me if we could keep this occasion intimate.”
“That’s so sweet but your cousin is already on his way across. Maybe he can stay long enough to have a drink with us before we go on to eat our meal alone.” Before he could stop her, she signaled to Darius, who was now hovering by the potted plant a short distance away from Carson’s chair. “Darius, can you bring another chair over for Matthew?”
Chapter Nineteen
Arial
Carson was acting strangely this evening. He’d walked into the restaurant looking as cocky as a rooster but perhaps he could be forgiven for showing a certain amount of swagger within the walls of his own successful Casino. However, his reaction to his cousin joining them at the table was bordering on bizarre. Carson had made it clear that he didn’t want Matthew to join them and he was being unfriendly to the point of rudeness now. Arial couldn’t see why he was being so mean to his cousin. Matthew was engaging, outgoing, and he certainly had a healthy share of the DuMonde charm. He was also incredibly cute, although not quite as handsome as Carson was. His jaw wasn’t quite so defined and his cheekbones weren’t quite as intriguing, but she had no doubt that he had his share of female admirers.
“The two of you look as if you’re close in age. Who is the oldest? And how many years are there between you?” She was struggling to find a topic of conversation that wouldn’t set Carson to bristling and snarling and Matthew jumping on the defensive to protect himself. So far, they’d skimmed over business activities and the current winning or losing streaks of various sporting teams, both of which hadn’t ended well, but hopefully bringing the men’s thoughts back to family would smooth things over.
“I’m the oldest,” said Matthew with another one of his amicable smiles. “Although not by much. There’s scarcely a month between us.”
“You’re practically twins!” This made their agonistic relationship even more perplexing. She and Steve were two years apart but they’d always been the best of friends. She was about to say something about Steve and his adventurous life but the opportunity was lost when Carson spoke.
Carson glared at his cousin. “Matthew has his eye on the Dumonde fortune. He mistakenly believes his slight seniority gives him the edge despite the fact my father built most of the current wealth, including the erection of this Casino. Matthew’s mother Lorraine is my father’s sister and her input into the business has been negligible.”
Carson’s choice of word made her cheeks burn. Did people really go around throwing words like erection into everyday conversations? Most of the people that she associated with wouldn’t dream of it.
“Calm down, Carrie. Everyone knows that our great-grandfather began the business. Your father was just lucky enough to turn up at the right time.”
Carrie. Arial dared to shoot a glance at Carson. He did not look pleased by his cousin’s use of what could be a fond nickname in the right circumstances.
Matthew turned his attention on Arial. “I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for, but I guess you know Carson well if you’re agreed to marry him.”
“Not really.” She tried to catch Carson’s eye but he was staring grimly out at the city lights. How much had he told his family about their unconventional marriage arrangement?
“And your parents? Are they pleased for you?”
She realized then that Carson hadn’t discussed her at all with Matthew. She shook her head. “Unfortunately, my parents are deceased.”
The sympathy in his eyes was genuine. “I’m so, so sorry. In that case, who will be walking you down the aisle?”
“I wasn’t…” She was about to tell him that she wasn’t going to walk down the aisle on the arm of anyone when a brainwave struck her. Perhaps including Matthew in the wedding ceremony would go some way toward repairing this very obvious family rift? “Actually, I have a request. Would you do me the honor of escorting me down the aisle?”
Matthew’s eyes lit up while Carson’s expression rivaled the fury of an unpredicted thunderstorm. “I would be more than honored. Thank you for asking me. Now if you would please excuse me, I have another appointment. Enjoy your evening.” He gave her a cheeky wink as he stood up before clapping the silent Carson on the shoulder. “Guess I’ll be seeing you next weekend, cuz.”
Carson waited until he was gone before turning cold eyes on Arial. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Excuse me? I seem to recall hearing you say that all decisions concerning my side of the wedding were up to me? Have you changed your mind?”
“Did you not notice that Matthew and I do not get along?” The tone of his voice matched the ice in his eyes.
“Weddings bring families together.” She wasn’t going to sit here while he acted like a spoiled child. He was lucky to have a cousin so close in age to attend his wedding. She would have no one there from her side of the family. Bethany, along with her friends Catriona, Lucy, and Maggie were her sole invitees. She had sent a message to Steve but it remained stubbornly unread, just as she knew it would. She pushed her chair back and rose from the table. “I’m not hungry anymore and I’m tired after all my rushing around today. I guess I’ll see you on Sunday. Text me the address and a time that suits your parents.”
