He followed Harper up the small pathway, and after she’d unlocked the front door, he put the food just inside, then scooped her up and carried her through.
She gasped, but gave a rueful laugh. “I think you’re only supposed to carry the bride over the threshold of the marital home. We won’t be living here, so there’s no need.”
“I don’t want to tempt fate,” he said, trying not to dwell on how good her weight felt in his arms. “This isn’t a normal marriage—there’s no point pretending otherwise. Yet we both have things riding on it, so I’m planning on doubling up on tradition and doing it at both places.”
Her amusement slowly faded as the pulse at the base of her neck began to flutter, and he gave himself a moment to fully appreciate that he was holding her curves against his chest. He could feel the heat of her skin through her thin blouse, hear her breath catch in her throat.
“Nick...” she said, her voice unsteady. “We need to talk about...this. About...intimacy in our marriage.”
He wanted to lift her a little higher in his arms, bring those pink lips up to meet his, to take his time and kiss her thoroughly, to learn how she liked to be kissed. And he could see from the heat in her eyes that she’d be right on board with that, despite her words. But if they did, they wouldn’t stop. He knew that from experience. From the insistent beat in his blood. And he had a feeling from her tone that she wanted that discussion about intimacy first.
He put the brakes on every instinct he had and lowered her feet to the ground. The slide of her body lit his every nerve ending, and he had to close his eyes and grit his teeth until she stepped away.
When he opened his eyes again, she was adjusting her blouse and shaking her head as she looked down at the floor. “And maybe we should talk about it sooner rather than later.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” he admitted and tried to ignore his body still protesting at the distance between them.
“Just give me a minute to change. These aren’t moving clothes,” she said, waving a hand at the outfit she’d worn for their wedding. “If you want to get a start on lunch, there are plates in the cupboard above the counter.”
He wasn’t fooled as he watched her leave. Sure, she needed to change, but the timing was to give her a moment to compose herself. And, if he were honest, he could use the time, too. So, he imagined himself in a cold shower until he had his body back under his control.
She emerged a few minutes later, having changed into a soft lavender summer dress that set off her tan skin and swirled around her legs, and within moments he was right back needing a cold shower again.
He cleared his throat and held up the plates, cutlery and food. “I had a look around. The deck out back looks like a good spot for lunch.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That sounds lovely.”
Once they were settled at her outdoor table with lunch on their plates, he leaned back in his seat. She didn’t start eating; instead she pushed the food around her plate, clearly uncomfortable. So he gave her a hand and said, “You wanted to talk about where we stand on intimacy.”
“Yes.” She straightened her spine. “You said you were okay with consummating our marriage, but I’m not so sure.”
It was what he’d expected she’d say, but still, he couldn’t see why it would be a problem. “What are you worried will happen?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “We’ve talked about this being a practical arrangement, and that we’ll be able to walk away after five years if we want. So, wouldn’t the best thing be to keep those boundaries clear?”
That sounded sensible on the surface, but he had a feeling there was a deeper reason. “You think we’ll fall in love if we sleep together again.”
“Not necessarily fall in love,” she said, her brows drawn together, “but maybe things would be...messier.”
In general, he agreed—making love was a big step, and once you’d taken it, there was no going back. And yet... “We’ve already crossed that line. Is holding back now really going to help?”
She circled her throat with her delicate hand. “It’s different now.”
“Yeah, I know.” He reached over and unwrapped her hand from her throat, then held it between his. “We’ve done this thing completely backward. Getting pregnant, then getting married, then getting to know each other.”
“And I think adding intimacy in the middle of that is almost like throwing a grenade in. It’s volatile and unpredictable.”
“Point taken.” He wondered if she’d deliberately used military imagery to help him see her meaning. Either way, it had worked. “How about we focus on getting to know each other and then revisit the topic in the future.”
“I’m happy to revisit it, but I can’t see anything that will make me change my mind. If we want that clean break at the end, it might be safer to not cross the line again.”
He wasn’t sure if she was suggesting they both have lovers outside the marriage, or that they both be celibate for the five years—neither of which was a palatable option—but now wasn’t the time to push it. The day they wed and moved in together already had enough intensity for any twenty-four-hour period.
“Noted,” he said. “We’ll revisit once we’re more settled.”
They chatted about simpler subjects as they ate, but there was one topic that was important and couldn’t wait for another day.
He put his plate down and brushed off his hands. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
“I was going in to the office for a few hours.” She picked up a stray chili and popped it in her mouth.
“Tomorrow is Saturday,” he clarified in case she’d lost count of the days amid the wedding preparations. “Do you often go in on the weekends?”
She finished chewing and found another chili while she spoke. “Sometimes. Depends what I have on my plate. But I was planning on heading in tomorrow because I took time off today for the wedding.”
