I didn’t wait for her to confirm or deny it. Even if she had said she couldn’t divulge that information until I was officially a client, it didn’t matter. I already knew the answer. When I wanted something, I got it.
“I want you to facilitate a temporary contract for me with Keaton. Her father hired my company to provide security for her, with the very explicit instruction that she be unaware. As her husband—in name only, of course—I’d have complete access to her without raising any questions.”
“I wasn’t under the impression that Keaton was looking for a temporary situation,” Julia commented. “How would you suggest I explain that to her?”
“We can make up a reason.” I shrugged. “Terms of a will?”
Julia tapped her lips with her index finger as she contemplated my words. When she finally released her lips, she said, “I suppose that could work.”
“Also, we should include a monetary severance at the conclusion of our contract. Make it clear this is a marriage of convenience.”
Her mouth tilted up at the corners into a tiny smirk. “And if you decide to stay married?”
I blinked at her in confusion, feeling my brow furrow. “I don’t see why that is a relevant scenario to consider. When the job is done, we’ll go our separate ways. If she chooses to try again with another match, that’s her business.” I was being completely logical, but for some reason, the words left a sour taste in my mouth.
Julia was silent for so long it would’ve made a lesser man uncomfortable. Then she tapped a perfectly manicured nail on her glass desktop. “All right. I’ll help you out. Leave the details to me. I’ll contact Keaton, and we’ll have the contracts signed the day after tomorrow. When you choose to get married is up to you.”
We discussed a few more details, then shook hands, and I left, entirely confident in my plan.
…
I waited on the courthouse steps for my “bride” to arrive, glancing at my watch impatiently. She’d had a detail on her for the few days it took to get everything ironed out, file the necessary paperwork, and get an appointment with a judge. I knew she was safe, but I was eager to finally take over.
In order to have a genuinely surprised response to the marriage from her father, I’d kept the details to myself. The other reason was to keep him from derailing my plan. It helped that her tool of a father was out on the campaign trail until the end of the week.
The car I’d sent for her pulled up to the curb, and I jogged down the steps, waving away Jack and opening the door myself. His laughing eyes met my serious ones over the hood for a second, and he smirked before sweeping his hand out as though to say, “all yours.” I tipped my head to the side, confused about why he seemed to find this so amusing.
I’d hired him as my personal driver over a decade ago, having met him when I needed to hire a car service with drivers who had security clearance to transport high-profile clients. His personality and background in the military impressed me. I hired him the next day to head up our own internal car service, but he still insisted on driving me personally.
Over the years, we’d grown close, and he’d proven his loyalty time and again. He had become my best friend, despite his being my employee. His clearance level was as high as mine, so he was privy to all of my business. Which meant he knew very well that this was a business deal and nothing more. A means to completing a job and satisfying the client. His smirk grew into a full-blown grin at my reaction. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, ignoring him.
Returning my attention to the passenger in the car, I reached in to help her out and when a small, soft hand pressed against my palm, a jolt of electricity shot to my groin. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, and my cock sprang to life.
Been a long fucking time since that happened.
That could make things much more complicated. I tried to suppress the desire building inside me, but that was shot to hell when I felt the sparks between us at our first touch. Her skin was pale with a pinkish hue, and I almost laughed when I noticed her sparkly, blue nail polish. It was undoubtedly a very tame “fuck you” to her father, who demanded a conservative image.
I gently pulled, and as she stepped from the car, I was distracted by a pair of bright pink, strappy shoes with tall, spiked heels. They were attached to slender legs that had my mouth watering as I pictured them wrapped around my head. The next thing to emerge was a mass of wild, light brown curls that ended near her jawline. She climbed all the way out, then looked up, and I was momentarily paralyzed. I stared into dark, coffee-colored eyes, fringed with thick black lashes. Her high cheekbones, straight nose, and pink lips made her look like a fragile doll.
As she took in the sight of me, her eyes widened, and her pretty mouth opened slightly. I could only imagine how intimidating I must have seemed to her. She had a trim figure, with small but perky tits and a tiny waist. I was built like a fucking linebacker, and at six-two, I towered over her small frame. I was almost afraid that I would break her. But when her espresso gaze slid down my body and back up, it held a spark of fire that betrayed her attraction.
It was more than fucking mutual. I took a deep breath to try and control the urge to throw her back into the car and ravish her delicious body.
Her ragged inhale mirrored mine before she squared her shoulders and stood to her full height. She disengaged our hands, and it left me feeling empty. Then her mouth widened into a bright smile, warmth filled my body, and I felt as though I was bathed in the warmth of the sun.
“I assume you’re Garret?”
I grunted an affirmative response. She waited for me to say more and shifted awkwardly when I stayed silent. I wasn’t much of a talker as it was, and at the moment I’d found myself fucking speechless.
“Okay, um, well, I’m Keaton, your um…wife-to-be, I guess?”—she let out a nervous little laugh—“I suppose we should get going? We have an appointment, right? Do you know where we’re supposed to go? I’ve only stood on the steps with my father while he droned on about something or other. But I’ve always wondered what the inside looked like, since it’s a historical building. It’s kind of a cool place to—”
I cut off her adorable rambling by grabbing her hand once more and towing her behind me as I marched up the steps, inside the doors, and to our designated courtroom.
