Married for One Reason Only

by Dani Collins

  Waves were hitting the yacht from all sides, causing sucking and slurping noises. The deck lifted and fell. He saw her swallow uncertainly.

  “Wait for the tender if you want. I’ll wait with you.” It wasn’t a warning, more of a promise.

  “Oh—” She strung together some very un-regal words and gathered her skirts. “I’m only going with you because it’s the quickest way to get to shore and away from you.”

  He helped her into his tender and handed her a PFD.

  “You can’t get me to dry land without drowning me along the way?”

  “You’re wearing chain mail. If you fall overboard, you’re sinking straight to the bottom. It’s dark out.” He didn’t even want to contemplate trying to make such a rescue. “Is the gown rented?” He would have to make arrangements to return it.

  “It was a gift.”

  “From Duke?”

  She shoved her arms into the vest and closed the tabs, then lowered herself onto the seat nearest her suitcase, chin high, nose turned to the water.

  Very well, then. Vijay shrugged into his own vest and started the engine, nodding at the deckhand to cast him off while he sent a quick text to ensure his car would be waiting.

  Was he jealous of her wearing something another man had given her? He was so green he was septic with it. He had been from the moment he had learned she wasn’t staying in a hotel but was on this yacht with the dissolute actor. At least there’d been no evidence of Duke sharing that stateroom with her, but what did he know?

  What right did he have to care? None. Oriel had made clear she had no further interest in him when she hadn’t reached out to him after their night. Which was fine. They had agreed it was a one-time thing. She didn’t belong to him.

  * * *

  Oriel made a noise behind him, and he glanced back to see her grasp at the side of the boat as they hit a patch of wash that made for a bumpy ride. He eased off the throttle.

  A metaphor for how he ought to handle her?

  What was left to handle? He’d gone behind her back, and she was furious with him. The fact that he was still sexually enthralled by her meant nothing.

  They arrived at the marina, and he helped her onto the dock once the boat was secured. He could feel how her hand was shaking. Her expression looked anguished.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” She spat the word like it was poison.

  He returned the keys for the boat, and she paused next to him to ask the man in the rental shack if there was a shuttle service to a hotel.

  “I have a car waiting,” Vijay told her.

  “Good for you. I’ll make my own way.” She wrested the handle of her suitcase from him and rolled it toward the bottom of the ramp that led up to the parking lot.

  “Do you have a room booked? Because the entire world has checked into the city for the film festival.” He was staying in a middling three-star place well back from the bay where the only window looked onto the pool.

  “Do you know what’s funny?” She whirled to face him. “The day we met, when I let you into my room, my agent said that was how lives were ruined. I should have listened to him.”

  She spun away and started up the ramp. Her suitcase caught on the lip. She turned and roughly gave it a yank, trying to make it come with her, but it was well hooked. She released a noise of helpless fury and shook it harder.

  Vijay moved to help, but she released it so abruptly, it tumbled back onto his legs. He barely managed to keep from losing his footing and falling into the water.

  “Look,” he said shortly. “We need a reset before one of us—”

  Oriel grasped the rail on the ramp and leaned over it, moaning with pain.

  “Oriel!” He left the suitcase on the dock and hurried up the ramp to set his arms on either side of her. “Are you going to faint? What’s wrong?”

  She lost her stomach over the rail into the shallow water below.

  Ah, hell. He smoothed a few tendrils of her hair away from her face and neck and rubbed her back until she finished retching.

  “Mon Dieu,” she moaned, sagging against the rail. “How is this night getting worse?”

  He offered the black silk of his pocket square. “You get seasick.” Or was this a visceral reaction to him and his news?

  Vijay had a pigheaded view that ignorance was not bliss. Once he’d learned about his father’s crimes, he’d been eaten up by guilt that he hadn’t at least made enquiries sooner.

  He had twisted his contempt for himself and his own willful blindness into thinking Oriel not only had a right to know about Lakshmi, but that she needed to know. If Lakshmi’s manager forced Oriel’s adoption, he couldn’t be allowed to get away with it!

  He was conveniently forgetting the hours of ruminating and soul-searching he’d done getting to the decisions he’d made and the actions he’d taken.

  Oriel wiped her mouth and straightened, still trembling.

  “Let me take you to my hotel,” he said gently. “If they don’t have a room, we’ll ask them to phone around. Either way, you’ll be comfortable while we sort things out.” He went back for her case, then set his arm around her to guide her up the ramp. “I didn’t mean to cause you this much distress.”

  “What did you think would happen?” she asked with disbelief.

  “That it would go slightly less poorly than this.”

  “You lied to get me into bed.”

  “No—” As they arrived in the parking lot, his car slid to a stop at the curb. He opened the door. She sank into the back seat, still pale and subdued.

  He closed the privacy screen as the limo worked its way into the knot of bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  “Oriel.” He squeezed his thighs so he wouldn’t reach for her. “I honestly thought it wouldn’t be true. Everything we said about not having another opportunity to be together was real. I never expected to see you again.”

