by Tasha Fawkes
I groan. “You know this wedding isn't real, right?” she mumbles something under her breath about me being a party pooper.
“Why isn’t his family here?” she asks, moving on. “I would’ve thought his mom might want to see him get married.”
“Because it is not a real wedding,” I growl, gritting my teeth. “It's a business transaction, remember? Money is being exchanged for a service and all that.”
Frustrated, I glance outside and finally see his car pulling up. I sigh, relieved that he’s here. He gets out and my heart races. God, he looks good. He walks up the steps to the front of the courthouse and then stops to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
I watch his face as he takes a call. He’s animated, his expression alternating between anger and frustration. Finally, he curses and then shoves the phone back in his pocket and stalks inside.
I take a deep breath. I’m shaking like crazy. My legs feel weak, like I’m going to faint. That would be great. Just what I need. Would he still marry me if I were passed out on the floor? Judging by the way Margie is practically jumping out of her dress over him, I'm sure she'd be happy to step in for me. My heart pounds as Matt rushes into the courtroom and stands next to me.
“Sorry I'm late,” he mutters.
He runs his hand through his hair and I shiver, something sparking in me. If I have to marry someone who I’m not in love with, I should at least be thankful that he’s ridiculously sexy.
Margie glances at me, her eyes widening. I smile, forgetting that this is the first time that she's seen him in the flesh. I think she thought I was exaggerating with how sexy he is. He takes my hand. I jump at the feel of his touch, not expecting the rush that came with it. He glances at me with a frown.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks me softly. “I’d rather know now than in six weeks if you think this is going to be too much.”
I frown at him, not liking what he is suggesting. “I told you I would do this, and I will. I’m not in the habit of changing my mind once I commit to something, Mr. Harris.”
“Good to hear that,” he mutters with a smirk.
The ‘wedding’ is over so quickly I'm wondering whether it is actually real. A few sentences exchanged and suddenly I’m married. On paper, at least. We thank the judge and then walk outside, allowing Mr. public indecency his fifteen minutes of fame.
“So now what?” I ask, still not completely understanding where we go from here.
“Well, if you’d like to come back to my place, my family has insisted on throwing an impromptu reception so they can meet you,” Matt says.
“Now?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“Yes. Unless you have somewhere else to be?” He raises his eyebrows at me. I shake my head.
“Can Margie come?” I ask, grabbing my friend’s hand.
The idea of going to his house with his family scares me. I just want something that is mine there too. I grab her hand and pull her up against me. She smiles at Matt and lets out a high-pitched giggle. He frowns back at her.
“Sure,” he mutters. “I don’t see why not.”
“Okay, we’ll meet you there, then?” I say.
He frowns at me again. “Well, I was kind of hoping you would arrive with me. You are my wife after all.”
“Fake wife,” I correct. “And your family knows that, surely?”
“It’s okay. Go with him. I'll drive your car,” Margie cuts in. I glare at her, knowing exactly what she is trying to do. I pass my keys to her and scowl.
“My driver is waiting at the front, so if you’re ready…” he murmurs, hurrying me up. I nod and follow him out to the car.
He opens the door, letting me get in first, then he slides in next to me. He gazes out the window, barely saying a word to me the whole drive over. I didn't know what to expect, but I hoped he'd be more engaged, rather than awkward and uninterested. I failed to see how me riding with him was better than me going with Margie.
It's a good thing that we’re not relying on this marriage being convincing, or we’d be in trouble. I wonder how much his family knows. If it's their inheritance that's tied up, I'm betting they know quite a bit. The fact that they’d have to know that this marriage is fake calms me down a bit, at least until I think about what kind of doubt that casts on my character. What will they think of me, knowing that I'm only doing this for money? What nice girl would agree to this? I feel sick as a whole new set of anxieties take over me.
By the time we reach his house, I’ve worked myself up into a mess that I’m almost dry retching. The driver pulls up outside his front door and Matt gets out, then extends his hand to me. I take it and ease myself out of his car, smoothing out my dress.
We walk inside, Matt with a frown on his face and me feeling like I’m about to be sick. We look like a great pair. I have no idea what to expect and that terrifies me.
“We need a code word,” he says, just before we walk through the doors. I stare at him, shocked.
“A what?”
“A code word,” he repeats. “Just in case my mother bails you up and you need to be rescued.” I frown. I’m not sure if he is being serious or not, and I’m struggling to get past the fact that he barely said two words to me through the ceremony and during the ride here, and now he's joking about his mother?
“Is she really that bad?” I mumble.
He chuckles. “She's okay, she can just be a bit of a handful sometimes. She’ll want to know everything there is to know about you. Even though this marriage is fake.”
“Okay,” I say, suddenly feeling sick. “Does she know…about my father and his debt?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head. “That is nobody’s business, but yours,” he assures me. And yours.
“Just let me know if she gets too much. Wink at me twice and I’ll know,” he murmurs.
