Claiming His Wedding Night

by Louise Fuller

  But she didn’t need to share his fear and pain and guilt and anger. Slowly, deliberately, he met her gaze. ‘I don’t remember saying that.’

  Addie looked at him in confusion. ‘You said we’d take things one day at a time. You just said it.’

  ‘I meant carry on as we are one day at a time. Or a week at a time, if you prefer. Obviously there won’t be the same financial terms, but I’m happy to give you an allowance.’

  She felt dizzy; her breathing was all wrong—jerky and out of time. For a moment she felt flattened. Earlier, standing by his side in that beautiful gilded room, she had actually started to believe in them...in their future. But now she realised that whatever future they might have had it had ended before it had ever begun.

  ‘A week at a time...?’ she echoed. Her heart seemed to be shrinking, its beat slowing. Was he actually offering to keep her on as his mistress on a weekly basis?

  ‘If you prefer.’ He shrugged. ‘We can see how it goes.’

  She nodded mechanically, unable to speak. And then, glancing down, she realised he was still holding her by the waist. Breathing in, she reached down and pushed his hands away.

  ‘You utter bastard,’ she said slowly. ‘What is wrong with you? How can you sit there and suggest this? That I be your mistress on some kind of zero-hours contract like I’m a chambermaid?’ She shook her head; her stomach was churning.

  His eyes were cold. ‘You’re being irrational. I’m simply offering the same deal with slightly modified terms. If it’s the money that’s a problem—’

  ‘Go to hell!’ she snarled. Her hands curling into fists, she took a step backwards. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she whispered. ‘I actually thought we could try again. That we could give our marriage a second chance. I must have been out of my mind.’

  ‘If you thought I was going to renew my vows to a woman who slept with me for money, then I’d have to agree with you,’ he said coldly.

  Stepping forward, she slapped him across the face.

  For a moment there was no sound except the distant downtown traffic and her frantic, uneven breathing.

  Her eyes were wide and stunned, as though he had slapped her. ‘I can’t do this any more. I know loving you is hard. I did it before and it nearly broke me. I wanted to keep fighting for us. But I can’t. I’ve got to think of myself now, and you will never give me what I need—how can you? You don’t have it to give, Malachi.’

  He took a step towards her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘You need to calm down.’

  She stared at him, her whole body trembling. ‘No. I need to leave.’

  Turning, she began to walk, then run towards the staircase.

  ‘We have a deal, Addie.’ His voice was like ice.

  Her foot was on the top step as she turned to face him. ‘So sue me. And while you’re at it you can divorce me too.’

  And, grabbing hold of the rail, she ran lightly down the stairs.

  CHAPTER TEN

  STORMING BACK INTO the suite, Addie stared wildly around the elegant room, blind to its beauty. Tears of anger and disbelief were burning her throat and she barely knew what she was doing. All her efforts, every thought, every breath, were concentrated on one goal. Getting as far away as possible from the man who had broken her heart for the second time.

  Even though it meant she would never see him again.

  A wave of misery hit her head-on and she had to press her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out loud. For one mad moment she thought about running back upstairs to tell him she’d changed her mind.

  But if she stayed, if she accepted his offer, what did she think was going to happen?

  Surely she didn’t actually believe that Malachi was going to wake up one morning and miraculously be in love with her? If love meant honesty and trust and sharing more than just bodies then he didn’t know how to love. Seeing him with his parents, feeling his pain and confusion after their party, had felt like a defining moment in their relationship. As if from then on things would be different between them. Only it could never be any different. She saw that now—saw that he was way too damaged, too detached, ever to love her as she needed to be loved.

  His insulting offer to renew their ‘deal’ had simply made that fact undeniable.

  She let out a long, slow breath. Facing the facts, while not pleasant, at least made her options clear. She had made a mistake—a stupid, humiliating mistake—by agreeing to his stupid, humiliating deal. But at least she had only traded sex for money. To stay would be a far bigger mistake, for she would be trading her self-respect for a bunch of worthless dreams.