She had only walked a couple of steps when a firm arm snaked around her waist and wrenched her backward. Her shoulder blades connected with a hard chest and the arm tightened, imprisoning her. “Don’t ever walk away from me,” Carson hissed in her ear.
Without pausing to think about it, Arial lifted her new high heel shoe and brought it down hard on Carson’s instep. The effect was immediate. He gasped and
his arm fell away as he hurriedly moved back. Arial made the most of the opportunity and scampered across to the elevators, dodging around Darius on the way.
Carson reached her before the elevator doors could open. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. His expression flashed pure rage and she felt a sudden stirring of uneasiness. She hardly knew this man, this stranger whom she was about to marry, and she’d just assaulted him. Something told her that she might live to regret that decision. “We need to talk,” he growled.
He hustled her into the now open doors of the elevator and slammed his hand down on the button to close them again. He pushed another button to hold the elevator where it was without the car traveling up or down. Arial twisted out of his grip and pressed herself up against the shiny metal wall of the elevator, as far away from Carson as she could get in the enclosed space. “Don’t touch me again or I’ll scream.”
Chapter Twenty
Carson
What the dickens was going on in the woman’s head? His foot ached with fiery pain where she’d just stabbed him with her heel and now she was cowering up against the side of the elevator like a cornered wild cat. Sure, he liked his women wild and he didn’t mind a moderate amount of pain, but that was in the bedroom. He forced himself to speak softly and calmly. “I’m not going to touch you unless you want me to. Why did you walk off like that? We were supposed to be having a civilized dinner, having a few drinks, and getting to know one another before we say our vows.”
“The wedding is off. I have no idea why I signed that stupid contract. I’d be an idiot to marry a man after just a few days acquaintance,” she spat.
Somehow, she managed to look stunningly beautiful while spitting fire and outrage. He felt his anger start to dissolve. With the right treatment and the right amount of persuasion, this girl could be coaxed into a wide array of fun activities behind the closed doors of his bedroom. He gave her a slow smile. “That contract is legal and binding. There’s no getting out of it unless I say so.”
A wave of concern flickered across her face but she managed to shut it down quickly enough. She lifted her chin in an impressive display of obstinacy given the situation. “I’ll get my lawyer to take a look at it.”
“You’re welcome to do that but you probably should have done so before you signed it. Everett stitched it up pretty good.” He drew the words out, enjoying watching the changing expressions on her pretty face. He liked expressive women. He liked to see them display their pleasure for his enjoyment while he took his sweet time on their bodies.
“There must be some way for me to get out of it. You must be able to see what a bad idea this is.” She’d changed tact now, attempting to persuade him rather than attack him.
His voice was a low purr. “Arial, I don’t think this is a bad idea at all. In fact, I think it’s one of the better ideas I’ve ever come up with.” He took a step closer. “How about we make up and start being friends again? We started off so well. Let’s swing this situation around and get back on an even keel.”
He watched as she visibly swallowed. He was willing to bet that her little heart was hammering in that enticing chest of hers. He took another step closer.
Her eyes were now as large as the eyes of one of those cute baby seals that starred in some of those wildlife shows. “If I scream now, Darius will hear me and he will come to save me. The elevator hasn’t moved away from the restaurant and I will make sure that my scream carries far enough for him to hear me.”
Darius would come to save her? That idea was almost as bizarre as her thinking that Darius was her friend. This girl’s brain worked in mysterious ways. “You don’t need to scream.” Not yet. He would enjoy bringing screams of pleasure to those divine lips once they were married – and as sure as the Pope was a Catholic, they were going ahead with their wedding plans. A promise was a promise, in this case in the form of a signed contract, and he was not a man who reneged on his promises regardless of his other real or perceived faults. “You don’t need to scream, Arial. I’m not going to hurt you. Look, do you want to go back to the restaurant to finish our meal? I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” It wasn’t strictly true, Chantelle had seen to that, but it was the polite thing to say.
She hesitated and he made the most of her indecisive wavering as he continued. “I understand that you’re under a lot of stress. Weddings can be stressful at the best of times and our situation is very unusual. However, I’m here to help. I don’t want to start married life off on the wrong foot.”
She wrinkled her nose and glanced at the doors but she seemed calmer now.
“Friends?” He held out his hand, remembering how she always got so formal about handshakes.
She inhaled and then quickly exhaled and he was tickled to see the way her breasts rose and fell in that form-fitting dress. In just over a week, he could slip off the straps of her gown and explore the places where no man had been before. He cleared his throat and shifted position, although he still held out his hand. “Are we friends?” he prompted.