His brows drew together. “Does Malcolm expect you to make that time up?”
“He hasn’t said anything.” She shrugged.
“I’m guessing not, since he was there, too.”
“Ah, but he’s the boss. Things are always different for those in power—they follow a different set of rules entirely. I can’t afford to let things slide just because of a wedding ring.”
“I think you’re forgetting something.” He gave her a cocky grin. “I own half the company, too.”
“You’re pulling the boss card?” she asked, her tone halfway between surprised and amused.
“Sure, why not?”
She shook her head. “That’s not a free pass for me, Nick. If anything, it means I have to be more careful. Once they know, the rest of the staff will be watching, waiting for signs of favoritism. Everything will need to be business as usual at work—I wouldn’t risk my reputation.”
“Tell me this. Do you have time off saved up?”
“Some.”
“Why do I get the feeling it’s more than some?” he asked mildly.
“There’s always more work to be done and never really a good time to take the hours off. Besides, I take pride in my job and like to see that the work gets done. That’s more important than the number of hours in my contract.”
“Is there anything on your desk that can’t wait until Monday?”
She finished the last of her lunch and laid down her cutlery.
“Not technically.”
He had a feeling that the real answer was not at all. That she’d made sure that anything urgent was already taken care of, just in case.
“Then I have an alternative plan.” He paused and smiled. “I have Ellie tomorrow, and I want you to come with us.”
Harper bit down on her bottom lip.
“Are you okay?” he
asked, watching her closely.
“I know that one of the reasons we got married was to present the picture of a stable family unit to the outside world. And the only way to do that is for me to meet Ellie, and to let people—especially your ex-wife—see the family we’re creating. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be this soon. I thought I’d have time to prepare.”
There was tension in her expression that she was trying to cover, so he took her hand again. “You don’t need to prepare. Just be yourself and Ellie will love you.”
Harper thought about it for a moment, then drew in a breath and gave him a tentative smile. “I’d love to spend the day with you and Ellie.”
He nodded, feeling more satisfied that she was going to meet his daughter than he would have expected. And it felt like it was about more than just the plan, the groundwork for his claim to be able to provide a stable family environment for his custody case. A sense of unease began to creep over him, prodding him to consider the level of their entanglement already, but he pushed it away. This was simply his strategy to achieve all their goals. And it was going according to plan. Everything would be fine.
* * *
Harper stepped through the internal door from the staircase that connected the garage beneath Nick’s home to the living room and looked around. He’d been right in his description—it was sleek and modern with lots of white. She’d expected that would mean cold and impersonal, yet the warm caramels and chocolate browns, polished wood floor and highlights in lush greens somehow made it feel more like a crisp, natural setting. And with all the trees visible through the windows, the room blended in with its surroundings. She smiled and a little of the tension left her shoulders. This was a place she could be comfortable.
“A quick tour?” Nick said from beside her. “Or do you need something from your suitcases right away?”
She hadn’t brought much in the suitcases—work clothes, casual clothes, laptop, bathroom items and a few extras. Her place wasn’t that far to go back and grab things as she needed them. And keeping the connection to her house meant she still had a place that was all hers if things went wrong with Nick. She winced, uneasily aware that it could look as though she wasn’t one hundred percent committed to the marriage by leaving herself an escape route, but, as Nick had pointed out, this was a practical arrangement. She was just being practical about the possibility it wouldn’t work.
She draped the clothes she’d brought on hangers over the back of the huge plush sofa and straightened. “I’ll take the tour, thanks.”
“Good choice,” he said. “Then you can start settling in. I’ll bring your bags to your room when we’re done.”
She hitched her handbag a little higher on her shoulder as she followed him through an archway.
“Kitchen,” he said as they moved into a room of gleaming silver appliances and stone counters, then headed into a hallway.
He pointed to a room to her right, said, “Main bathroom,” and kept going. Farther down the hall, he waved his arm from one side to the other. “Two of the guest bedrooms.”
She looked down a staircase beside the one that went to the garage. “Where do those stairs lead?”
“Home gym. You’re welcome to use it anytime. And next to that is my Tate Armor office. Most of the place is on one level except for those rooms and the garage.” He continued on, and she had a glimpse of a darkened room, equipped with lots of technology. “Media room,” he said, but they passed too quickly for her to peek.
They reached the end of the hall, where it branched off to the left and right. “That goes to my rooms,” he said, nodding to the right. “Down here, though,” he said, guiding her along the left hallway, “is the guest wing, which is now yours.”
