by Nina Croft
He frowned. “Your Uncle Jamie?”
“James Frobisher. He arranged this thing with you.”
He was staring at her in shock. “Colonel Frobisher is your uncle?”
“Not really. He’s my godfather. And I’m presuming he told you the details of our arrangement.
“I honestly don’t remember.”
“Well, let me remind you. The marriage was to last for five years and five months. That was what you were paid for, whether you remember or not.”
He shrugged. “Hardly a legally binding contract.”
She gritted her teeth. “You agreed.”
“And now I’ve changed my mind. I’m happy to pay you back the money you gave me. With interest.”
So he wasn’t after more money, but that was beside the point. “I cannot get an annulment.” She stood up. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”
“It needs to happen.”
“And I need to stay married.”
“How long?”
“Six months.”
“That’s too long.”
She rested her hands on the table and leaned across. “It’s what you signed up for.” She had a splitting headache, too much going on, and still dinner with her grandmother to get through. “Look, I have a meeting. I have to get back to the office. But we’ll talk tonight. After we’ve had dinner with my family.”
“You really want me to come?”
“No, Mr. Slater. I don’t really want you to come. I would much rather you’d stayed away altogether. But you didn’t. So now I have to deal with the fallout from that.”
He was still relaxed back in his seat, a bland expression on his handsome face. “And afterward you’ll talk about this in a rational manner?”
She gritted her teeth some more. “I am always rational.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
Oh yes, because he knew her so well after spending a whole ten minutes in her company. Plus the wedding, of course, where, if she remembered rightly, apart from her vows she had said a total of two tongue-tied words to him the whole time: hello and good-bye. But he had been a little outside her comfort zone.
Be honest, Lexi. He still is.
Though she’d work hard to keep that fact from him. He was just so big and stern and…he wanted an annulment. Well, somehow she had to persuade him out of that idea.
He gave a quick nod. “I’ll pick you up.”
“You’ll need my address,” she said.
“I have your address.”
He did? Where from? Though for that matter he’d obviously gotten her office address from somewhere. Had he had her investigated? “Well, be there at seven-thirty. And do not be late. My grandmother dislikes unpunctuality.”
He cocked his head. “Are you scared of her?”
Stupid question. “Of course I’m scared of her. She’s terrifying.”
“Okay, and afterward we’ll discuss the annulment.”
“Yes.” Ha, no way.
A deal was a deal, and he was going to stick by it or…actually, she wasn’t sure what. But an annulment? No way. She could imagine her family getting hold of that information. Would it negate the release of the trust? She didn’t know, and perhaps she needed to find out. She made a mental note to talk to her lawyer; she’d get Sadie to set up a call after her meeting.
The day had started out so well, and now she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. But no way was she going to allow this guy to push her over. She glared at him, and his lips twitched.
“Seven-thirty sharp. And wear a suit.” Her brows drew together. “Do you have a suit?”
“I’ll find something.”
“Good.”
And then she was out of there.
…
She was cute when she was angry. Hell, she was cute period. But cute had never been his thing. And what was with the four-inch heels? They seemed totally out of character and had the effect of making her ass sway as she strutted away.
She had a great ass—curvy, shown off perfectly by the faded jeans—and a narrow waist. Her curls hung in a wild tangle to half-way down her back—had she even brushed her hair today? He shook his head. That had nothing to do with him. He was here to get away from her, not get turned on every time she got near him.
The door swung shut behind her, and he sat back in his seat and picked up his scotch. He never drank in the middle of the day. Didn’t drink much at all, actually—his mother had been too bad an example for him to want to go down that route. But now, as he brought the glass to his lips, he breathed in the warm smell and took a sip. The taste reminded him of that night on the lifeboat after the cruise ship had sunk, when he’d drunk scotch with Logan and Vito—the two guys who had very likely saved his life—and they had all made a vow. They would go back and change one thing about their lives. “Things to do before you die,” they’d called it. And Josh had known straight away what he was going to do.
He was going to get laid.
Nice, simple, no strings sex. Because he hadn’t had sex in…way too long.
Partly because for the last five years he’d poured all his energy into getting his business set up, to the exclusion of all else. Slater Security was a bigger success than he could have ever imagined, but recently he’d found no pleasure in his work.
Which was why, when his company won the contract to provide security for a cruise line, and there had been a last minute opening for chief security officer on the ship, he’d jumped at the job. A nice, relaxing cruise to set his mind straight.
Ha.
But it had given him the time and space to realize that he’d put his life on hold when he’d said “I do.”
The marriage had been a business arrangement. He’d always known he’d never marry for real, so it hadn’t seemed like such a big deal at the time. Except for some reason, in the back of his mind, he’d never been able to shake the thought that he was married. That going with another woman was somehow cheating. Which was crazy.
But, crazy or not, he was going to have to cut ties to his fake wife before he could move on and have that no-strings sex he needed.