  “So you took advantage of the one chance you had to nail me? That makes it all better, then.” She helped herself to a miniature bottle of water.

  “I didn’t seduce you.”

  “You lied.”

  “I kept one detail from you because I wasn’t at liberty to reveal it.” He held up a finger, aware this angry defensiveness was the diametric opposite from the way he’d planned to handle this. He was supposed to be giving her the sincere apology she rightfully deserved, but clipped excuses were spewing out of him instead. “If you hadn’t been Lakshmi’s daughter, I couldn’t risk starting rumors that she potentially had one. I didn’t know you would come to that restaurant. You invited me to eat with you. You invited me to your room after. Remember? Bring condoms, you said.”

  “Well, I regret that now, don’t I?”

  “Only now?” he asked with more bitterness than he meant to reveal.

  She snapped her head around. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “The second you saw me tonight, you turned and ran.”

  “Because I was embarrassed. You ghosted me.”

  “No, I didn’t.” He frowned. “You had my number.”

  “You have terrible handwriting,” she spat, then looked toward the window. “I sent a bikini pic to a stranger because of you, thanks very much. I had to change my number.”

  She was speaking contemptuously, blaming him, but he was grimly thrilled to hear she had made an effort to reach out.

  “I was completely sincere with my second note.” He spoke more calmly. “The attraction I felt was real. I enjoyed being with you that night.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Vijay, but a lot of men are attracted to me. That doesn’t mean they get to sleep with me under false pretenses.”

  His temperature skyrocketed, but he bit his tongue because the car was arriving at his hotel. There was no doorman, so the chauffeur slipped around to open her
door while Vijay climbed out his own. As he came around to her side, he saw Oriel grasp at the edge of the door. She had gone white and looked like she was going to throw up again.

  He hurried to get his arm around her.

  She pressed a weak hand against his chest, obviously resenting that she had to lean on him, but she needed his support.

  He managed to tip the driver and take charge of her case, but as the car drove away, he kept her in the fresh night air.

  “Is this something more serious? Bad shellfish? A bug?”

  “I don’t know,” she said plaintively. “I thought it was Duke’s cigarette smoke and being on the boat that was making me feel so awful. I haven’t eaten much today.”

  “I’ll order room service.” He guided her into one of the pockets of the revolving door, saying facetiously, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  They both halted.

  The door bumped them from behind, nudging them into the bustling noise of the lobby.

  He looked down at her sallow face. Her eyes were swallowing up her features.

  A dry lump formed in his throat. A nest of cobras arrived in his stomach.

  “Are you?” His lips felt numb. A vivid memory came to him of the exquisite sensation when she’d been riding his naked flesh. He hadn’t come, though. Even if he had, surely he’d have been shooting blanks by then!

  “No. That’s—no, of course not.” She didn’t sound sure. She looked aghast, but who wouldn’t after the last few hours? “No. That would be ridiculous.”

  I hate to break it to you, Oriel, but “ridiculous” was left behind long ago.

  He didn’t say it. He led her to the elevator and walked her to his room, experiencing a twinge of embarrassment when he let her in. The room was clean and secure, but it was no superyacht or even the classy place they’d stayed at in Milan.

  “It’s all I could get at the last minute.” And he’d thought it would be only him.

  “It’s fine.” She dropped her shoulder bag on the bed and moved to the window, where she hugged herself while staring down at the guests partying alongside the pool.

  “Do you...” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Do you want me to go to a pharmacy?”

  “No.” Her fingernails were digging into her upper arm. “But I think you should.” Her gaze flashed over to his, swiping through him like a blade when he saw the deeply apprehensive shadows lurking there. “Just to be sure.”

  He tried again to swallow the lump in his throat. His lungs felt tight. He nodded, glad to have an excuse to catch a breath of air and organize his thoughts.

  “Order something,” he said, nodding at the card on the nightstand. “Maybe you just need to settle your stomach.”

  Her eyes widened with persecution, as if food was one decision too many.

  “I’ll ask downstairs, have something sent up,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” She was staring at the pool again.

  The fact she was not throwing sarcasm and defiant looks at him said a lot. She was worried. Which worried him.

  Did it? He didn’t know what to think or feel.

  He moved like a robot, asked for directions at the registration desk, and almost forgot to request two bowls of soup be sent to his room.

  What if Oriel was pregnant? Was it even his? If it was, what would he do?

  At one time he had assumed without question that he would eventually marry and become a father. His parents had been indulgent, his broader family of aunts, uncles and cousins a warm network of affection, endless food and constant laughter. The expectation of a similar life had been very natural—if intimidating when his grandmother had dubbed him “man of the house” after his parents’ death. Vijay had had her and Kiran to look after, though, and his father’s business to take over. He had focused on growing into the role and had been determined to do it well.

