Claiming His Bought Bride

by Rachel Bailey

  She kept her eyes on his hands. “That’s what it was like in my dad’s so-called job. Work came first. He barely noticed anything else until he won or his money ran out.” She met his gaze. “It’s your choice to live that way, solely for your own needs and priorities. But it’s no way to raise a child.”

  “Lily,” he said, using his most soothing tone, “this is an overreaction about one event. I know it was less than good timing for you but—”

  “It wasn’t just one time,” she interrupted, then bit down so hard on her lip, he worried she might break the skin and draw blood. “A week before that, I rang because I needed you. We’d had news that Gran’s leg required surgery.”

  He frowned, searching his memory. “I don’t remember that.”

  “I know.” She gave a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I waited until after work hours then rang and said I needed to see you. All I wanted was your arms around me, you telling me everything would be all right. But you had a lead on stocks from a mining company you were after. You said you’d be there all night.”

  Irritation flared as he set his jaw, hardly able to believe she’d chosen that one night. “That was an extraordinary circumstance. That company was vitally important.”

  “We were only together six months, Damon, but I could give you at least five other examples. If that’s how dependable and committed you are during a honeymoon phase, how would you act after five years? Or ten?”

  She sat up, clutching his bathrobe tighter, letting his arm slide away. “At the beginning I thought I could handle it, but the more it happened…” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if chasing away a horrid image. Finally she took a deep breath and met his gaze again. “I couldn’t live with the neglect or hurt of being dismissed as less important than work.” She gulped in a mouth of air. “I’m sorry but the bottom line is…you’re just not the kind of man I need.”

  His face burned as if she’d slapped him hard and for an instant he thought she might have. He felt his jaw clench but collected himself, waited a beat then spoke in a carefully controlled voice, barely moving a muscle. “And what kind is that?”

  Her eyes filled with tears and one spilled over, creeping down her cheek. “The kind who’s there for me. And my baby.”

  A stab of self-doubt penetrated the barrier he’d carefully built around himself over the years. But he deflected it and cleared his throat. He could handle this. Handle her. He needed to remind her of one crucial fact. “Our baby, Lily.”

  “Our baby,” she conceded softly. She stood and secured the already snug-fitting robe around herself as she headed for the bathroom.

  Damon scrubbed his hands through his hair. He could fix this setback. First and foremost he was a troubleshooter. A damn good one. He could gain control here with the same expertise he used in a takeover bid, ensuring he kept her and his baby. He needed a plan—a foolproof one.

  A way to prove he was the only man she needed.

  As the plane taxied down the runway two days later and leaped into the sky, Lily settled back, surrounded by her wide seat for the four-hour flight from Auckland to Melbourne.

  She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Was part of her fatigue from flying while pregnant? Not being a world traveler, she had no idea, but sleepless nights certainly hadn’t helped.

  Damon reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers. “You okay?”

  Since the incredible lovemaking and the ensuing tense conversation on their wedding night, things had been exceedingly polite between them. He hadn’t tried to seduce her again and for that she was grateful.

  Well, mostly grateful. He’d slept on the couch both nights—including the first night after they’d made love—leaving her restless, in a heated tangle of sheets, aching for him. Several times she’d been at the bedroom door in a haze of need, heading for his sleeping form before she caught herself. The wrench of turning from him had been almost unbearable, but she couldn’t afford to give in again—she might not have the strength to pull away as she’d already done.

  So, yes, she was grateful. He was honoring her wishes; why would she undermine that? She’d created the distance between them, made her bed. Now she had to lie in it.

  Though deep down she wondered if he was planning something. Damon wasn’t the type to give in easily, particularly not now that he’d decided she was a necessity of life.

  Perhaps politeness was his latest tactic? Lull her into a false sense of security before bringing out the heavy artillery.

  She sighed. If so, there was nothing to do but wait for the show. She was simply too exhausted to even think about it now.

  He was still looking at her, waiting for her reply about whether she was okay. She gave him a weary smile. “When I’ve had more sleep, I’ll feel better.”

  With a conspiratorial gleam in his eye, he said, “I’ve organized a few surprises to take the load off when we get back.”

  Heart sinking, she stifled a groan. Anything Damon thought would be a pleasant surprise was likely as not to cause more stress. She turned her head against the headrest and faced him. “What surprises?”

  He squeezed her hand, still interlaced with his. “No need for concern, sweetheart. They’re good things.” His gaze slid over her body and he smiled. “To make your life easier.”

  As if cold fingers gripped her throat tightly, she couldn’t speak. Had she just been thinking they had distance? And now he’d confirmed her dark suspicions—he’d been strategizing all this time. And whatever he had organized, it wasn’t as innocent as he implied.

  She swallowed and tried to make her throat work. “I’d rather know now.” When he pressed his lips together and looked as if he wouldn’t divulge any more, she added, “Don’t make me worry all the way home, Damon. Please just tell me what you’ve organized.”