I brace myself as Matt pushes through another door, where his family are no doubt waiting for us. I don't know what I’m expecting, but it certainly isn't the cheerful, warm, and loving reception that we receive. His brother, who I recognize from Matt’s birthday party the other night as Nate, comes over and hugs me like we’re old friends. Matt grabs a drink from a passing waitress and offers one to me, but I shake my head.
“Should I congratulate you or give you my commiserations?” he chuckles, giving his brother a look. Matt frowns and holds me a little bit closer. I sense the tension between them but decide to ignore it.
“Nate, right?” I smile.
“In the flesh.”
His other brother and a cousin walk over to greet me, before I can continue my chat with Nate. I shake my head, shocked at how happy and upbeat everyone is. I glance at Matt, who is also shaking his head, but probably for different reasons.
“They’re celebrating their long, lost inheritance,” he mumbles in my ear. “It’s not so much you they’re happy about. It’s all about the money for them.”
“Well, thanks,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “That makes me feel very special.”
“You are special, because if you weren’t doing this, they wouldn’t be getting anything,” He frowns when he sees his mother approaching us and downs his full glass of champagne.
“You didn’t think to offer your wife a drink?” his mother chastises.
She leads me across the room before I can explain that I didn’t want one, insisting that I need a drink to welcome myself into the family. This time I don't resisting, because the idea of something to make this whole thing easier to cope with sounds good. I’ve only just gotten my head around the fact that I’m married and now I have to deal with his entire family? It’s too much.
I listen to his mother go on and on about things I really didn't care about, until I’m almost at my breaking point. I have to get away.
“I'm sorry,” I mutter, glancing around. “I need some fresh air. Is there somewhere I can go for a moment?”
She points over to two large glass doors. “You’ll have privacy out there on the balcony. Are yo
u sure you're okay, dear? Should I get Matthew for you?” she asks, frowning at me.
“No. Please don't. I'm fine,” I assure her. “I just need a moment to myself.”
I sprint toward the doors and let myself outside. Finally, alone, I sigh and close my eyes, enjoying the cool breeze as it blows gently in my face. I listen to the sound of my heart racing and shake my head. I laugh, because I’m so completely out of my comfort zone that I have no idea what to do next.
It's too late to be having second thoughts, but I can’t help but feel like I just made the worst decision of my life. I can’t figure Matt out. He doesn't say two words to me the whole day and then he's laughing and joking about his mother, like we’re best friends. Or married.
I lean against the railing and look over the side, down into the rose garden. I breathe in and out, trying to calm myself down, then I tilt my head back and take in as much of the cool crisp air as I can. I know I have to get back in there soon, or it is going to be obvious something is wrong. I flex my fingers, trying to work the blood through my system while I pace the balcony.
Three hundred and sixty-four more days until I can get on with my life.
I cringe. Maybe I should be thinking about it in weeks, so it doesn't feel like quite so much. Not that it really matters. In the end, it’s all the same.
“Are you okay?”
I spin around and see Matt standing there. He frowns at me and walks over to where I stand.
“My mother said you had an episode.”
I laugh. “Was that what it was? An episode,” I murmur.
He shrugs. “She said that you were having a lovely conversation with her and then all of a sudden you were bolting toward the exit, screaming for air.”
I groan, because that's exactly how I wanted his mother to perceive me.
“She probably thinks I’m unstable now,” I mutter, not bothering to correct her interpretation of what happened. He probably thinks I have a screw loose too.
He chuckles. “If it helps, mother thinks everyone is unstable. But seriously, are you okay?”
I frown at him. “Why are you being so nice to me now, when earlier in the day you could barely say two words to me?”
He sighs. “I'm sorry. I didn’t realize my bad mood was so obvious. I was late getting to the courthouse because I had a business arrangement go wrong at the last minute. I guess I was still thinking about that until we arrived here.” He sighs and takes my hand. “Charlene, I know this isn’t an ideal arrangement, but I really do want us to make the most of it.”
“You want me to enjoy this?” I ask, surprised.
“Not so much enjoy being married to me, but you don't have to hate it.”
He takes my hand and wraps it around his waist, pulling me against him. I frown, too shocked to resist.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my heart racing.
He shrugs and stares down at me, his dark blue eyes piercing mine. I stare up at him, hating the way my body is reacting to him. Feelings like these are only going to complicate this even more.
“What am I doing?” he repeats, slowly. “Well, I thought we could have our first dance out here. You know, tradition, since we’re married and all that.”
“There are many traditions that we won't be upholding,” I point out, my voice cold. He smirks. “Exactly, so why fight this one?”
I sigh and sway softly against his movements. I’ll give him this one, because I’m serious about the rest. I have to watch myself around him. I have to keep my guard up.
Because the last thing I need is to fall in love with someone like him.
Ten
Matt
“Where are we?” Charlene asks.
It’s the early evening of what is still technically our wedding day and we’ve just pulled up outside my condo in the middle of the city.
“My place,” I grin, glancing at her.
“Didn’t we just come from your place?” she asks suspiciously. “How many places do you have?”
“The mansion is my mother’s place, so I try to avoid being there as much as possible,” I say dryly. “This is mine. I also have a room at a hotel for those nights where I can’t drag myself away from work.” She looks at me quizzically. “It’s across the road from the office,” I explain with a shrug. She nods, seemingly satisfied with my explanation.
