by Jean Oram
A married man, one who was the founder and owner of an ethical, green company, did not take the governor’s daughter to a ball, as he had a few weeks ago.
It didn’t matter that it had been a business move—he’d been seeking corporate tax breaks and Governor Martinez had suggested they talk at the event. Burke had agreed. Then there had been the issue of a ticket. But it turned out his daughter, who was in need of a date, had an extra.
The press had acted like there was something between the two of them, despite Burke telling Autumn he wasn’t interested in a relationship. But the media attention had made her eyes dance. He hadn’t been able to shake her ever since.
Reporters would go nuts if they found out that he, a man who never committed, had been married the whole time. Especially to a woman whose curves could rival that of a racetrack. Dangerous. He didn’t recall her being so curvy the last time he’d seen her, and his eyes kept being drawn to the dip in her waist before the flare of her hips. Her shapely legs.
“There is a slight hitch,” Jill said, drawing his attention back to their conversation.
Burke froze, then wiped a hand across his mouth, but the feeling that he’d lost control of something very important didn’t go away.
“What do you mean?” he croaked.
“As you know, I’m looking to expand my business.” Jill was avoiding his gaze and his right leg began jiggling with pent-up energy.
“So am I.” He’d put nearly every asset the company owned—as well as his own—behind their latest push for growth.
“I applied for a loan.”
He nodded. So had he. And yesterday it had been denied—a move that puzzled the company’s accountant. The team at Sustain This, Honey, had taken a calculated risk by financially extending themselves, knowing that with the right moves they’d make that money back in a conservative six months, if not sooner.
They counted on him to personally create a financial bridge that he’d unexpectedly been unable to raise. That meant he needed to go into his next meeting fresh, calm and on top of his game, so the potential investor felt confident in stepping up. And Jill and her marriage problem wasn’t helping him stay calm and collected.
She studiously kept her eyes trained on the edge of Burke’s desk, then the wall to his right, which was coated with whiteboard paint where he’d written out their growth plan’s timeline.
Jill spoke, her tone even. “They approved the loan based on my husband’s credit rating.”
Burke’s mind stopped working as he processed the statement.
Husband’s credit rating.
Husband.
That was him.
His credit.
His recently denied loan application was because of her?
No. That—this—had to be a nightmare.
“Burke?” Jill asked gently. Her tentative, but curious tone brought him back to the conference hotel bar where they’d spent hours chatting. He’d been sitting alone in the boisterous pub, thinking over the day, and had turned to see who was speaking to him. The lights had been behind her, giving her dark hair depth. Someone had popped a confetti bomb to celebrate the partying bride and groom, and Jill had jumped forward, landing in the V between his legs, her palms, hot and sure, pressing against his thighs as she’d steadied herself. She’d laughed it off, embarrassed by her overreaction to the loud crack, but the contact had sent a shiver down his spine. A shiver of longing.
As she repeated his name now, in his office, that same anticipatory shiver ran through him again like a conditioned response.
Longing. Longing for his wife.
Married.
No, not him. No way.
Not trapped.
Not again.
A funnel of rage whipped through him.
“Get out.” He came around his desk. He didn’t want to even think about the level of deceit she’d gone to in order to get that loan. “And pay back the loan immediately.”
He reached for the door, stopping when she stuttered, “I—I can’t.”
“You took it, you pay it. You did not have my authority, and I will sue you into the ground for this, you hear me?”
He was losing control.
Of his emotions, of his company.
If she defaulted, everything would be lost. People depended upon him. He had a staff of twenty-five just outside that office door, people who trusted him not to mess up, not to let his grip slip. And somehow he had. The personal loan he’d counted on to help the company was now out of reach.
Tears streaked down Jill’s cheeks as she snatched the document from his desk.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I paid for this copy. It’s mine.” She swiped at her wet cheeks, her spine straight. Her chin was jutting out and she looked fierce even with the tears.
But the tears. He didn’t expect someone like her to be reduced by his sharp tone.
She’d used him, hadn’t she? Used him to get the loan, so she could expand when he hadn’t allowed her to partner with Sustain This, Honey. And now she was using tears to try and soften him.
Jill was babbling at high speed. “I swear I didn’t know, Burke. I wouldn’t have transferred it to my vendors. It wasn’t until Wini—the loan manager—was teasing me weeks later about keeping a secret husband that…” She paused to gulp, steadying herself. “I’m so sorry, Burke. I really am. It was so embarrassing and confusing. I’ll fix this. I promise.”
He studied her, feeling uncertain by the depth of her emotion. But he couldn’t trust her, could he? The tears could be fake. This could have all been orchestrated.
“Just tell me where to show up for this annulment.”
2
Jill let herself into the judge’s chambers. One annulment coming up. One loan to be paid back as outlined in the plan she’d emailed Burke a few days ago.
Plan set. Life soon to be back on track.
Burke was already sitting across from the judge’s desk, his jaw hard, muscles twitching with pent-up emotion. He was handsome. And very, very angry.