  He considered a moment then smiled indulgently. “I’ve had your furniture and belongings moved into my new house. I used an outfit my company’s called in before. They go in, pack everything, move it and unpack at the other end. Your things will be exactly as you left them in your place, down to the position of your hairbrush on the dresser in our room.”

  Lily shook her head and tried to clear her fuzzy mind. Did he just say that strangers had handled everything she owned, including the private and personal? That, whether she’d wanted to move every last thing or not, all her belongings were now in his new house, which she’d never seen and had absolutely no links with. And that her personal belongings would be in their room!

  A dull throb began behind her eyes and she spoke through flattened lips. “You moved my things. Without asking or even telling me?”

  His brows drew together in a confused frown. “I didn’t want you lifting boxes while you’re pregnant, or worrying about the move. I read that stress can cause miscarriage.” His eyelids dropped to half-mast, ice-blue irises determined. “I plan to make your life one hundred percent hassle-free.”

  She almost laughed at the irony. After all the neglect in their earlier dating life, now he’d decided to go to the other extreme.

  The dull throb drummed and pounded. She lifted a free hand to shield her sensitive gaze from the window’s light. And he wanted to reduce her worry because she was pregnant. Right. He didn’t think moving her things would cause stress? Was he blind?

  No—she sighed—he was just being Damon.

  She shook her head and kept her voice calm. “I told you I won’t share your bedroom. I’ve said it over and over, in fact.”

  He looked at her as if she needed a gentle reminder. “You were with me all the way the other night on the carpet. Whether you say the words or not, it’s obvious—you want this as much as I do.”

  She flushed. “That was once.”

  “It was twice for you, if I remember correctly.” Heat flared in his gaze as it roamed her face, landing on her mouth. “Even if you count it as once, it was still the best once of our lives. Surely you won’t throw that away.”

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nbsp; Her body tingled as he lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingertips, then her eyes were drawn as he casually shifted his long legs, the muscles of his strong thigh outlined by the fabric. An answering flame to the one she’d seen in his eyes lit inside her. She closed her eyes to douse the sensation before she lost sight of her anger at his easy dismissal of her viewpoint. Had he listened at all to what she said after they’d made love?

  Suddenly she understood. He’d listened too well. Maybe this was Damon proving he could be there for her. If so, he’d missed the point. And as soon as he thought he’d convinced her, he’d return to his workaholic ways.

  He stroked his thumb along the back of her hand—meant to be soothing, it was anything but to her taut nerves. “It’s not complicated, Lily. We’re married, expecting a baby, and we need each other—I need you to get what Travis stole from me, and you need me for the financial security you’ve always wanted. Besides, even if none of that existed, I’d still want you with me.” His mouth curved into a charismatic smile. “Relax, you don’t have to fight me. I’m not the enemy.”

  Lily closed her eyes against the window light and Damon, and knew there was no point arguing now. She’d have to work it out when they got back. When she wasn’t so bone-tired.

  But first, though she might not like the answer, she pushed the question out. “What else have you done?”

  His thumb traced a circle on the pulse of her wrist. “I’ve told Melissa to hire some extra help for the house. With two of us and soon a baby, there will be more housework, and I don’t want you to lift a finger.”

  His smile morphed into one of tender arrogance that only he could pull off. “I’ll look after you and the baby—” his voice lowered “—no matter what.”

  Easing out an exasperated sigh, she opened her eyes and fixed them on his. To anyone listening, it might sound like a dream offer—and no doubt it would be if they had a real marriage, based on mutual respect and love, a marriage that had a chance of survival. Then she’d have gratefully welcomed his offer—and everything else that went with it, including a physical relationship.

  Or if he’d made the arrangements from consideration rather than his real motive: to keep her close, to keep his baby under his roof. Her body iced over at the thought of being trapped again where she didn’t count as a real person. If she wasn’t careful, her baby could end up with that fate in his or her own home.

  “It’s the only solution.” He stroked her cheek with a crooked finger. “I plan to spoil you rotten. You’ll never want to leave.”

  Her cheek tingled from the brush of his finger.

  And therein lay the problem. Even frustrated at him and knowing they had no future, she feared he was right. If history repeated itself, she might never want to leave.

  The man she wanted with every beat of her heart had promised to spoil her rotten. If only she didn’t know better. If only he hadn’t chosen the exact words her father had used with her mother before each game of cards.

  “I’ll win big this time, Audrey. You just wait. I’ll spoil you rotten when I do.”

  And sometimes he did. He’d score a windfall and then blow it all on her mother and buying a stake into the next game.

  He’d buy Lily presents, too, dolls, dresses, toys. And then get a babysitter while he took his wife out to celebrate.

  But a week later he’d pawn her new dolls and toys, deaf to her pleas and wrenching sobs as he ripped them from her arms.

  By the time she was six, Lily had learned not to become attached to presents or material things—they could disappear as quickly as they came.

  The plane hit an air pocket, jolting her out of the memory.

  She surveyed Damon’s arrogant face—the confident smile on his sensual mouth, his ice-blue eyes with their distinctive black ring, the proud nose. Then steeled herself to ask in a dull voice, “Is that all? Are there any more surprises?”

