by Aubrey Dark
“Sierra.” The name flowed off of my tongue. I wanted to say it again, let it roll around in my mouth. Sierra.
To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to marry a thief. But when I thought about Sierra, her bare arms, the way she fought under me—it made something inside me turn over with an emotion I’d never experienced before. Was this what pure lust was? If so, maybe Sanders had gotten it right all along.
I’d told her that sex was off the table, and so it was. But there was a pulsing of desire through my body whenever I thought about those full lips quivering only a few inches from mine. I could have kissed her. I could have leaned forward and kissed—
“Will?”
“Huh?”
“I asked what her last name was.”
“I’ll text you once I find out.”
“Great.”
“Her kid’s name is Kirsten, if that helps.”
Shawna had been taking a sip of her tea, and she spit it half into the mug, half onto the tabletop.
“What?”
“Tea no good?” I asked.
“She has a kid?”
“A baby, really. I don’t think it could talk much. So probably only a month old? Maybe two months? When do babies start to talk?”
Shawna stared at me with such a blank look of fear that I started to get nervous. She wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
“What?” I said. “She doesn’t have a husband anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“You’re telling me that you’re going to marry a woman with a kid.”
“Sure. It’s extra leverage,” I said.
“It’s not leverage. It’s another human being. And you’ll be responsible for it. And you’ll have to live with it, if this charade is going to work at all. And in a year, when you divorce this woman, the kid will wonder why her daddy is going away.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hand. “Wait one moment. First of all, the kid won’t remember me. It’s a baby.”
“So you’re going to live with a baby. For a year.”
“Sure.”
“Will, when was the last time you spent more than two minutes around a baby?”
I searched my memory.
“I don’t exactly remember.”
“That’s right.”
“What’s your point, Shawna?”
“My point is, this is going to be harder than you think.”
“Harder than running a multi-billion dollar company?”
Shawna blinked at me.
“Come on,” I said. “It can’t be that hard.”
“Tell me later,” she said. “Once you’ve met the baby.”
The doorbell rang, startling me.
“That’s her.” For some reason, my heart was starting to race. “Do you want to meet her?’
“Sure.” Shawna sipped at her tea. “I’d love to meet her.”
“Don’t be like that to her, okay?”
“Like what?”
“Like you are. Sarcastic. Mean.”
Shawna rolled her eyes.
“See, like that? Don’t be like that.” I ran my hand through my hair. “How do I look? Do I look okay?”
“You’re worried about how you look?” Shawna raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“For a pretend wife that you’re going to bribe to marry you?”
“See, there’s that mean sarcastic thing again,” I said, leaving the kitchen. “Cut that out.”
I looked at myself in the hallway mirror and adjusted my collar. You’re going to be fine. What was I worried about, anyway? Shawna was right. She wasn’t a monster, or a CEO I was negotiating with. She was just a woman, and she had already agreed to the deal. This was going to be easy.
I opened the door and smiled.
“Hello—”
“AHHHHH!” A blur of motion streaked past my knees and I felt a stab of pain through my foot as something stomped on my shoe. I looked down to see a tiny girl in a green dress running down the hallway.
“Ow!” My toes throbbed.
“Kirsten, get back here!”
“AYYYYIYIYIYI!”
Sierra was already in my house before I could invite her in. She dashed down through the hallway after her daughter. I heard something shatter on the tile floor.
“Kirsten, stop!”
Before I could get my bearings back, the little girl was barreling back through the hallway. I’d expected a monster’s scowl, but she was laughing maniacally as she ran. I stepped aside as she ran past me to protect my toes from another stomping.
“Catch her! Kirsten!”
Sierra didn’t pause as she pushed by me in the hallway. “Why didn’t you catch her?”
“Wha—”
But she was already gone, chasing her daughter toward the kitchen.
“Kirsten!”
I had the same sort of blind muddled confusion that I imagine an amateur football player might feel if he was thrust into a starting lineup in the Superbowl. Everything was moving so fast, and I didn’t know how to react. I stumbled down the hall to the kitchen, from which murderous screams were emanating.
“AYYYYIYIYIYI! Gimme!”
I entered to find the little girl trying to clamber up the kitchen table, her tiny fingers gripping the table leg just inches away from my blue china tea set.
“Kit, let go!”
Sierra had her arms wrapped around the girl’s waist, but the tiny terrorist was kicking back in fierce competition, yelling at the top of her lungs all the while. Meanwhile, Shawna sipped at her tea and looked on noncommittally. Finally Sierra wrenched the girl away from the table. She immediately began to bawl.
“Let me go! Let me go! Go! Go! Go!”
“If you be quiet, I’ll give you your animal crackers. Okay, Kit?”
At the mention of animal crackers, the little girl fell silent. Suddenly there was peace in the house again.
“Thank you.” Sierra put the girl back down on the floor and pulled a box of crackers from her purse. A few of them fell onto the kitchen tile. I looked on in horror as the little girl—Kit?—bent down and started licking at a cracker that was on the floor.