Angry enough to actually sue her? He wouldn’t sue his accidental wife, would he?
Jill pulled the second visitor’s chair a few feet beyond his reach and sat down.
He was intimidating in his dark power suit, and she was glad she’d taken the time to put on a wool skirt and silk blouse, even if they were a tad too tight.
“Jill Armstrong?” the judge asked as she entered the room, her robe flowing behind her. She was tall, her expression severe. She exuded a no-nonsense attitude. In other words, she was perfect.
Jill stood. “Present.”
The judge’s mouth twitched in amusement. “And you are Burke Carver, correct?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he replied.
“We’re here to annul your marriage?”
Burke spoke for them. “I don’t recall marrying Jill. She drugged me. The marriage and all goings-on, as well as marital entitlements, are therefore null.”
The judge raised her eyebrows as she seated herself.
“I did not drug you!” Jill said with a gasp. And they’d already settled things in regards to neither of them requesting any ‘marital entitlements’ from the union.
“You may be seated,” the judge told Jill. “Burke, you were under the influence when you took your vows?”
“Yes. My consent should be considered—”
“Jill? Were you under the influence?”
She nodded. “I assume so. I don’t recall the ceremony.”
“That makes things easy,” the judge said, closing the file folder that had been open on her desk.
“She’s meddling with my business,” Burke said, “and I would like to reserve the right to sue her.”
Jill gasped again, and added hotly, “I am not meddling and there is no reason to sue me.”
Without facing her, he said, “Explain the loan you haven’t paid back. The one you obtained through deception. The one where you borrowed against my cr
edit, and without my signature.”
Jill shrank in her chair. “That was a mistake, and I emailed you a schedule for paying it back.”
“How did she borrow money without your knowledge?” the judge asked, leaning forward, pen poised.
Burke fumed. “I don’t know.”
“Did you forge his signature, Jill?” the judge prompted. “Was he a cosigner?”
“No. It was an honest mistake made by my bank when they checked my credit rating and found I was married,” Jill squeaked. “Please, can we just annul our marriage?”
“Now that you have my money, sure, why not?” Burke grumbled, arms stiffly crossed.
“It’s not like that,” Jill said tightly. “And it’s not like one little loan against your credit rating is going to break you until I get it paid off.”
“I have mouths to feed.”
“You have children?” she asked, sitting back in surprise.
“You withheld this knowledge from Ms. Armstrong?”
“Employees,” Burke said sharply. “They have children. Families. Medical needs. Mortgages. Tuition payments.”
“Are you cohabiting?” the judge asked.
“No. Never,” Jill said, fingers interlaced in her lap.
“Did you consummate your marriage?” the judge asked.
“I don’t know,” Jill said, feeling flustered by the personal question and Burke’s attitude. Was he really thinking of suing her? “And I didn’t borrow that much money.”
“You don’t recall the consummation?” The judge seemed amused. “Have you ever woken up together?”
Jill nodded. “Yes, once. And I gave him a schedule for paying back the loan.”
“The next morning she just left,” Burke said. “Didn’t even tell me we were married.”
“Was I supposed to stick around for breakfast? And for the record, I don’t recall our marriage any more than you do.”
“So you consummated the marriage?” the judge confirmed.
Jill shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”
She had flashes of memory of her and Burke. Of kisses that seared her soul, so hot she could barely breathe just thinking about them and the way his mouth had trailed over her skin. She was certain that had been after committing themselves to each other, as when she’d awoken in the cocoon of warmth of his arms, the alarm clock said five thirty. She’d quietly collected her things, including her three-page business proposal, which had been resting on top of her dress in its brown envelope. She’d folded it up, stuffing it in the nearest hallway trash can on her way to the elevator, impressed that she’d managed to stay in possession of the papers all night.
She now realized it likely hadn’t been her proposal, but instead their marriage certificate, which, according to her research, had been issued from the late night chapel on Shalina Avenue, just a few blocks from the conference. A chapel where, she’d then confirmed, they had indeed been married—at three in the morning.
“Normally being under the influence would be grounds for an annulment, but this is a uniquely messy situation,” the judge informed them. “I can’t grant your request. You need to apply for a divorce.”
“What?” Burke sprang from his chair. “I need her out of my life and out of my business before she takes everything. This marriage is her fault and it’s not fair that I should be punished for it.”
“I am not the only person who said ‘I do,’” Jill declared, standing to face him.
“I would never agree to marry you. You had to have drugged me.”
“I’ve had enough.” Jill scooped up her purse, afraid she was going to cry. Her first husband had been a piece of work and years ago she’d wasted enough big fat tears over him. She wasn’t going to do that over some man who was nothing more than a drunken mistake.
“I don’t deserve your attacks,” she said, tipping her chin up, “just because you’re feeling scared because I made you feel something that night.” She jabbed him in the chest. They had laughed all evening. She still remembered that. Their heads tipped together, the look in his eyes... It had been heady, and it had felt right. Enough that they’d let go of their hang-ups and gotten hitched.