  When the foundations of the business proved to be rotten and his fiancée’s fidelity was revealed to be equally compromised, Vijay had put aside aspirations of marriage and parenting. Staying clothed and fed had become his priority.

  Over time, as his fortunes improved, he’d become aware that women looked on him as a prize worth winning. His ability to trust was so eroded, however, he hadn’t been willing to commit to anything serious. He didn’t want to set himself up for another gross betrayal. Besides, he hadn’t met anyone he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Until Oriel.

  It had been two months since he’d seen her, and he’d thought of her constantly, checking his phone like an adolescent hoping for a “like.”

  Surely she would have had a sign by now if the baby was his? He cautioned himself not to get caught up in a sense of duty toward her, but uneasily recognized he wouldn’t cut all ties if it wasn’t his. He had delivered the shock of her life. She was in a vulnerable state and could be even more so, depending on what this test told them. He couldn’t wish her a nice life and go back to his own.

  Damn it, why were there so many brands? He scanned the array of boxes, brain nearly exploding at the advertising flashing that promised “results in one minute” and “estimated weeks.” He grabbed the two priciest ones and half expected her to be gone when he returned.

  She had changed into plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt, washed off her makeup, removed her earrings, and gathered her hair into a low ponytail. She was as fresh-faced as when he’d met her that morning in Milan, except far more somber.

  The soup had arrived. It sat untouched and covered on the tray on the small table.

  She eyed the bag choked by his fist.

  “Listen.” He was too restless to sit. “Whether it’s mine or not—”

  “Of course it would be yours,” she snapped. “Don’t be rude!”

  A sharp wave hit him at that declaration, one that winded him so thoroughly, it took him a second to find his voice again. A smart man would be cautious about taking her word for it, but a very primitive part of him was already aligning with this news, accepting it as truth.

  He made himself say, “I thought you would have had some sign by now if that was a possibility?”

  “I have really low body fat. I never have regular periods,” she said stiffly, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve been feeling run-down, though. I threw up a few times. I thought it was a bug from travel. I’ve been exhausted for weeks, but I’ve been working nonstop. I thought it was burnout.”

  “I see.” That sounded plausible. “Well, I’m here. No matter what.” He spoke before he’d fully contemplated all that might entail, but he couldn’t turn his back on her, not if he was responsible for what she was going through.

  He held out the bag.

  “I don’t have to go yet,” she said sullenly and looked out the window.

  “Oh.” He set the bag on the bed. “Should we watch TV while we eat?”

  “Do whatever you want.”

  He lifted the cover off the soup, hoping the aroma of leeks and potatoes and fresh rolls would tempt her, but she didn’t even look at him.

  He replaced the cover. “Do you want an apology?”

  “For what? Producing, single-handedly, the absolute most stressful hours of my life? For completely overturning everything I thought I knew about myself while potentially wreaking havoc on my future?”

  Vijay had had a few weeks to digest the news of her parentage and it was purely incidental to his own life, not rooted in his foundation. He was reeling under the idea that he might become a father, but he wouldn’t let that sink in until he knew for sure she was pregnant and intended to keep it. For her, this meant her body would be taken over. He couldn’t make assumptions about how she would proceed.

  What remained constant through all of this, however, was his fascination with this woman. He was trying to keep his head and think about facts and next steps, but learning about he
r birth family had only meant something to him because it was about her. He was angry with himself that he hadn’t handled this better.

  “You have every right to be angry. And scared.”

  The corners of her mouth went down. “I have to go so bad.” She looked to the bathroom. “But I’m afraid of what I’ll find out. Then it will be real.”

  He couldn’t stand it. He closed in on her, moving slowly so she had plenty of time to rebuff him, but he didn’t know how else to express the conflicting emotions gripping him, the remorse and concern.

  When he gathered her in, she shuddered and slid her arms around his waist, tucking her nose into the nook of his neck.

  It was surprisingly powerful to hold her again, to feel this sense of interlocking his life with hers. Her scent filled his head and her breasts pressed his chest and her hair tickled his chin. He wanted to press his lips to her skin, but made himself speak against her hair.

  “What we find out,” he managed to say. He was taking her word for it that he was the only possible father, but he wanted to believe it, which was its own sort of terrifying. It wasn’t just a latent desire to be a father, either. He wanted to be the father of her child.

  And no matter what was going on in his head, it must be a thousand times worse for her. He knew that because she was trembling.

  “You’re not alone.” He rubbed her back reassuringly. “I’m here.”

  She nodded and withdrew, biting her lip as she picked up the bag and moved to the bathroom.

  Her silver gown was hanging on the door. She unhooked the hanger from the edge and threw the whole thing toward the bed, where it slithered to the floor. She didn’t seem to care and closed the door behind her.

  Vijay hung the gown on the curtain rod, then took her place staring at all those mindless people going on with their mindless lives around the pool. Didn’t they know that life-altering discoveries were being made right now?