  She wasn’t going to give her heart to a man who thought a woman’s role was to look beautiful and glamorous and provide sex. Nor was she going to shed any more tears.

  Catching sight of her handbag, she snatched it up gratefully. It had everything she needed: money, and most important, her passport. She wanted nothing else—not even her own clothes; all of them were unwearable now anyway—sullied by that horrible, insulting offer he’d made to her.

  Stepping into the waiting lift, she squared her shoulders. But as the lift slid slowly to a stop she felt some of her bravado fade. Now what? She couldn’t just sit around in the reception area. But the hotel was nowhere near the airport. And although she might have braved public transport during daylight, she didn’t feel confident about tackling the metro on her own in the early hours of the morning.

  There was no avoiding it. She was going to have to speak to someone at the main desk about ordering a taxi. She certainly wasn’t going to get to the airport otherwise. Her chest tightened. But there was no other way.

  She walked quickly across the foyer. Behind the desk, the young receptionist looked up from her computer screen and smiled, and said in near perfect English, ‘Good morning. My name is Carolina. How may I help you?’

  Addie was about to reply when the girl’s smile faded, a blush colouring her cheeks and brow. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s Ms Farrell, isn’t it? You’re staying in the Cruz-Rojas suite with Mr King.’

  Nodding, Addie gripped the edge of the desk and forced herself to smile.

  ‘Yes. That’s right.’ Horrified that the girl might be about to start asking questions about her stay, she said quickly, ‘I wonder, would it be possible for you to order a taxi for me? To take me to the airport?’

  Her lungs seemed to shrivel inside her chest as the girl shook her head apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Farrell. We don’t actually use taxis at this hotel. Most of our guests prefer their own transport.’

  Addie felt her heart start to race. Of course they did. Like Malachi, they probably all had private cars with chauffeurs to take them wherever they wanted to go. She shivered. She would rather crawl over broken glass than go back upstairs to ask that monster for anything.

  ‘But...’ The receptionist looked at her earnestly. ‘We do operate a complimentary limousine service to the airport. Would you like me to arrange one for you?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Yes, please.’ Addie felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. ‘As soon as possible.’

  She wasn’t worried that Malachi would try and stop her. He hadn’t even come after her when she’d stormed out of their wedding, and he hated scenes. But she felt so tired, and her self-control was slipping. She wasn’t going to be able to hold it together for much longer—

  ‘Miss Farrell?’ It was the receptionist—Carolina. ‘We have a limousine waiting for you outside. Your driver is Luis. Have a good trip.’ She smiled shyly at Addie. ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’

  Addie nodded, emotion choking her.

  Yes, she was. She was going home.

  Everything was going to be all right. Soon Malachi King would be just a distant memory and she would marvel at the fact that he had ever had the power to hurt her.

  * * *

  Eyes narrowed, Malachi stared angrily across the empty roof garden. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. What did she expect from him? In fact, why did
she expect anything from him anyway?

  His mouth curled in frustration. Throwing all those accusations at him and storming off like that. It was just like their wedding all over again.

  And saying she wanted him to divorce her? The blood pounded in his ears. He had never even thought about a divorce. Probably he never would have if she hadn’t thrown it in his face—

  That thought was still uppermost in his mind when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Skin tingling, half expecting it to be Addie, he pulled it out. Glancing at the screen, he felt his stomach tighten. It was a message from his father.

  We’re in New York, at the Aviation Club. Serena says to tell you we’re having a party on Saturday. If you can behave, you’re welcome to join us. Bring that sweet little redhead if you like. I attach a peace offering—

  Malachi stopped reading. There was more—something to do with a money transfer—but he didn’t care enough to finish the message. Opening up the attachment, he watched the bodies on the screen in silence. Abruptly, he switched it off.