That wasn’t all her fault. He was just as much to blame.
She thanked the judge and stalked into the hall, slinging her bag’s strap over her shoulder.
“You planned this all along, didn’t you?” he shouted after her, hurrying to catch up. “Marry me, act like it’s all ‘oops’ and take what you want, then discard me like I never mattered.”
Jill whirled, arms flung out to show him he couldn’t intimidate her. “You use women. You look down on businesses smaller than yours. You used me. And you messed up my life.”
“Your life? What about mine?”
“Was there something to mess up?” she asked coolly. “Your socialite of the week is upset to find out she’s been kissing a married man?”
“You’re—you’re…” Burke was shaking his finger, at a loss for words. Some man she’d married. He couldn’t even look her in the eye.
“I’m what?” she spat.
“Your blouse is unbuttoned.”
She looked down and clasped her hands over her exposed bra. The top two buttons across her chest had come undone in her outburst, revealing enough lingerie to be inappropriate in any setting outside a strip club or a photo shoot for undergarments. She furiously tried to fix her shirt, but one of the buttons was missing. Holding a hand over the gaping fabric, she faced Burke with burning cheeks.
“I have flashes of memory…” She tried to put words to the question she needed to ask, despite her deep humiliation. “Do I have to worry about STDs?”
“I use protection. In fact, I insist on it. And I don’t sleep around nearly as much as you believe.”
“Was there a used condom in the room?”
Burke’s lips were moving in a silent tirade. Finally he said, “Seriously?”
“I deserve an answer.”
“I always use protection, Jill.”
“Good.” She turned and began walking again.
When would she ever learn? Make a plan, stick to the plan. Don’t let spontaneity or charming men woo you. That was a recipe for ruined goals. Her ex, Hayes Hayward, had swept into her life like one wonderful coincidence. He was hot. He was smart. And he liked her—not her twin sister, Jodi. Not only that, he knew the restaurant business as well as accounting, and was more than happy to help out while sweeping her off her feet.
Everything had seemed absolutely perfect until a few months after their marriage, when he’d unceremoniously left. Not just with her heart, but with a stockpile of cash that had been supposed to be going toward the bills to keep the doors of The Café in Blueberry Springs open. She’d been embarrassed and horrified at how easily she’d been had. In one fell swoop she’d lost her job, her sister’s job, her marriage, her trust, her reputation and so much more.
With the help from local police officer and friend Scott Malone, she’d caught up with Hayes. After a little persuasion from Scott—who’d sworn her to secrecy over what he’d threatened on her behalf—the money was returned. All but thirty thousand, which she’d ended up raising on her own to pay the café owners. They hadn’t kept the restaurant open, though, saying it wasn’t worth the headache any longer.
It had been years since that mess with Hayes where he’d made her look like a trusting fool. Jill had worked hard to correct her image around Blueberry Springs, and she wasn’t going to give Burke the chance to add another blemish to it. She was going to quietly divorce him and move on, not add another juicy tidbit to the gossip mill. Not this time.
“What was I thinking, marrying you and then consummating it?” she muttered, her own self-loathing creating a wave of nausea.
“I’m good in bed,” Burke said defensively, falling into step beside her.
“Not good enough that I can actually remember.”
Liar.
She remembered a lot of it. A lot. And it had all b
een good. Really good.
She hid her smile as she saw him fighting with himself, resisting the urge to react to the arrow she’d sent straight at his ego.
Instead, he slipped out of his suit jacket and awkwardly tried to slide it around her shoulders as she walked.
She shrugged it away. “What are you doing?”
He sighed. “Just take it. I’m not the worst person you could have married.”
“That has yet to be proven.” His comments in the chambers, as well as about possibly suing her, still stung.
She didn’t want his jacket, but he was already helping her into it, forcing her to stop moving as he carefully did up the buttons for her. The tender gesture was confusing after his sharp words, and the comforting warmth of his jacket dampened her eyes. She made sure she looked down until she had her emotions back under control.
When she finally glanced up, there was a softness in his gaze that appeared apologetic.
“I’m going to burn this jacket when I get home,” she said, lifting her chin. “I hope you know that.”
To her surprise, he laughed. “You’re an awful wife.”
“And you’re a worse husband.”
“Then there’s nowhere for us to go but up.”
Burke felt like the world’s biggest heel. He’d been raised by his aunt to be a better man than one who shouted at women and made them feel horrible. And in public, no less.
If Aunt Maggie heard about how he’d treated Jill back there, she’d have his ear pinched in her grip so fast it hurt just thinking about it.
The stress had to be getting to him. His quest for market expansion being blocked by Jill, and her inability to immediately free up his credit, was making him twitch. His team had invested heavily in creating valuable momentum and now it would all be for nothing. Lost.
He had to find an answer and it was most definitely not marriage. That was never the answer. Women left. And when they did, they had a tendency to take down everything around them, like an angry kitten with a vendetta against draperies and glass vases. Absolute and total destruction.
What had he been thinking, uttering “I do”?