“Calm down? If you wanted me calm, then you shouldn’t have paid your men to spy on me. It’s bad enough you have Jonathan babysit me when you go out of town.”
Jonathan had assumed his post just outside the door. His face was set in hard lines, but Olivia thought she detected a slight crack in the stoic facade at the mention of the word “babysit.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You can bitch me out all day tomorrow, but right now let’s take you over to the hospital.”
“No.” Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant stance. She had the same dark wavy hair as her brother, and, while her blue eyes reflected a bone-deep fatigue, there was a fire in them that reminded Olivia of Cole as well.
“Someone should check you out.”
“I just let myself get a little dehydrated, Cole. I’m fine.”
“But—”
“No buts. And no hospital. I’ve spent enough time in that place. I just want to sleep in my own bed.” The tension in her small frame eased a bit, and a smile played on her lips. “But I’m still going to bitch you out all day.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fine. If you agree to let me put you to bed and stay until you fall asleep?”
Olivia didn’t hear Rebecca’s quiet reply, but she must have agreed because a moment later Cole scooped her into his arms and carried her down the short hallway that led to the rear of the apartment.
“Might want to make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Grant,” Jonathan said. He waited for Olivia to step inside then closed the door behind her.
Great, Olivia thought, what now? She was in a stranger’s apartment, except it wasn’t a stranger, it was her sister-in-law. That little tidbit probably wouldn’t fully sink in until morning. In the meantime, she decided she might as well do as the man said and make herself comfortable.
Olivia put her hands on her hips and for the first time let herself take a good look at her surroundings. Unlike Cole’s penthouse, Rebecca’s apartment was homey and warm and full of personal touches. An enormous bay window served as the centerpiece of the living room. Dotted with pillows, it looked like an inviting place to read. Judging by the binders scattered across the cushion, Cole’s sister used it for just that. Dark woodwork and an overstuffed sofa gave the room a decidedly cozy feel, but it was the wall of bookshelves that really caught her eye. More specifically, the framed photos adorning the middle shelf.
There were at least a dozen. Some were candid, and some were posed, but they were all of Cole and Rebecca. Laughing, smiling, enjoying life. It was an entirely different Cole than the one Olivia knew, and certainly nothing like the man she’d watched working the room at the gala that night.
On the shelf below there was a small leather album. “Family” was embossed in gold on the spine. Olivia opened it to find more pictures like the ones in the frames. She brought the small album over to the couch where she curled up beneath a soft throw and began to leaf through the pages. The last thought to cross her mind before she drifted off to sleep was that despite all her research, there was still a lot she had to learn about the man who now called her his wife.
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia woke to the sound of a ringing cell phone. Her eyes flew open. Shit. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb Cole’s sister. She rolled off the couch in search of the beaded clutch she’d used the night before, her gown tangling around her legs as she scrambled across the rug. But by the time she finally reached it, the phone had gone silent. She’d no sooner read the words, “Missed call: Mom” when it began to ring in her hand. Back to back calls before seven on a Sunday? A tightness gripped Olivia’s chest. Something must have been horribly wrong.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“You got married?” her mother screeched.
Oh fuck. How did she—
“Married!” her mother repeated without skipping a beat. “And I have to read about it on the internet!” She hadn’t given Olivia time to answer the first question, much less explain. Not that it mattered much, she wasn’t really in a place where she could discuss it.
“Mom, now’s not a really good time.”
“Well, you better make time, Missy.” It was never a good sign when her mother called her “Missy.” No doubt she was pacing laps around the kitchen table with the family dog trying desperately to keep up. “Do you know how long your father has been saving money for his only daughter’s wedding?” She didn’t bother to wait for a reply. “Since the day you were born. He went right over to the Savings & Loan and opened up an account just so he’d be ready when the day came to walk his little girl down the aisle.”
Olivia’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach. “Does he know?”
“Not yet. But I have to tell him, Olivia. You know we don’t keep secrets. Plus, better he hears it from me than some busybody in town. If I saw this, then you just know Alice Jackson did too, and once that dried-up old prune knows, so will Mrs. Taggerty, and then it won’t take two seconds for her to call—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” She dropped her forehead to the floor. “Look, I know you probably have a ton of questions, but I can’t really talk right now. What if I come down for dinner this weekend?”
Her mother let out a heavy sigh. “Better plan on staying the night. This is going to take a lot more than a drive-by.”
“I’ll come down on Friday and stay the weekend.” With her mother temporarily appeased, Olivia hung up the phone and rolled over onto her back. She lay there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the colossal clusterfuck that was her life. But the bright light and a serious need for caffeine were making it hard to think clearly about much of anything.
Olivia pressed her palms to her eyes. She needed normal clothes and a gallon of coffee. A shower wouldn’t be too shabby either. But what she really needed was to go home. Only she couldn’t, because at the moment her home was a ridiculous museum of a penthouse that she shared with a man who not only irritated the fuck out of her but who hadn’t even bothered to give her a key.