He’d thought it would be easy, hadn’t expected to meet any opposition, which had obviously been short-sighted of him.
For the first time he considered things from his wife’s point of view. Why had she entered into this marriage? He’d thought her some little rich bitch who wanted access to her money so she could party harder. Now he was revising that opinion. Her clothes had been old and basic—apart from the killer heels—and she wore no jewelry. Her fingernails were short and unpainted. If she was spending money, it wasn’t on her appearance.
Maybe something to do with her family? They obviously believed the marriage to be real. And she was determined to keep it that way.
And that was nothing to do with him, either. He wanted his annulment, though he was quite prepared to do it quietly if she wanted to go on pretending they were married. Or she could tell everyone they’d divorced. That part was up to her.
But the annulment itself? Somehow he needed to persuade her it was in both their best interests. He took another sip of scotch and remembered the taste of her on his tongue. His dick twitched in his pants. She wasn’t his type, but she’d felt good in his arms, soft and curvy and…
He groaned. He needed to get laid, and that was all. He needed to get out of this sham of a marriage, find himself a woman, and maybe then he could stop thinking about sex.
Because thinking about sex with his wife was not an option.
And it never would be, so his dick was just going to have to get over it and move on like the rest of him.
Chapter Three
Lexi loitered outside the gate and peered down the road every thirty seconds. She’d decided it was probably better if Josh didn’t come into the house; the setup could be a little overwhelming at first. And he needed his wits about him tonight. She glanced down at herself and gave a rueful shrug. Her black dress was covered in paw prints.
&
nbsp; She’d stayed tidy for five minutes. That was probably a record for her. And it was nearly seven-thirty—her grandmother would be waiting. No time to change now.
Besides, if she went in, she might not come out again. She was feeling a little shy every time she remembered that she had kissed him. Correction: first she’d jumped him, then she’d kissed him.
And now he wanted an annulment. She’d talked to her lawyer that afternoon, and this had the potential to become a huge mess.
In some ways, her father had been a very modern man, in others he’d bordered on antiquated. He’d left most of his money to Lexi—in trust until she was twenty-four, or when she married. As though having a husband would miraculously make her capable of handling a fortune worth millions.
Now, if the marriage was annulled and her family wanted to be difficult—and hell, when hadn’t her grandmother wanted to be difficult—they could claim she’d had access to the money fraudulently. They could tie her up in legal knots so she wouldn’t even get access when she turned twenty-four. It was a nightmare.
A nightmare Joshua Slater was responsible for. And could prevent.
A big, black car drew up right on the dot of seven-thirty. A sensible car. Spotlessly clean. And expensive.
She drooped a little at that. She’d held out hope that he was just as money hungry as her family, but he was obviously not in need of cash. Which was bad news, because that would have been an easy solution. It would have depressed her a little, and she realized she wanted Josh to be…nice. Okay, nice might be pushing it, but the honorable man of her dreams, at least. But she’d decided, after the conversation with her lawyer, that she would offer him more money if that was what it took—money to do nothing for the next six months, and then a quiet divorce when it would no longer matter.
A divorce would be fine. An annulment would be a disaster.
Pity they hadn’t consummated the marriage—at least not in real life—then an annulment wouldn’t be a possibility.
Not an option, Lexi.
And now it seemed unlikely offering him money would be an option either.
He leaned over and opened the car door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat, casting him what she hoped was a casual peek. Then turned back to stare. He was stunning, gorgeous in a dark gray suit and a white shirt, open at the collar showing the tanned column of his throat.
“Hi,” she mumbled, brushing at the paw prints down her front. “Thanks for coming.” She hadn’t been entirely sure he would.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“The Ritz.”
“Of course we are.”
He was silent for a minute as they headed into the traffic. She glanced down at her hands in her lap and noticed a run in her stockings. She tugged the hem of her dress down to cover it and sighed. They needed to talk and didn’t have long. She’d made a mental list of topics to cover. Time to get started.
She cleared her throat. “So we need to get our stories straight. Grandmamma will be asking you questions.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been trained to withstand torture.”
“Ha. You think this is funny. Just wait.”
“So the story… What do they know?”
“As little as I could get away with.” She thought for a moment. “They know you were in the army. And they know I met you through Uncle Jamie.”
“And we fell in love. How sweet.”
“Actually, no. I told them we had to get married. I was pregnant.”
His gaze shot from the road to her face, then down to her stomach, and then thankfully back to the road. “You were?”
“Of course I wasn’t. They think I lost the baby at three months, but that seemed more believable than the whole love thing.”
“You don’t believe in love?” He sounded vaguely amused.
It felt weird talking about love with this man. Not even in her fantasies had he ever told her he loved her. She didn’t have that good of an imagination. But best not think about fantasies with his big body so close to her in the confines of the car. It was having a weird effect on her concentration.
She gave a little shrug. “Maybe, but it didn’t seem likely that anyone would believe you’d fallen in love with me.”