  He could almost hear Henry’s cool, detached voice inside his head. Bring that sweet little redhead if you like. It knocked the breath out of his body that his father could actually suggest that. He had tried so hard to make it clear to Henry that Addie was out of bounds. So why—?

  Lifting his head, he stared bleakly up at the moon, its pale, pure beauty making his heart contract. He knew why; he’d known why since he was a small child, only he had never wanted or been able to confront the truth before. But it was simple really.

  For Henry and Serena drama and tension were more important than love and loyalty. For them life was a series of spectacles for which anything could be sacrificed—including their son’s happiness. And when things—or people—got messy or boring, they simply got rid of them and moved on. The ground felt suddenly unsteady beneath his feet as he remembered what it had felt like: the unspoken threat, the fear that one day they would get rid of him.

  Shakily he ran his hand over his face, panic swelling inside him. Only with shock he realised that he wasn’t panicking about losing his parents.

  But about losing Addie.

  It hurt. Just thinking about her not being there.

  Hurt because he loved her.

  His heart gave a jerk as finally he faced the truth.

  He loved her.

  His face was impassive but his whole body was shaking. Why hadn’t he realised?

  He’d spent his entire life reading people. Spotting their weaknesses, their deceits and delusions. Yet he’d failed to notice that he was in love.

  Worse, he had bullied and manipulated the woman he loved into being his mistress, using her loyalty to her charity to get his own way.

  For a moment he stood frozen and then he turned.

  He needed to explain, to apologise, to tell her how he felt. Now. Before it was too late.

  Heart pounding, he started to walk, then run towards the staircase.

  But where was she?

  Downstairs, Malachi stared uneasily around the empty suite. He had imagined Addie to be hurtling around the room, tossing clothes into her suitcase. Only the bedroom felt still and lifeless. Slowly he checked the other rooms, his pulse racing. But she wasn’t there.

  She couldn’t have actually left—

  Feeling sick on the inside, he checked the rooms again. And then his heart jerked as he pulled open the wardrobe door. Her suitcase was still there—and all her clothes and shoes. He felt almost numb with relief. She would hardly abandon all her stuff if she was leaving him. At the very least she would take her handbag.

  Glancing round, his heart missed a beat. It was gone and so was Addie. His breath felt suddenly tight and panicky in his chest and, crossing the room in three quick strides, he picked up the phone and rang Reception.

  ‘Mr King. How may I help?’

  ‘Miss Farrell—’ he began.

  ‘Yes, sir. The limousine has already left.’

  He went cold.

  ‘Left? When? Where?’ The stunned silence at the end of the phone echoed inside his head. ‘Where has she gone?’ he demanded hoarsely, not caring that he sounded nothing like his cool public persona.

  ‘To the airport. She left ten minutes ago.’

  He barely heard the receptionist’s trembling reply. Inside his head one question was repeating itself over and over again.

  What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?

  More importantly, what was he going to do now?

  * * *

  Gazing up out of the window of the limousine, Addie watched the lights of an aeroplane move slowly through the night sky, growing smaller and smaller until finally they disappeared altogether. She sighed. Soon she would be on a plane just like that one and all this—this misery and mess—would be left far behind. In another country. In another life.

  She glanced slowly around the luxurious cream leather interior of the limousine. All this luxury would be gone soon too.

  But she didn’t care. None of it mattered. She would have traded all of it to make Malachi love her. To make her marriage work. Her heart squeezed inside her chest. She loved him so much. But it hadn’t been enough.

  Sighing, she glanced at the clock on the limousine’s dashboard and then closed her eyes. If she was lucky she might be able to catch a flight back home in the next few hours, but it was going to be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow. Only she wasn’t going to spend it wallowing in the past and in self-pity. She lifted her chin. From now on, she was only going to go forward.

  After what felt like no time at all, the limousine slowed, and opening her eyes, she glanced out of the window as it slid to a stop. She frowned. What the hell was the chauffeur playing at? They weren’t at the airport: they were back at the hotel.