I get out and walk around to her side, and open the door. She smiles uncomfortably, as if she doesn’t like my chivalry, but I can’t help it. Years of having the importance of treating a woman right drilled into me makes it virtually impossible for me not to know how to be a gentleman. Well, at least until I get into the bedroom, and then all bets are off.
We take the elevator to the eighth level, where my apartment takes up the whole floor. She’s quiet and reserved the whole ride up, like she doesn’t want to be here. I frown as I watch her hands fidget in front of her. I know I need to make her feel comfortable, or this whole thing will be for nothing. The last thing I want is two marriages under my belt by the time I turn thirty. If anyone can make her come around, it’s me.
One skill my grandfather taught me was you need to be able to read people in order to bend them at your will. You need to find what out makes them tick and use it to your advantage. I know Charlene needs to feel valued, I figured that much out already, so I’m confident that I can play on that and make her feel needed. If I can manage that, then I'll be set.
The moment we walk through the front door I can tell she’s impressed. Hell, I’m impressed and I’ve lived here for three years. The views from this condo are incredible. Every angle gives its own snapshot of the city, which was the main reason I had to have this place. She wanders around, looking out of each of the huge, full-length windows. She even manages a smile, and for a second, I think maybe she’s beginning to let her guard down.
“Do you have a thing for views?” she asks me after a moment.
“Excuse me?” I chuckle, surprised at her question. “I like the view I have right here, if that’s what you’re asking,” I murmur. I stare directly at her with a smirk on my face, until she blushes and looks down.
“You know what I mean. Your office has a stunning view, and now here? It’s a lot of skyline to take in,” she says.
I shrug, pretending I haven’t really thought about it.
She’s right, of course. I do have a thing for views, and I’m impressed that she picked up on it. I accomplish a lot of my thinking overlooking some of the best sceneries in the world. I rarely turn on my $12,000 TV because I prefer to watch something real, something I can lose myself in.
“I’ll show you to your room,” I say after a moment.
She nods and follows me down the hallway toward the last of the four bedrooms. The fact that it’s the closest to my room has nothing to do with me giving her this one. Well, not entirely. It’s also the biggest of the four—after my room, and has its own bathroom and a huge walk-in wardrobe that I thought she might appreciate.
“Here we are,” I murmur, pushing open the door. She walks inside, her eyes widening as she looks around.
“Are you sure this is mine?” she whispers, turning back to me.
I chuckle. “Yes, it’s all yours. That’s assuming you don’t want to sleep in my room?” She glares at me, which just makes me laugh, because I’m only half joking.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” I say, walking back out. “Come down when you’re ready, okay?” She nods, and I close the door.
I make my way back down to the living room, and then walk over to the bar I have set up against the far wall. It’s also built into the balcony, which means you can access it from inside, or out. I pour myself a drink. Scotch, no ice, and only the best quality.
I wander outside, taking a sip of my drink along the way. I sigh and let the expensive liquid burn its way down my throat before I swallow, letting it slowly dull my senses. It takes the edge off what has been a long day. But a successful day, no less.
The first
of my grandfather’s requirements is finally fulfilled, and I’m relieved, but still cautious. I’m married. I never thought I’d see the day, but here I am, with a ring on my finger to prove it. I glance down at the plain gold band and sigh. Mother had insisted on the rings, for show more than anything else. I’d agreed, just to get her off my back.
With the marriage out of the way, I’ve now got just under three months to get Charlene pregnant. I can pretend I’m not nervous about that, but let’s face it, I am. I’m used to getting whatever I want, but with Charlene, that just isn’t happening. Women throw themselves at me all the time, but she’s different. I know she likes me, but for whatever reason, she just won’t let her guard down enough to be with me.
She’s so damn stubborn and independent, and while it’s a refreshing change, refreshing isn’t what I need right now. I need compliance, someone who will just do what I tell them to do, without an argument. The problem is that she’s been let down so many times before, so now she finds it hard to trust. I need to change that, but I don’t know how. I need to find a way to make her let me in. I have to believe that I can do this, but I know it’s going to be a challenge.
Three months to get her pregnant.
It’s a big call. Even if we start now, short of assistive technology, there are no guarantees that it will be successful in time. I don’t regret not telling her about the child, because it would’ve been a hard no. At least this way there is a chance. That is, if my mother and brothers don’t let it slip what I’m keeping from her.
Maybe Shannon would’ve been a safer bet.
Safer, yes, but where’s the fun in safe? I’m all about taking risks. It’s what I do, and Charlene is definitely worth the risk. This will all work out. My only worry, aside from my family letting it slip about the child, is Shannon.
Things with Shannon had gone less than ideally, but the end result was what I’d wanted, so all was fine. I wouldn’t put it past her to approach the media for a bigger slice of cash, so I made sure I was paying her more than anyone else could offer her. I gave Shannon half of her hundred-grand hush money now, and the rest she’d receive when Charlene and I were over.