  He arched an eyebrow, pleased with her question. “I plan to keep surprising you but there’s one more for now. I asked Melissa to set up interviews for a nanny. The good ones are booked in advance, so it’s not too early to start looking. She should have some appointments set up for when we get back.”

  A scream built in her throat but she swallowed it back. “You should have checked with me first,” she said through gritted teeth. This was a step too far. In fact, he’d overstepped her line in the sand by about a mile.

  He might have fathered this child, but the decision on who cared for her child when she couldn’t was hers, and hers alone.

  He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “We needed a nanny and I’ve organized for one.”

  Her blood simmered up into seething ire. He still didn’t get it? “I don’t want a nanny. I’ve checked with my boss and arranged maternity leave. I’ll raise this baby.”

  And after that leave was over, she’d be the one to arrange care. There was talk about setting up a crèche at the gallery, which would be perfect, but whatever happened, she would not be coerced into choosing one form of care over another.

  He nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way. I want our baby to have the best and that’s you. But the nanny will help. She can take the baby while you nap and she can prepare his meals. A spare set of hands.”

  Her jaw fell open. How dare he supervise her life—her life with her baby—this way? There was no way she’d put up with his kind of dictatorship. “Damon—”

  “Look—” his brow creased in sincerity “—maybe I’ve worded this badly, but I’m trying to help.”

  Still holding her hand, he squeezed gently. “I’m trying, Lily. I want us to work.”

  Brain weary, emotionally drained and too exhausted to fight, her body begged for nothing more than eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. She pressed her eyes shut and wondered if his attempt to help was genuine. A first step on the path to being the kind of man she and her baby needed?

  She opened one eye and looked over his features, resentment ebbing away. Despite all the anguish and the worry and the doubt…could Damon become that man? Even doing it all the wrong way, was he actually getting something right?

  Perhaps a leopard could change his spots.

  As they stood waiting for the rest of their luggage, Damon switched on his phone, then grimaced.

  “I have to make a call.” His quick smile served as an apology. “Wait here with the trolley.”

  He strode away to the carousel, talking into his earpiece. A few minutes later, he reappeared with her suitcase, still talking a mile to the minute. As he left for the luggage collection, his expression was the epitome of a hassled CEO needed elsewhere.

  When he returned, he’d finished his call and held his own suitcase. “There’s an emergency at work. I have to go in.”

  Her heart sank. It had started already. It seemed leopards couldn’t change their spots after all. “Of course you do,” she said, not hiding the weariness in her voice.

  He put the suitcase down and cupped her shoulders. “I wanted to be there when you walked into our place for the first time.” It was as close to an apology as Damon came. His hands drifted down her arms, rubbing slightly. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

  He shook his head as if he had no choice. In his mind, he probably didn’t. But there were always choices. Some of Damon’s had been made long ago and were nonnegotiable. Such as, business and money-accumulation came before personal concerns. Every single time.

  He stepped closer and brought her against him. “We’ll catch separate cabs, and I’ll see you at home tonight.”

  Over his shoulder, Lily checked a clock suspended from the ceiling. Two o’clock.

  He’d taken a stream of calls while they were away. But was it too much to ask that he at least accompany her to his new house? If he’d left her belongings at her place so she could go home, sleep, then organize the things she wanted moved, she wouldn’t have minded. But he’d jumped the gun and moved her into his home. And now she’d be going, alone, to
a house she’d never seen.

  He relaxed his grip and she stepped back to see his face. But she saw in his eyes that he’d already left. “You’re running out on me.” She hated the accusing note in her voice, and in that moment she hated him, for putting it there.

  He blew out a breath and ran long fingers through his hair. “There’s been a snag in arrangements for my father’s company.”

  Her weariness hit her full force. In the end, it always came back to BlakeCorp. She’d lost this battle before it had even begun. A little piece of her heart died. Time to face reality. Nothing, but nothing had changed. “You don’t even own BlakeCorp yet.”

  He shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. “I want everything in place for when I do.”

  Her sorrow balled into a tight knot. His words, perfectly reasonable words, explained her situation with exceptional clarity. Theirs was a marriage on paper, one in which they would keep their emotional distance. So why should his brush-off hurt so much?

  But she knew why. She’d tasted his passion again and believed it contained more than a morsel of honesty, and now she couldn’t shake those memories. He’d imprinted that glorious abandon with all its endless possibilities upon her mind and soul so that it was impossible to erase.

  Calling on years of practice, she swallowed and nodded. “Go.”

  He took his keys from a pocket and extracted a solid silver one from the chain. “Melissa should be there. I’ll call her from the cab and let her know the change of plans. But just in case, here’s the front door key. It’s yours.”

  Lily took the key and turned it in her palm. It was similar to his old house key, the one she’d posted back after they’d broken up. The first time she’d realized she couldn’t rely on him. Tears rose to sting the back of her nose.

  Damon brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “Come on. The sooner we get going, the sooner I can get home to you.”