Loving the Bastard

by Marteeka Karland

  “You call that a marriage?”

  He shrugged. “It worked for my parents.”

  “Clearly not very well if your father has pushed you to this.”

  How could he argue with that? Though he wanted to keep her riled. All too soon they arrived at her apartment.

  “I won’t be but a minute,” she said, opening the door, obviously intending that he remain in the fucking parking lot.

  “I don’t think so. I’ll be going with you.”

  “Fine.” Zeta rolled her eyes at him, which really should have irritated Maximilian. Not turned him on even more. Woman—and men—generally fawned all over him. He found this insolence in her oddly stimulating. Like foreplay.

  She led him to her apartment on the fifth floor. Though her father had money enough to put her in a house of her own—even in the city—her home was a modest one-bedroom. In other words, positively tiny. Still it was neat, with only her desk a mess of papers.

  “So, what kind of work do you do?” he found himself asking, though he’d never asked it of another woman. It was understood any woman he dated was either wealthy in her own right—or her parents’—or was hoping to score his wealth.

  “I help my father with accounting,” she answered as she hastily gathered a few things. “And I tutor math at the Y on Wednesdays and Saturdays.”

  “Tutor math? College students?”

  “No. Junior high and high school students. Most of them are from the inner city and would have no other way of getting help.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were her duty to continue. That thought was the first thing to put a damper on Max’s good humor. “You do mean the Y in this part of town. Right? I mean, your students are bussed in or are brought here some way.”

  “No, Max,” she said, stopping her hasty packing to look at him. “I go to the Y downtown. Every Wednesday and Saturday. Surprisingly, I’ve managed to help several young people get through high school math as well as some lower level college courses, though those are few and far between. Most of them are lucky to get a high school education.”

  “And your father lets you do this?” He tried to keep the censure out of his voice, but wasn’t quite sure he managed it.

  “No, my father doesn’t let me do it. I do whatever the hell I want.”

  “Not anymore,” he muttered.

  “Oh, no, Mr. We’ll-Lead-Separate-Lives. You can’t have it both ways.”

  “On this I will, but we’ll get to that later.” The very thought of her putting herself in danger like that made anger surge through him nearly as intensely as lust had before. The why of it wasn’t something he wanted to think about just yet.

  Maximilian expected Zeta to lay into him again. Instead, she merely shrugged. “Think that all you want. But I’ll still be going to the Y on Wednesdays and Saturdays. If you want to come with me, suit yourself.”

  “I might just do that,” he said. “Someone has to make sure you get home in one piece.”

  “I’ve managed quite well for a very long time, thank you,” was her cool reply before she went back to packing. “It’s not like you’d actually be of any help. You wouldn’t last five minutes with that bunch. They’d eat you alive.”

  Max stilled, sensing a trap, but getting distracted when Zeta bent at the waist to pick up her computer bag. “Just what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, not really following the thread of the conversation anymore.

  “It means they’d likely peg you for a spoiled rich guy with more money than common sense. They’d have you throwing dice or some other nonsense so they could rip you off. It’s not like you’d be of use anyway. Unless you’re good at teaching math to kids.”

  “High school students are hardly kids.”

  She turned to face him then, a calculating look on her face. Then she snorted and shook her head, turning back to her packing. “No. You don’t have the patience for it. If you think I need a guard, I suggest you find one of those big guys with lots of muscles people like you always hire to protect them and send him with me. He’d be of more use.”

  “Like hell,” he growled, his eyes still glued to her backside.

  Zeta wore a black, straight skirt that came to her knees, but the material hugged her ass like a lover. The conservative white blouse was tucked into the waist, giving him an unimpeded view every time she bent over. Maximilian found himself wondering what kind of underwear she wore beneath it all. Would she be covered in lace or silk?

  “Well, then, I guess you’ll have to brush up on your remedial math skills. Because I don’t miss those classes for anything.”

  “Just get your things,” he groused, his mood suddenly not as good as it had been. Besides, he absolutely had to find out what kind of underwear she was wearing. If she was wearing lace, he’d buy her silk just so he could compare the two.

  It was only then he realized he’d just agreed to go with her to something he not only couldn’t give two shits about, but absolutely didn’t want to do, thinking it a waste of his time. Not only that, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt he’d go.

  Chapter Five

  Not long after her brief stop by her apartment, Maximilian drove Zeta down the long winding driveway that lead to a monstrous estate. It was all Zeta could do to keep her jaw from dropping at the sight of it.

  The thing stood three stories with balconies on each window overlooking the grounds. Doric columns ran the length of the front of the house, top to bottom, giving it a stately air. To Zeta, it looked more like a resort than someone’s home. Could it be any more ostentatious? The house definitely fit the owner.

  “You actually live here?”

  “For eleven years,” he said proudly, as if she should be impressed.

  “We could live here together for years, never leave the house, and never see each other!”

  “That’s the point I’ve been trying to make, sweetheart. We can live together without actually getting in each other’s way.”