“Is that—is that okay?” I asked.
“What? Sure. She’s pretending to be an animal.”
“Pretending to be an animal?”
“That’s what she does when she eats animal crackers. I don’t even think she knows they’re in the shape of animals. Well. Anyway. Sorry I’m late.” Sierra blew her bangs away from her face.
Her bangs. I blinked in surprise. She wasn’t blonde. That’s what was different about her. In all the commotion, I hadn’t even noticed. Now, I stared at her, taking her in slowly. She wore tight jeans under a loose green sweater that only hinted at the curves underneath. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her face was much less made up than the previous night. She looked almost completely different, although her angled features were still the same. And her lips…
“Are you going to introduce me?”
“Hmm?” I snapped back to attention to find Sierra staring at me expectantly.
“Never mind, I’ll do it myself. I’m Sierra,” she said, holding her hand out to Shawna. “We, uh, kind of met last night.”
“Shawna Tate. I’m Mr. Fawkes’ personal assistant.”
Sierra looked down quickly at her kid, an expression I couldn’t recognize on her face.
“And, um, this little monster is Kirsten. Kit, say hello.”
“HEWWO,” Kirsten said, not glancing up. Her tongue was glued onto the animal cracker. It looked like she was trying to get it off of the floor and into her mouth without using her hands. Her teeth scraped against the tile and I shuddered.
“Do you have a room in here that isn’t filled with fancy breakable things?” Sierra asked, her eyes scouring all of the china in the room. “And oh, sorry about the statue in the living room. I think we might be able to glue it ba
ck together.”
“I’m sure you will.” Shawna’s smile broadened. “Will, I’ll see you later today.”
“Wait,” I said, panic shaking through me. “You’re leaving?”
I didn’t know if I could handle Sierra and her kid together. One of them, maybe. But both?
“I have a lot of work to do today, remember?” Shawna’s smile twinkled as she put her tea cup back down into the kitchen sink. “But I’m sure you all will have a bunch of fun.”
“Shawna—”
“It can’t be that hard, right, Will? You run a multi-billion dollar company.”
I stared down at the girl, who had given up on licking the animal cracker. Now she was crumbling it into her fists and throwing the pieces across the kitchen floor.
“Right,” I said, lying through my teeth.
“Bye!” Shawna said.
“BYEEEEEE!” Kirsten screamed, waving a crusted hand at Shawna as she left the room. Then the hallway door opened and shut, and I took a deep breath. I was in my house, alone with Sierra and her kid. And I felt like I was the one being held captive.
“She should be fine now that she has her crackers,” Sierra said. “Now, about this deal.”
She looked up at me expectantly, her face sparking with intelligence. I found that I couldn’t look at her lips before the heat began to thrum through my groin. I stared down at my coffee.
“Right,” I said. “I have the details all laid out in a contract. You agree to marry me in exchange for financial support and dropping charges for theft.”
“It’s a fake marriage, though. Right?”
I looked up. Damn it, she was right there, leaning against the table. Her breasts curved softly under the fabric of her sweater, clinging in a way that made me unable to think clearly.
“Yes,” I said in a single hot breath.
“No sex.”
The word coming from her mouth made my groin twitch with sudden insistency. What the hell was wrong with me? This was an arrangement, nothing more. I cleared my throat before speaking.
“Right. No sex. But in public, we have to act like a couple. You’ll be living with me for a year.”
“I can do that,” she said.
Could I? A year. A year of not just her, but her child. I stared down at the girl, who was rolling around in the crumbs she had scattered.
“It has to look like a real marriage, though,” I said, anxiety creeping into my voice.
“How so?”
Her eyelashes, dark and sensuous, fluttered up as she met my eyes. A thickness in my mouth made it hard to speak.
“You can’t date anyone else.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
I didn’t ask why.
“And we have to make it look real. Like we’re really in love with each other, married for real reasons. Can you do that?”
Instead of responding, Sierra stepped towards me. With one hand, she gripped my shirt. She was much shorter than she had been last night, my brain thought stupidly. No heels. Then her mouth was on mine, her hand running through the back of my hair.
A shock of heat swept through me, leaving me instantly hard. She kissed me thoroughly, her soft lips exploring, searching mine, and I couldn’t help but kiss her back. It was better than I’d imagined, better than any dream of a kiss could be. Her fingers tingled as they ran down my scalp to my neck, light and teasing. Her tongue was sweet, her lips alternately soft and insistent.
Every part of my body was sending signals of desire through my nerves. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. I wanted to shove her against the kitchen counter, wrap her legs around me, and—
“There.”
My groin ached as she pulled away.
“I’m good at faking things,” she said, her voice husky. “Most women are.”
“Ex—excellent,” I stammered. My cheeks were hot, my body on fire.
“Now,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Where’s that contract?”
Chapter 8
I followed William as he led us both deeper into the house. It was a gorgeous mansion, full of light and air. The kitchen was decorated with a sort of rustic elegance, and as we walked through the rest of the house I realized that everything was in the same kind of style. Burled wood furniture that shone deeply with oiled heartwood. Light colored linens covering the couches. Dried flowers arranged in oversized ceramic pots.