A few steps down the hall was a large bedroom, decorated in pale green and cream, with a king-size bed taking center stage. Windows filled the wall on two sides, and through another door, she spied an en-suite bath and shower. Nick crossed the room to built-in cupboards that lined one wall and opened one to reveal drawers, shoe racks and space to hang garments. “If there’s anything else you need in here, let me know.”
The room was beautiful, but it didn’t have the feel of her bedroom at her own house, where she’d lovingly chosen every element to create her own sanctuary. Perhaps this would come to feel that way with time...
“I can’t think of anything,” she said. “It all seems lovely. Thank you.”
“There’s another room through here,” he said, striding over to a door on the far wall. “I thought we could use this as the nursery.”
She followed him in and found a room painted in the same pale green and cream color scheme, empty but for two armchairs.
“It was a sitting room for the guest wing,” he said. “I took the rest of the furniture out to make way for nursery furniture.”
At his words, tears pressed at the backs of her eyes, and she laid a hand over her stomach. Her babies would share this room. Sleep here. Smile and laugh here. She’d read them stories in this room. “It’s perfect,” she said.
After a moment of heavy silence, Nick cleared his throat. “We’ll need to go shopping for baby furniture and equipment.”
She dug into her handbag for her cell and brought up a screen before handing it to him. “I made a list.”
He raised an eyebrow as he took the phone. “Already?”
“I like to be prepared.”
As she waited, she watched him scroll through the list. He had no expression while he was reading—he wasn’t giving anything away. She fidgeted with her fingernails. Past boyfriends, and even friends, had chided her for being too obsessive with planning and lists. One had called her regimental. She hadn’t taken it personally—mostly—because being organized had been a huge advantage in her career. But suddenly she was gripped with an unfamiliar bout of nerves. It seemed that it mattered what Nick thought. A lot.
“What do you think?” she asked brightly when she couldn’t wait another second. “You’re the experienced one.”
He looked up with wide eyes and a lopsided grin. “This is amazing. We weren’t this organized for Ellie. We should start getting the stuff on this list soon.”
She let out a long breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He hadn’t been put off by her detailed list. In fact, he seemed to see it as a positive. She smiled. “That would be great.”
He handed the cell back. “Any thoughts about names?”
“I looked at a few websites, but I was overwhelmed.” Most of the time, she was still having trouble imagining herself with two children, let alone what their names would be.
“That’s okay,” he said, digging a hand into his pocket. “There’s plenty of time.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve always liked old-fashioned names—Eloise was my contribution to the name list—but we can decide together when you’ve had a chance to think about it.”
She wandered over to the armchairs and trailed her fingers along the soft fabric.
“What about work?” Nick asked. “Do you see yourself working through the pregnancy?”
She turned back to him and wrapped her hand around the nape of her neck. “Good question. I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it, because my original plan had been leaving Tate Armor and heading home to Connecticut. I thought I’d look for some consulting work there that I could do from home.”
“And now that you’re staying?” he said, leaning back against the wall and digging his hands into his pockets.
“I guess I’d like to keep working while I can. I’m not sure how I’ll feel during the pregnancy, so it’s hard to know.” There were so many unknowns at the moment that could overwhelm her if she let them. She was definitely in favor of not letting them.
“One thing Tate Armor has given me is a very healthy bank balan
ce. So if you decide you want to take a year off, or whatever, we have the financial freedom to do that.”
Without warning, her throat constricted with emotion, and she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t about the money—though that was nice. It was him talking about them as a team. We have the financial freedom. It had been so long since someone other than her mother had said they had her back, or was willing to make contingency plans around her needs. It felt so very nice.
Nick must have noticed her expression change, because he pushed off the wall and crossed to take her hand. “Are you all right?”
“I’m good.” She smiled at him. “I just like the idea of us being a team and facing the world together.”
“I like that, too,” he said and rubbed his thumb against her palm.
She opened her mouth to say more, but hesitated. There was a danger here. They’d made this plan and committed to it, but she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of coming to depend on him. Real partnerships were the ones that were built on a foundation of trust and knowing each other. Those had the potential to stand the test of time. Her relationship with Nick was too new to know anything for sure.
And she couldn’t risk being lulled into a false sense of security.
Five
Nick switched off the engine, and they sat in his ex-wife’s driveway for a moment in silence.
“Do you want me to wait here?” Harper asked.
Given that Melissa always seemed to be on the offensive, having Harper wait in the car would be the path of least resistance. But that wouldn’t achieve the effect he wanted. He needed the appearance of a family unit. It was the first step in his new campaign for shared custody of Ellie.
He reached over and squeezed Harper’s hand. “We’ll start as we mean to go on.”
They walked along the pathway hand in hand, but before he could knock, the door swung open and he was confronted with the woman he’d once thought was the love of his life. And she wasn’t happy.
Tempted by the Wrong Twin Page 5