  “Okay, first off, I’m not your sweetheart,” she said, needing to get that out of the way. Endearments would only lead to a false sense of security should he insist they have a more intimate relationship. Given the kiss they’d shared in his office, that was most definitely on his agenda. “Second, how can you possibly hope to have a successful marriage by never seeing each other in private?”

  “Successful in my book equals no divorce. Since it’s in the prenup…success.”

  As he pulled into the garage, Zeta decided two things. Maximilian had a very fucked-up idea of what marriage was and how a husband and wife should treat each other. Next, it might be foolhardy on her part, but she was going to show him.

  “I tell you what,” she said. “We have six months before I give my final word. I get that you expect us to basically have nothing to do with each other after you get your heir, but I want you to see things my way. Just for this six months. If I’m going to go out of my comfort zone, then I expect you to do the same.”

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re an exasperating female?” Maximilian didn’t look irritated or angry—he looked amused. As if this were all a grand experiment, a game they were playing.

  She pretended to think about the question before answering, “No. Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one.”

  “Fine. What do you propose?”

  “Outside of your work, we do things as a couple. We have meals together. We watch TV together in the evenings or whatever. We pretend we actually matter to each other and see what happens.”

  “Like me going with you to the YMCA to help you with your math tutoring?”

  “No. You’ll do that because it will make a difference in the life of a young man or woman.” When he rolled his eyes, she amended, “And because you said you thought it was too dangerous for me to go alone. If you don’t want to help”—she shrugged—“fine. But these youngsters could certainly benefit from your vast knowledge and experience in the corporate world.”

  “I’m still not
sure how you managed to talk me into that one.”

  Maximilian escorted her into his home with obvious pride as they spoke. Admittedly, he had much to be prideful of. The place was gorgeous. Spacious living areas, a kitchen that was to die for, and the promise that there were three more in different wings of the house if one didn’t meet her needs.

  At length, he took her to a suite of rooms on the seconed floor. The balcony in back overlooked the pool in the center of an expansive courtyard. There was a sitting room, bedroom, spacious bathroom, and a full kitchen. The sitting room was bigger than her entire apartment with an entertainment area with the biggest TV she’d ever seen. A leather sectional formed a U for comfortable viewing. In the corner—almost as an afterthought, as if it had been put there because the designer thought it might be a requirement—was a white baby grand piano. A plush area rug as big as a room lay underneath the instrument but looked as if it had never been walked on. Zeta’s fingers itched to try out the piano. She bet it sounded so much better than her old upright. While still pleasing, the sound was likely nothing like what she could produce with this piano.

  “Consider this yours while you’re here,” he said, startling her away from her musical envy. Which only brought her focus back to Maximilian. Every time she looked at him she felt like the place was closing in around her. He was that magnetic to her. Powerfully built, handsome, with more sex appeal than was legal, he was so far out of her league, Zeta had to wonder how in the world she was going to survive this. Yes, she now had a plan, but it was all so exhausting. Just being next to him, playing his little mind games, was akin to running a marathon. Living with him might prove to be too much for her.

  Unfortunately, like her kids at the Y, Maximilian needed her. While she was still certain he was close to the devil incarnate, he was still a human being sorely in need of affection. True affection. Not the fake bullshit he got from everyone around him. Maximilian needed someone to genuinely care about him, to care what happened to him and try to make him happy. He also needed to know what it was like to care about someone else more than he cared about himself. Why in the world she felt the need to take him on, Zeta had no clue. But there it was. In that moment, she vowed to herself she’d figure out a way to make him see what true love really was.

  After giving her a quick tour, he smiled at her. “I’d insist we sleep together tonight, but I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. Unless, of course, you’re feeling adventurous.”

  “You know, it’s really not nice to mock people.”

  “No one ever said I was a nice guy, Zeta.”

  “No shit,” she muttered.

  “Oh, almost forgot.” He pulled a black card from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “You need clothes. An evening gown, cocktail dresses, business casual wear. That will get you anything you need. Don’t buy jewelry unless it’s the real thing, especially to go with your evening gown. If you’re in doubt, wait for me.”

  “This is a black Centurion American Express,” she breathed. “With my name on it?”

  “No limits,” he said, grinning. “Use it as you wish. You can purchase anything you like in addition to the items you need.”

  “Wow,” she managed. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Showing you what life with me will be like. Anything your heart desires.” He flashed her a heart-stopping smile before adding. “See? I’m not so bad.”

  Chapter Six

  The whole day had been exhausting for Zeta. God! Could the man be any more intimidating? It seemed like she’d used all her energy just keeping her head above water, and she was still overwhelmed. Fortunately, it had been worth it. She’d managed to push his own comfort zone, giving her the satisfaction of knowing the king in his castle was nearly as uncomfortable as she was.