We signed the marriage license and then stood side-by-side as the judge performed the ceremony. I snapped out my “I do” at the right moment, restless at how long it was taking and ready to get Keaton home, where we would be alone.
When it was her turn, she looked at me uncertainly, probably put off by my tone. I should’ve reassured her, but a growl rumbled from my chest, and she promptly turned back to the judge and said, “I do.”
The ceremony concluded, and I ignored the judge’s “kiss the bride” comment, knowing once I tasted her lips, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I kept a firm hold on the hand I hadn’t let go of and guided her out to the waiting car. I wanted to drag her into my lap, but I settled for keeping her close to my side, our legs pressed together.
“So, you’ve got yourself an old ball and chain. For the next year, at least,” she teased, trying to lighten the tension-filled atmosphere.
That may have been what I’d intended, but now she had it all wrong. I’d known that things had changed the moment she’d taken my hand. It had taken me a few minutes to accept it, but I wasn’t one to shy away from my instincts, and every part of me knew the truth. She was mine.
This was no longer a temporary situation. I was keeping her forever.
Chapter Three
KEATON
Old ball and chain. Had I really just called myself that? Out loud? To my new, incredibly sexy husband? It was probably a good thing we hadn’t met in person before the ceremony or else he would have called the whole thing off because I had the annoying habit of blurting out everything that popped into my head when I was nervous. My dad had tried to break me of the tendency when he first got into politics, and I thought
I had it mostly under control.
Until now.
With Garret Hansen.
My husband!
I didn’t blame myself. Considering the situation, it was bound to happen. As insane as it sounded, I hadn’t bothered to ask to see a photo before agreeing to marry him. I probably should have, and under different circumstances I absolutely would have. But as soon as Julia told me she had the perfect match for me—a guy who was looking for a temporary arrangement, in name only, for a year—I’d jumped at the opportunity and hadn’t asked too many questions.
Not having to worry about sleeping with a virtual stranger or tying myself to him forever eased the worst of my concerns. Then she had confirmed that he was wealthy and attractive enough that the press would consider it a perfect match, so I figured if the media was satisfied, then my dad would be, too.
I was more than happy with the results.
But that was before I set eyes on the six foot, two inches of muscled yumminess currently sitting next to me. I finally understood the twinkle in Julia’s eyes when she’d said he was “attractive enough” that reporters wouldn’t second-guess me falling for him. With his blond hair and hazel eyes, Garret was drop-dead gorgeous. Any woman with halfway decent vision would find him wildly attractive, and mine was twenty-twenty. If my runaway mouth and the condition of my panties were any indication, I wasn’t the only woman in the world who wouldn’t be able to resist him.
If only I had asked to see his picture first…maybe I would’ve made some changes to the terms of our contract—specifically the part about our marriage being in name only. Because holy heck, how was I going to be able to stand living with him for a whole year without climbing his tall body like a spider monkey?
“A year,” he echoed. It doubled the number of words I’d heard him say so far. At least he’d chosen to repeat the least embarrassing part of what I’d said. Although I was beginning to worry that maybe it was a good thing he was pretty—I was starting to doubt his intelligence, since he wasn’t too verbal. Not to mention dragging me into the courthouse and back out again. It was total caveman behavior.
Don’t get me wrong—he was super-hot while hauling me around. But I wasn’t sure if he had the brains to go with the looks—or if I even wanted him to be smart, because that would only increase his hotness factor.
“Yeah, a year,” I drawled. “As in, the amount of time you specified you wanted a wife? It was right there, written in black and white on the contract we both signed less than forty-eight hours ago. And it was in there because it’s what you told Julia you wanted. She said it had something to do with needing to be married in order to fulfill the terms of a will?”
“I’m aware of what the contract said and the reasons behind that clause.”
His muscular thigh was flush against my leg, and the heat from his body burned through our layers of clothes. My reaction to him caused my voice to sound breathy when I asked, “Then why did you repeat it?”
“Because one thing I’ve learned in business is that just because you’ve signed on the dotted line doesn’t mean the terms of a contract are necessarily final.”
“Um,” I stammered. “Isn’t that exactly what signing a contract means? That you have a written agreement which both parties have accepted?”
He trailed his fingers along the material covering my thigh before wrapping his hand around mine. My panties practically combusted at the feel of his warm skin touching me. My hand clenched reflexively, and he threaded his fingers through mine to loosen my fist. My body clenched. Then the edges of his lips kicked up in a smug grin that made it clear he knew exactly how I was reacting to his touch. As impossible as it was to believe, it gave him even more notches on the hotness scale.
“The negotiations don’t have to be over, Keaton.” The way he said my name caused a tingling in very private places. “There are always amendments that can be made as long as everyone agrees to them.”