He frowned. “Why not? Don’t you think you’re loveable?”
The question sort of stopped her. The truth was, while she was sure her parents had loved her, she could hardly remember them. Her Uncle Jamie was fond of her but she wouldn’t call it love. Her grandmother…sometimes she thought her grandmother hated her.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But anyway, at the time it seemed more believable.” And it had really pissed them off—that had been an added bonus. Her grandmother hadn’t spoken to her for a year afterward. Not even after she’d written and told them about the miscarriage. A whole lovely year.
“So I take it your family wasn’t happy.”
“They might have forgiven me if you were an officer.”
“And a gentleman.”
“Yes.” She frowned, then added quickly, “Not that I don’t think you’re a gentleman or anything.”
“Honey, I’m about as far from a gentleman as you can get. And don’t worry about offending me—you won’t.”
When he called her honey, little flutters started up in her belly. She tried to ignore them. “Anyway, I told them you were a soldier and…” She chewed on her lip. He’d said she couldn’t offend him. She wasn’t sure that was true, and she would no doubt soon find out. “I said you weren’t very bright.”
“What?”
Yup—he definitely sounded disgruntled. “I said you were gorgeous and sweet but a little slow.”
“Sweet?” He sounded almost outraged.
What was wrong with sweet? “And gorgeous,” she repeated to make up for the slow bit.
They’d stopped at a set of traffic lights and he turned to face her. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
Why was he asking her that? He must know he was. She was betting he had women chasing after him all the time. She studied his face—the intense blue eyes, the high cheekbones, the long line of his jaw, the narrow nose. He was stunning. She sniffed. “You’re okay.”
He chuckled, and she liked the sound. It did all sorts of strange things to her insides.
“So I’m thick?”
“Yes. If grandmother asks anything you don’t know the answer to, just act…”
“Stupid.”
She relaxed a little; he seemed to have taken that well. “You stayed in the army after we were married. I thought that best in case of any surprise inspections. If anyone turned up on my doorstep unannounced, I could always say you were out of the country.”
“Makes sense.”
“You could probably say you left recently though—just be a little vague. Then we need to decide what you’re doing next.” She cast him a quick look. He was concentrating on the road; they were coming up to the Ritz and running out of time. “What do you actually do?”
“I run a security firm. Started it up straight after we married.”
“Is that what you needed the money for?”
“No. I needed it for something else, but that didn’t work out. So I started the company. And it’s done well. So I can afford to pay you back. With interest.”
“I don’t want paying back.” She really didn’t want to get into that discussion now. She was already wound up enough. “We’ll say you work in security. What else? I sometimes came out to visit you, and we took at least one vacation a year together. But we haven’t spent that much time with each other, so it’s understandable if there are things we don’t know. But maybe we should cover a few of the basics. What’s your favorite color? Mine’s orange.”
“Black.”
“Food?”
“Steak.”
“Oh. I’m a vegetarian. TV or reading?”
“Reading.” He glanced over with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps I should stick to comic books to fit in with my im
age.”
She bit back her own smile—he needed to take this seriously. “Perhaps.”
“So ours is more of a physical than a cerebral relationship?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the Ritz.
“I suppose.”
He looked at her, his gaze dropping to her cleavage, and her nipples tightened in a totally over-the-top response.
“We just meet up”—he raised his eyes to her face, held her gaze—“screw each other’s brains out, and don’t bother with much conversation.”
She cleared her throat; something seemed to be lodged halfway down. “I guess.”
“We know all about each other sexually, but not a lot else? Hmm…so what’s your favorite position? Just in case your grandmother asks.”
She stared at him for a moment, heat washing through her, then a little giggle escaped her as she imagined the scene. He was teasing her, and she supposed she was awfully easy to tease. She licked her lip, stared into his blue eyes. She didn’t want him to think she was a total pushover. “I like it from behind.”
…
Crap.
His head filled with an image of her on all fours in front of him, and his dick jerked to instant life in his pants.
She giggled again, and he shot her a dark look.
“What?” he said.
“The expression on your face.”
He shrugged. “I guess you surprised me.”
“I did?” She looked a little too pleased with herself.
“Yeah. I was expecting you to say the missionary.” That would work for him as well; her lush little body sprawled out beneath him, her breasts pushing upward. She’d have pink nipples to go with that creamy skin, and maybe freckles across her breasts.
Stop thinking about sex.
Especially sex with Lexi.
He’d gone into the office that afternoon to catch up on some paperwork, but he’d found himself going over ways to convince Lexi to go along with his annulment. And what to do if he failed.
It wasn’t a real marriage. Maybe he could pretend it didn’t exist. But that wasn’t really an option. Promiscuity was something else his mother had cured him of; she’d never been faithful to one man for any length of time. Though she’d once told him that his father had been the love of her life. He’d walked out on her when she’d told him she was pregnant. His mother didn’t even know who his sister Evie’s father was. There were two or three contenders, but no one had ever stepped forward.