  She insisted she make dinner for him, and demanded he actually help her in the kitchen. What followed started out innocently enough, with him being his normal arrogant self, leaning against the island while she prepared a quick meal. By the time she set the meal on the table, he was jumping to do her bidding, looking as shell-shocked as she had after her father had told her about this stupid agreement. Probably because she’d learned how to be in command of the kitchen from her mother. While Max might be king of the castle, Zeta was most definitely queen of the kitchen. Something Max hadn’t had the chance to get used to yet.

  “Well,” he said, wiping his mouth after their meal. “I never would have thought something put together on the spur of the moment would be so delicious. My compliments.” Instead of a regular dinner, she’d made a breakfast of bacon, biscuits, eggs, and gravy, mostly because she figured the uptight Maximilian would turn his nose up at such a meal. Surprisingly, he’d torn into it with gusto.

  “There’s Southern cooking and country cooking. I never was much on fancy things, so country cooking is what I do. Basically, you make due with what you have and fry everything.”

  He’d barked a laugh. “I have no doubt you’d do well in some backwoods town.”

  “I do well in the city, but I remember where I came from. Were you born here?” She’d slipped the question in easily while his guard was down, trying desperately to connect with him on some level.

  “No. I was raised in New York City, then moved to Los Angeles. I could have stayed in L.A. when my father moved us to Louisville, but with him opening up another branch of our bank, I wanted to be where the action was.”

  “Does it always come back to the bank, then?”

  He’d held her gaze for a moment. “Always.”

  “Up until my father made it big in the real estate business, we lived modestly. Comfortably, but there were times we had to watch the finances. Before my mom died, she taught me how to use what I had to make a tasty, filling meal.”

  “You know you don’t have to do that now.” He hesitated before adding, “Though, I’m willing to admit I enjoyed this one very much.”

  He had, in fact, devoured his meal, going for seconds before he’d realized it. When he did, he’d stopped, going completely still, looking at his plate then back up at Zeta. She hadn’t been able to suppress her smug grin.

  “Well, get used to it. This is one of those things I want you to do if I’m going through with this ridiculous plan.”

  “What? Eat grease and flour every night?” He tried a snort, but Zeta caught him glancing at the gravy bowl next to the bacon.

  “No, eating dinner together.”

  “Easy enough. We can go out.” That irritating arrogance was firmly back in place.

  “Maybe on the weekends, but through the week, we eat here. I’ll cook. You’ll help. We’ll talk. You know, pretend to be all domestic and shit. Like a real family.”

  “My parents never did any of that.”

  “If they had, maybe they’d still be together and your view of life wouldn’t be so warped.” She’d raised an eyebrow, daring him to refute her observation.

  “Perhaps. But I doubt I’ll be doing this much.”

  “Yes, you will,” she’d fired back without hesitation. “If for no other reason than to see what I’ll come up with next.”

  After that, she got him to sit on the couch with her. He didn’t opened up much, but Maximilian obviously had no idea how he’d gotten there or why he stayed. Zeta talked about her kids at the Y, anticipating the next day. Telling him what to expect. He had tried to scoff, but she saw him swallow nervously. He tried several times to steer the conversation away from the subject of her going to the Y the next day, but she was persistent. Apparently, Maximilian was a bit wary of teenagers. Good. Another shove outside his comfort zone.

  That night, her dreams had been filled of images of the sexy, exasperating Maximilian. Zeta still wasn’t sure there was anything redeemable about him but she was resolved to try. There was pain inside him. Pain buried so deep, she wasn’t even certain he realized it. He covered it with the whole facade of the merciless bastard, but the
more she was around him, the more little pieces of himself he let escape, the less she was convinced he really felt the way he said he did. About women. About marriage. About love. Did she want to be the focus of his attention if he ever let down his guard long enough to try getting to know a woman? No. He might be attractive and devastatingly sexy, but he had no place in her life.

  Now, she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. Teenagers on little to no sleep? Yeah, not the best of ideas. But, like she’d told Maximilian the day before, she never missed a session at the Y, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  Hastily, she showered and dressed, still feeling strung out. A quick breakfast of a scrambled egg sandwich and a glass of orange juice helped. A cup of coffee was even better.

  There was a knock at the door before it opened. Maximilian stepped in wearing his usual tailored suit. Zeta suppressed a smile, ducking her head to take another sip of coffee. The little bastards were going to eat him alive.

  He looked her up and down, no doubt taking note of her faded jeans and cable-knit sweater. “Seems you’re a bit underdressed.”

  “Naturally,” she said, leaning a hip against the island counter, “since you obviously know exactly what we’re doing and where we’re going. Of course I’m the one dressed inappropriately.” Did his face flush slightly?

  “If I’m to teach these hoodlums how to function in the corporate world, perhaps they should learn how to dress.”

  “Kids need to learn multiplication and division first, Mr. GQ,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t take anything valuable with you. I guarantee you you’d lose it before the day’s out.”

  “Look, if these kids are only there to pick my pockets then there’s no reason for anyone to be there. They need to learn self-control,” he said sternly.