“What happens if both parties break a clause of the contract? Together? But without putting anything in writing about it first?” I asked cautiously. Like the one that said our marriage was in name only? Because with the way his thumb was brushing across my knuckles and how he was crowding me on the more-than-ample backseat of the car, I had the impression I wasn’t the only one considering sex. If he wanted to renegotiate that portion of our deal, I was more than willing to do so. Immediately. While naked.
Naked negotiation.
It had a certain ring to it. His gaze zeroed in on my face, and it seemed as though he’d just read my mind and knew all the dirty thoughts I had floating around inside it. Judging by the wicked glint in his hazel eyes, he was willing to give them all a try, and I was pretty sure he’d add some of his own ideas to the list.
“Well”—his raspy voice sent shivers down my spine as he flipped my hand over to run his thumb across my palm—“it doesn’t count as breach of contract when there’s mutual consent by both parties.”
“Oh really?” My heart sped up, causing my voice to shift higher in pitch. I wanted to crawl into a hole as my cheeks burned.
He smirked and brushed a finger over my heated skin before he bent his head low and breathed his next words into my ear. “Do you think we can come to an agreement about abandoning the ‘in name only’ part of our contract?”
“Maybe we should discuss exactly what something like that would entail?” I sounded as uncertain as I felt. Even though my hormones had decided this was the perfect moment to go haywire, he was still a stranger. A hot-as-sin one who happened to be my husband, but a stranger nonetheless. And I wasn’t the kind of girl to jump into bed with a guy she didn’t know. More specifically…I’d never jumped into bed with any guy at all.
“I’m amenable to that.” He lifted our hands and pressed a gentle kiss against my knuckles.
“But shouldn’t we know at least a little bit about each other before we reach that stage in the negotiations?”
“I already know an awful lot about you.” His eyes blazed as they raked over my body. “But not everything.”
“You do?” I squeaked.
“It comes with the territory, beautiful.”
I loved how those hazel eyes of his twinkled with humor, so much that it took a moment for his words to register. “Oh, right. Julia said something about you owning a security business of some kind?”
“Yes, we offer private security services for our clients.”
His response sounded practiced. Like it could have been the tagline for his website or something. “What kind of clients?”
“All sorts.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay, Mr. Mysterious. When I told Julia that I needed a husband who guards his privacy, I meant from the public. Not from me.”
His gaze shifted over my shoulder, out the passenger-side window. “When we get inside, I’ll answer anything you want to ask me.”
“Inside where?” I jerked my head around, and my mouth gaped open when I caught sight of the five-story townhouse we’d just pulled in front of. “Is that a garage?” My head swiveled from side to side while I took in the street we were on: East 61st. “Are we in Lenox Hill?”
“It is, and we are.”
“Holy crap,” I breathed out. A house like this had to cost at least twenty or thirty million dollars. “Who do you provide security for, royalty?”
“Sometimes,” he chuckled.
I gasped as the garage door rose and the car pulled inside. As soon as it was parked, Garret murmured something to the driver before helping me out of the car. The man in the front seat exited the vehicle as well, and Garret waved a hand toward him. “Keaton, that’s Jack. If I’m not available, he’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I don’t want you to go out without either myself or Jack.”
Jack smiled and gave me a small nod. “Nice to meet you, Keaton. As Garret said, I’ll be his substitute any time. For anything you need”—he smiled mischievously, obviously screwi
ng with Garret—“I’m at your service.”
I laughed as he approached me with his hand out for a shake, but when Garret growled and pulled me tighter into his side, Jack held up his hands in a surrender pose, his lips closed tight to suppress his smile, but his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.
Garret didn’t let go of my hand when he paused at an electronic control panel next to the door and pressed his thumb against it. Then he swept me off my feet—making me gasp in surprise and clutch at his shoulders—and carried me through the entryway into a foyer with a ceiling that went all the way to the top of the building.
“Whoa, this is where you live?”
“It’s where we live,” he corrected. “And I’ll be happy to give you the full tour later. For now, I’ll just show you the highlights.”
He set me on my feet and led me to the stairs directly to our left, stopping to point toward the hallway that led deeper into the house. “There’s a living room I use for entertaining guests that way, with a loft looking over the indoor pool in the basement. There’s also a sauna and workout room down there, plus a galley kitchen on this level.”
He continued to rattle off the amenities of his home as we walked up the stairs. Four guest bedrooms, a sunroom, an office, six bathrooms, a laundry room…and that was all before we reached the fourth floor, where the master suite was located. It took up the entire level and was apparently our destination, since he stopped there and pointed upstairs and said, “The main living room, kitchen, and dining room are up there, along with another bathroom. And there’s a rooftop terrace above that.”
I’d been raised in luxury and had even lived in the historic Gracie Mansion during my father’s term as mayor, but Garret’s home blew my dad’s current house away. And that was before he showed me the master bath—complete with a bidet, claw-footed tub, and walk-in closet—and dressing room…which had its own bathroom with a shower, plus fifteen smaller closets lining the walls with the exception of one section that had floor-to-ceiling mirrors and another where there was a padded bench. Fifteen.
Bought for Protection (Bought by the Billionaire Book 3) Page 2