It would have been beautiful, like a tour through an interior design magazine, but all I could think about was how much there was here for Kit to destroy.
After I’d kissed him, William hadn’t been able to look at me. I’d thought that maybe he was gay, but there was no way that could be true. As we’d kissed, I’d felt him responding to my touch. Now, though, he led me through the house without looking back at me. I felt like Eurydice following Orpheus up through the bowels of hell. Like if he turned back to look at me, I’d melt away.
At least his backside is nice to look at. I bit my lip as my eyes cut across his muscled back. I’d seen him shirtless last night, but now he was hidden from me. All straight hard lines underneath the fabric.
I’d been so curious about what it would be like to kiss him, but it had been different than I’d expected. It felt like he was holding back almost entirely. Like I was kissing a marble statue. His lips were hot and inviting, but his attitude was as icy as you could get.
There must have been something wrong with him. Why else would he have asked me to marry him? Why all this secrecy, why a contract? With his looks, I was sure that he could have his pick of any woman far more beautiful than I was.
So why me?
Despite myself, a thrill of excitement shot through me. I was in trouble, sure, but it seemed more like an adventure than a problem. A secret contract with a handsome CEO? It was better than jail, by a long shot.
“This way,” William said, opening up a carved oak door and motioning me in. Kit tugged me forward by the hand, but I stopped in my tracks just inside the doorway.
“Whoa.”
“Whoa?” He was right behind me, his breath on the back of my neck. And now I was the one who couldn’t turn around. But for a different reason.
“This is incredible.”
It was a huge room, and every wall but one held shelves upon shelves of books. The last wall, the one in front of me, was all glass panes. Outside, you could see the tops of pine trees swaying in the wind, and beyond that the mountain skyline. It felt like I was stepping into a library in the middle of a forest, on a ridge above the whole world.
Kit slipped away from my hand and tottered forward. Even she seemed to be enthralled. Then she placed her hands against the huge window wall and smushed her face up onto the glass.
“Kit, don’t do that!”
“It’s alright. It’s double paned and shatterproof. She won’t be able to break it.” William tilted his head, then amended his statement. “At least, she won’t be able to break it easily.”
“Still, you don’t want smudges all over your window.”
“That’s alright.”
Will shrugged. He seemed much more at ease in this room. Before, he had been staring at Kit like she was a wild animal that he couldn’t lose track of for a second. Now, he sat on the edge of an oak desk, his shoulders relaxed.
“Kit, here’s your book. Read your Clifford, okay?”
Kit, too, seemed strangely subdued in this library. She plopped down on the thick carpet and took the book I held out to her.
“Here’s the contract,” William said, picking up a folder from the desk. “Please look it over now.”
“I can’t take it home?” I asked, walking over and taking the folder from him.
“I don’t want any copies being made,” William said, his voice calm and certain. “But you can look it over as much as you want here.”
I flipped the folder open. A page of dense legalese met my gaze. The intended spouse (herein known as Wife) shall not reveal any detail
s of this contract to any external parties. If any provisions of this contract are disobeyed, all benefits accrued to Wife will be rescinded…
“Okay,” I said. “Tell me what this says.”
“You don’t want to read it?” Will looked at me now, his gray-blue eyes wide with surprise.
“I’m not a lawyer,” I said. “So before I sit down and spend a week figuring all this out, why don’t you tell me in plain English what this means?”
“Alright,” William said. “The first provision is that you won’t tell anyone else about this agreement. Not even a hint of it. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we’re marrying each other because we fell in love.”
“I love you.”
Will’s lips pinched together in shock but for only a moment.
“Yes,” he echoed. “I love you. That’s why we’re getting married.”
“Even if you don’t love my kid.”
“What? Who says I don’t love your kid?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, she did destroy your rooster statue. And I’m pretty sure she’s going to stain your couches and ruin all your carpet with PlayDoh.”
“I like your kid just fine,” William said. His mouth was twisted, but at least he was trying.
“Great. So as long as you like both of us just fine, we can pretend to love each other.”
“The second provision is that you will live in this house with me and participate in all necessary matrimonial ceremonies—”
“Like what?”
“I have a list of events that are typical for engaged couples and newlyweds,” William said. “An engagement party, a prenuptial agreement, pre-wedding rehearsal dinner, thirty meetings with a wedding planner—”
“Thirty meetings? To plan a wedding?”
But William just waved his hand in the air.
“The planner that Shawna contacted estimated fifteen, but this contract estimates conservatively in order to prepare for any eventualities.”
His voice was dry and confident, and I realized that this was what he did. Business. Everything in its place, every eventuality taken care of beforehand.
“Ten dinners with family, although I think we can get away with fewer. A pre-wedding spa day with female family members. During the wedding, all you’ll have to do is go through the motions and make it look like you’re excited and overwhelmed with happiness, etc. Shawna will take care of the thank you cards after the wedding, but you’ll be required to sign them—”