  Leaning forward she banged angrily on the screen behind his head. ‘Excuse me...er...Luis? What are you doing? I want to go to the airport!’

  Frantically she tried to think of the words in Spanish, but before she could even muster up a basic sentence he had got out of the car and opened her door.

  ‘What is going on? Hablo—habla inglès?’ she said, staring up at him in frustration. ‘No. You don’t understand. I need to go the airport—’

  Still holding the door open, the chauffeur stared impassively ahead. Realising she was getting nowhere, Addie slid past him and stalked angrily back into the hotel and up to the reception desk.

  ‘Hello,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It’s Carolina, isn’t it? I’m sorry, but your driver—I don’t think he quite understands what I want him to do. He was supposed to be taking me to the airport but he’s brought me back here.’

  The girl bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Farrell. But he was given new instructions.’

  Addie gazed at her in frustration. ‘What do you mean, new instructions? I thought he was my driver.’ She pointed in exasperation to where Luis stood, still looking straight ahead.

  ‘He—he is,’ the girl stammered. ‘But there was a change of plan.’

  Addie shook her head. ‘Not by me. So who changed it?’

  ‘That would be me!’

  There was a long, frozen pause and then Addie turned slowly round. Standing in the centre of the foyer, Malachi was watching her, his eyes fixed on her face.

  ‘Then I suggest you change it back again,’ she said through gritted teeth. Her heart was racing with anger.

  Slowly he shook his head. ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  ‘It’s not up to you.’ She stared at him furiously. ‘You might be important to some people but you don’t have any power in this hotel.’

  He met her gaze. ‘That’s not strictly true. I do pay their wages.’

  Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Really?’ she said coldly. ‘By the day? Or by the week?’

  A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘I think they’re all quite happy with their contracts.’

  ‘Lucky them,’ she snapped. ‘But, fascinating though this is, I’m
sure you didn’t drag me back here to discuss your staff’s employment contracts. So what is it, Malachi? What do you want?’

  ‘We didn’t finish our conversation.’

  ‘No, we did, Malachi. You just didn’t have the last word.’ She gave a tired laugh. ‘Is that what this is about?’ She shook her head, her mouth curving contemptuously. ‘Fine, then—just say it. Go on.’

  He glanced past her. ‘Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private.’

  She felt the air punch out of her lungs. Shaking her head, she met his gaze. ‘No. We should not. I’m not going anywhere with you, Malachi. So, short of abducting me, you’re going to have say whatever it is you want to say right here.’

  He stared at her in silence, his eyes never leaving her face. Finally he shrugged. ‘As you wish.’

  Glancing past her, he smiled.

  ‘Gracias, Carolina y Luis. I can take it from here.’

  Then before Addie had a chance to react, he had crossed the foyer and tipped her body up over his shoulders.

  ‘Put me down!’ Twisting, kicking, struggling, she beat her hands against his back. ‘Malachi! You can’t do this.’ She felt his arm tighten around her legs and then, hearing the lift doors open, she began to yell. ‘Call the police! I don’t care if he’s your boss—’

  The lift doors closed in front of her.

  ‘You can’t do this! Put me down!’

  Abruptly he leaned forward and she slid ignominiously from his shoulder. Immediately she rushed at him, but he caught her easily, holding her flailing arms by the wrists.

  ‘Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I told you—I just want to talk.’

  Yanking her arms away, she ignored him. Opening her bag, she pulled out her phone. ‘I am going to call the police and have you arrested, and you can see how you like talking to them—’

  Taking her phone away from her ear, she stared at the screen irritably.

  ‘Let me guess. No signal?’ Malachi said helpfully. ‘You won’t get one inside the lift.’

  ‘Fine!’ she spat. ‘I’ll ring when we get to the suite.’

  He nodded. ‘That would work.’

  Pausing, he turned and opened a small door in the side of the lift, slid a card into it and swiped it down.