With a silent groan, Olivia pushed to her feet. She started down the hallway in search of a bathroom, pausing as she passed Rebecca’s room. The door stood open, and from her vantage point Olivia could see Cole’s sister was sleeping peacefully. She should have kept moving, but the sight of Cole, draped awkwardly across a small upholstered chair, had her lingering at the threshold.
His shirt was wrinkled, and his hair was a disheveled mess, but Olivia didn’t think she’d ever seen him look better. Sound asleep, the deep furrow no longer creased his brows and the muscles in his jaw didn’t tick, but it was the sight of Cole’s outstretched hand protectively placed on top of his younger sister’s that had her seeing him in a different light.
Maybe there was hope for him yet.
She pulled the door closed and set off for the bathroom, but when she returned the door stood open again. Cole was in the kitchen, his back to her as he stared out the small window over the sink.
Olivia quietly cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
Cole turned to face her. His features were drawn, and his gaze was weary. “Morning.” He did his best to muster an apologetic smile. “Sorry to have left you stuck here all night. I should have asked Jonathan to drive you home.”
“How is she?”
He shoved both hands into the pockets of his tuxedo pants and let out a heavy sigh. “It was a rough night, but she’s resting now.”
“Still won’t go to the hospital?”
He shook his head. “But I have a nurse coming in about an hour. She’ll put her on IV fluids.” Cole sat down at the kitchen table. “That poison they put in her veins makes her so sick.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “She doesn’t ask for help and then she gets run down and . . .” He turned his head, staring off in the direction of her room.
Olivia started to reach for him, then pulled back. She wanted to comfort him, to offer words that might ease the tension that racked his large f
rame. But despite being his wife, she was practically a stranger. In the end, she offered all she could. “You’re a good brother,” she said. It wasn’t much, but in her heart, she knew it was true.
Cole stared at her, his expression bleak. He was silent for several beats, and when he finally spoke his voice was thick with emotion. “My father never even met her.”
Olivia couldn’t imagine what would drive a man to reject his own flesh and blood. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, questions she wasn’t quite sure she even had the right to ask. Either way, this wasn’t the time or place.
Cole looked away again, and this time Olivia did reach for him. But when she placed her hand over his, he startled, breaking their brief connection. His gaze fell to her hand and the rock that glimmered on her finger.
“Oh, here, let me give this back to you.” She began to tug at the band, but Cole stopped her.
“Keep it for now,” he said. “Taking it off might raise suspicions.”
While he had a point, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder how she was supposed to go about her day with the Hope diamond blinding her at every turn. And it’s not like it would exactly blend in with her wardrobe. But Cole was in motion before she could object.
He stood and grabbed the tea kettle off the stove. “Who was on the phone?” he asked, changing the subject as he filled the red kettle with water.
“What?”
“I thought I heard a phone ringing. Sort of early for a Sunday morning.”
Olivia blinked the remaining sleep from her eyes. “Umm, yeah, it was my mom. Sorry if it woke you.”
“I was just dozing. Everything okay back home?”
She bit her bottom lip. Her mother’s meltdown was hardly on the same level as what was going on with his sister. Or his grandmother, for that matter.
He fixed her with a hard stare. “You’re biting your lip, Olivia, something I’ve only seen you do when you’re not sure what to say. Just spill it.”
“There are pictures of us on the internet.”
Cole’s gaze remained impassive.
“From last night,” she clarified. “As a couple.”
“Yes.”
“My mom saw them.” She waited for the light bulb to turn on.
“And she didn’t know you’d gotten married?”
There it was.
His eyebrows shot up. “Did you really think that was the sort of news you could keep from her?”
“To be honest I hoped the whole thing would be over before it ever came up.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I see.” The kettle began to whistle, breaking their awkward silence. Cole turned his back to her as he busied himself with the tea bags. “And I suppose she’s disappointed with your decision?”
“She’s upset.” Olivia paused before delving into the deep end. “And she’s worried about how my dad’s gonna take the news.”
“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Olivia. Fathers are notorious for disliking their daughters’ boyfriends.”
“You’re not my boyfriend, Cole. And you’re not some pimple-faced kid who brought me home late from the prom. You’re the man who eloped with their only daughter.” Olivia circled the small table as she spoke. “I mean, they’ve never even heard me mention you, let alone brought you home to meet them, and then my mom sees a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Coleman Grant III at a five thousand dollar a plate dinner and . . .” A thought occurred to her. “And why the hell did the press call me Olivia Grant?”
“Because I told them that was your name.”
“You what?”
“Stick to the issues at hand, Olivia.” He pulled out a chair. “And for God’s sake, sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”
He waited until she was seated then set a mug of tea on the table in front of her. “I take it you didn’t explain the terms of our union.”