“Ok.” She breathed the word out on a sigh and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry I stomped on your foot.”
“That’s ok, and I’m sorry that I grabbed you like that. You were only acting on your instincts when you fought back. At least we’re getting to know each other’s boundaries.” He gave her hand a warm squeeze before releasing it. “Arguments always give me an appetite. Are you coming back to the table?”
There was another brief hesitation before she nodded. “Ok. We do have a lot to talk about.”
“Sure we do.” He punched the button to release the doors and they whispered open to reveal the sedate surrounds of the restaurant. He stood back to allow her to exit and watch the way her hips swung as she walked back to their table. He followed a few seconds later, not wanting to spook her again by rushing after her. He passed Darius and gave the man a subtle nod.
Arial looked up at him from her chair when he reached the table. “I’m glad we could talk like that and work through the issue. Marriage takes honesty, commitment, and a lot of give and take. We need to remember that as we walk through the years together.”
Years? She must have used the wrong word. It was understandable given how flustered she’d been just a few minutes ago. “Yeah, that’s right. Honesty and commitment.” And no backing out of a watertight contract, lady. “Do you want another drink while you get your breath back or should we go ahead and order dinner?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Arial
She was more nervous now, before her meeting with Carson’s parents, than she’d been before her dinner with him on Friday night. Meeting a man’s parents was an enormous step from whichever angle you looked at it. What if they didn’t like her? She’d changed her clothes at least a dozen times and she still wasn’t sure if this mid-calf, pale blue dress was the right choice but she was running out of time now. Her driver was probably already waiting for her downstairs.
She stepped inside the elevator and waited for it to carry her down to the ground floor. Her argument with Carson seemed so long ago now and she was slightly ashamed of the tantrum she’d pitched. However, the road to true love was never supposed to be entirely bump free and at least they could say now that they’d survived their first argument.
She was feeling drowsy in the back of the car by the time the driver had navigated through the endless traffic and turned into the long, white gravel driveway leading to the DuMonde mansion. Her sleepiness instantly left her as she stared out the window. The house was huge. There must be at least fifty rooms! The design was grand rather than ostentatious and the leafy, manicured grounds that surrounded the building added a tranquil peacefulness to the property. In less than one week, this would be her home. The thought took her breath away.
“Miss?”
She roused herself and saw that the driver was standing outside with the car door held wide open. “Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming.” She scrambled out, inadvertently hitchi
ng her skirt all the way to her panties when it caught on the edge of the seat. The driver coughed and looked the other way as Arial hastily fixed her clothes.
Another man, wearing a uniform very similar to the one Darius wore at the Casino, greeted her at the front door of the house and led her through several gorgeous rooms with soft, luxurious carpets on the floor and beautiful paintings lining the walls before opening a pair of double doors. “Miss Arial Jackson,” he announced, making the occasion feel formal and important. She thought her legs would give way from the stress but then Carson was walking across the room to stand by her side and everything was instantly better.
Terence DuMonde was a daunting figure in real life but he twinkled his eyes at her and smiled when he shook her hand and somehow she knew that everything was going to be ok despite her fears. Martha’s gaze was shrewder and her handshake briefer and cooler, making Arial acutely aware that this afternoon was some kind of test that she needed to pass. Not that she blamed Martha, of course. It must be difficult to come to terms with the idea that there would soon be two ladies in this house, two wives supporting their husbands’ business pursuits and playing hostess during business dinners. She hoped that she and her future mother-in-law would soon become friends.
The conversation was light at the beginning and then it paused completely while a maid delivered a tray of refreshments in the form of cool drinks and light canapés. After the girl left the room, pulling the doors tightly closed behind her, Terence spoke. His voice was deep and scratchy around the edges, as if he’d worn it out at some point, and he offered no smile alongside his statement. “So, tell us something about yourself.”
She was sitting up straight on the edge of one of the elaborately curved and buttoned armchairs. It was a chair designed for effect rather than comfort and she hoped that the furnishings in the rest of the house were more bottom-friendly. “What would you like to know, uh, Terence?” She mentally slapped herself on the forehead. He hadn’t told her to call him by his first name and she didn’t know what the protocol was in these circumstances. She wasn’t his daughter-in-law yet so calling him Dad was out of the question and she knew that wouldn’t sit easily with her anyway. Mr. DuMonde felt too standoffish, but what if he had expected her to call him that?
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