Jesus, he made it sound like a corporate merger. Then again, that’s exactly what she was to him, his latest acquisition. The two nights they’d spent together had been nothing more than lust driven be either alcohol or anger. It wasn’t love, and it certainly had nothing to do with being married. Not that there was anything wrong with a purely sexual relationship. She’d had a few of those. But the problem was, with Cole, Olivia didn’t know if she could trust herself to keep it just about the physical. The man had an infuriating way of getting under her skin until she couldn’t even think straight. That lack of clarity had spilled over into every other aspect of her life, making her feel like a hormonal teen, which probably explained why she still hadn’t been able to make up her mind when it came to breaking the news to her parents.
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to share that detail with them or not.” Was it better to tell her parents the truth, that she’d used herself as a bargaining tool for what she believed was a greater good? Or was it better for them to think she’d done something impulsive and romantic that ultimately just didn’t work out? “Either way I didn’t think it was the sort of news I should break over the phone.” She grasped the mug between her hands and lifted it to her lips, pausing to blow on the steaming liquid. “Does your sister know?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes.”
Olivia cringed. “The whole story?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And if you think she was pissed last night you should have heard her then.” Cole chuckled. “Nearly came home wearing my birthday cake.”
Olivia cracked a small grin over the rim of her mug. But the pleasure she derived from the thought of Cole taking a cake to the face was short lived. There was no way around it, her parents were going to be pissed. More than that, they’d be hurt, which in many ways was so much worse. “I told my mom I would come down for a visit this weekend. I’ll explain it to them then.”
“You should go with her, Cole,” Rebecca said from the doorway.
The very thought of Coleman Grant III spending a weekend on her family farm had Olivia choking on her tea. “That won’t be necessary,” she said once she managed to speak. She reached for a napkin and tried to wipe the tea from her chin as discreetly as possible.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Cole asked.
Rebecca shot him a look as she tightened the sash on her terry cloth robe. It was light blue with yellow and white daisies and totally reminded her of something Cassie might wear. “Don’t change the subject. You dragged this poor girl into the lion’s den last night. The least you can do is go with her when she faces the music.”
“Olivia is a big girl, and I’m sure the last thing she wants is to have me tagging along.”
“And last night really wasn’t so bad,” Olivia added. “Blistered feet aside.” Honestly, whoever designed those red-soled shoes must be one hell of a sadist. They were more torture device than footwear.
“Look,” Rebecca said. “From what you’ve told me, the two of you need to sell this. What self-respecting man wouldn’t go home with his new bride to meet the in-laws?”
“She has a point,” Olivia said. As much as she hated to admit it, taking Cole home with her was exactly what she needed to do.
“Hmm.” Cole leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “She has an annoying habit of being right.”
His sister grinned. “Since my brother has zero manners.” She held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last night.”
“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said, shaking her hand. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Tons. But I’m starving.”
Cole pushed to his feet, alarmed. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Rebecca laughed. “I just did.” She pulled out the chair next to Olivia’s and took a seat. “Now, make yourself useful and whip me up some scrambled eggs while I get to know your new wife.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cole’s muscles burned as his feet pounded the treadmill. He’d been at it for nearly forty minutes, and yet he was still
aggravated and tense. And what was worse? He still couldn’t get Olivia out of his mind. Ignoring her wasn’t working. He’d tried that the night of the gala, focusing on his phone or other guests, anything and everything but how fan-fucking-tastic she looked in that dress. But that tactic hadn’t gone so well. In fact, considering he’d ended up propositioning her on the dance floor, some might have called it a complete failure. It had been a week since their “enemies with benefits” conversation had been interrupted, leaving him with a case of blue balls along with a stiff back from a night spent dozing in a chair. After that neither of them had mentioned it again.
It was just as well. Sleeping with Olivia would have been a colossal mistake. Because as history told him, one night would have turned into the next morning, which would have turned into a second night, and so on, and so on, and then before he knew it, he would have been knee deep into some complicated shit. His goal had been clear at the start: a marriage of convenience to satisfy a ridiculous ruling. That’s what he needed to focus on now. He had to play this smart. More brain, less dick.
Sexual frustration aside, the week hadn’t been too bad. In fact, it had gone much better than Cole had expected. For the most part, the two of them had kept to their respective wings of the penthouse. They’d settled into a routine of sorts—him working out in the gym before she was even awake, her eating dinner after he’d retired to his home office for the evening. Between their differing schedules and the sheer size of his home, they’d somehow managed to co-exist. Olivia was nothing more than a roommate who left her dirty dishes on the counter and her shoes strewn across the living room floor. So why the hell did he still feel like a horny teenager jonesing for his first lay? Because she was a roommate with the sexiest ass he’d ever seen and a rack that he knew firsthand looked amazing squeezed around his cock.
Cole groaned. The way he was acting, you’d think he hadn’t had sex in months. In reality, it had only been a little over a week. Nine days and eighteen hours to be exact, but who was counting?
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