Peyton had grown pale during his speech.
“Are we ready to go?” Ellie said as she bounded back into the room.
“I just need to get my bag,” Peyton said, leaving the room as quickly as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint worthy of a cheetah.
“Yeah, kiddo, we’re just about ready,” Galen answered as Ellie looked from Peyton’s retreating back to his face.
“You talked her into coming, didn’t you?” the nine-year-old said, beaming at him with great pleasure.
“Looks like it.”
The apartment phone started to ring and he answered it. The real-estate agent had arrived, ready to escort them to the properties. He’d just hung up as Peyton rejoined them. Her color was back, he noted, and she’d applied some lipstick and combed her hair, but he could see by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t entirely happy to be involved in this little jaunt.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely as she came to a halt.
She shrugged in response. “Let’s get this over with.”
Galen couldn’t help but smile. “You make it sound like we’re leading you to your execution. Trust me—it won’t be as bad as that.”
“It had better not be,” she said firmly. Then, letting Ellie take her hand, she led the way out the front door.
* * *
They’d already looked at two houses, both beautiful, but both completely unsuitable for their requirements. Galen had been adamant that he didn’t want Ellie to be too far from her school or her friends, and the agent assured him that the last property on the list for the day would meet their needs. When they pulled up in the driveway outside the multibay garage, Peyton began to think the woman might be right. This property looked big enough for all three of them; the bedrooms weren’t too close together and they wouldn’t be bumping into one another all the time, like they seemed to do in the apartment. Here, Peyton could definitely have her space while she finished her article. Better yet, the property was vacant and ready for immediate occupation and had a stunning view over Puget Sound.
She couldn’t believe how quickly things went after that—after a few phone calls they were told they could take possession the following weekend.
“I can arrange a truck to collect your things for you,” Galen offered as they drove back to his apartment.
“No, that’s okay. I thought I’d keep my apartment for now.”
He shot her a glance before putting his attention back on the road, and she noticed his hands tighten ever so much on the wheel. To her relief, he didn’t raise the subject again during their ride home.
But once Ellie went to bed that night and before she could escape to her own room, he asked her to join him for a nightcap. She was on the verge of saying no, but he preempted her by pouring two snifters of brandy and gesturing toward the sofa where he’d been sitting earlier. Feeling trapped, she took the glass he’d poured and chose one of the easy chairs opposite the sofa.
“What is it?” she said, coming straight to the point.
“You never mentioned you were keeping your apartment.”
“Look, it’s still early days—you can’t blame a girl for being a little cautious.”
“Peyton, we’re married. That takes a level of commitment I’m not seeing from you.”
“Wow, talk about making me feel like I’ve just been sent to the principal’s office,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
But he was right. She wasn’t as committed because she was using him. So how did she play this? It was becoming harder to stay focused when every time she was alone with him, all she could think about was how his mouth had felt on hers. The taste of him, the feel of him beneath her hands. She was shaken by the swell of sheer need that bloomed from deep inside her and knew if she allowed herself to capitulate at that final barrier and let him make love to her, let herself make love to him, she’d never be able to complete this task she’d set for herself.
She decided to approach their conversation from another angle. Perhaps a blend of honesty, a few select words about her past and an appeal to his chivalry would get her out of this awkward mess.
“Look, Galen, I’ve avoided commitment for a long time because of a really traumatic experience in my past. I—” She paused, partly for effect but also because of the massive lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. “I loved someone very much once. Losing them broke me apart. I don’t know if I’m actually capable of feeling that level of love for another person again.”
He leaned forward, concern painted clearly in his beautiful eyes. For a moment Peyton felt a shaft of guilt. He was only trying to do the right thing and she, most definitely, was not.
“Can we at least try?” he asked. “It’s clear we’re attracted to each other. You chose to get into this with me. No one forced your hand. You had to know that intimacy would come up at some stage.”
“But not this soon!” she blurted without thinking. “I don’t want to put myself at risk of being hurt like that again. Please respect that.”
“So you want all the appearances of a good marriage, without the trimmings?”
A crooked smile pulled at his lips and she felt that all-too-familiar tug deep inside. He was so easy to fall for, so easy to want to get to know, so easy to want, period.
“Isn’t that what you wanted, too?” she asked, remembering his words during their wedding reception.
He sighed and sat back again, his hands now resting on the tops of his thighs, fingers splayed. Somehow, she couldn’t take her eyes off them. Couldn’t stop herself remembering their gentle, sensual touch on her skin.
“It’s what I thought I wanted but here we are, just over a week out and, to be totally honest with you, I want more.”
Peyton lifted her gaze to his face, to the entreaty in his eyes.
“I can’t give you more. Not yet.”
Even as she said the words she felt guilt slice through her. If the circumstances had been different then, yes, maybe she would have grasped what he was offering her with both hands and run with it. But they weren’t. It was as simple as that.
“Well, I guess I have to thank you for your honesty and hope that at some stage your feelings about the matter will change. It won’t, however, change how I feel about you.”
She nodded and took a sip of the brandy. It warmed a trail down her throat. “Your own feelings about me might change, too,” she said, mindful of how he would probably react when he discovered her true reason for marrying him.
She doubted he’d be quite as keen on making theirs a real marriage in every sense when that happened. In fact, she doubted he’d even be able to stand the sight of her anymore. That knowledge seared into her heart like a burning arrow but she forced herself to ignore the sensation. People hurt people. She’d been on the receiving end of it often enough to know she didn’t want to go through that ever again.
“I need an early night. Thanks for the drink.”
But as she stood and took her glass through to the kitchen, leaving Galen in the semi-dark of the lounge room, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that somehow he’d wended his way through the labyrinthine corridors that protected her emotions and that when she did walk away from him, it would hurt her, too.
Eleven
“But I don’t want to go. Why do I have to?”
Peyton heard Ellie’s vehement words as she made her way downstairs to breakfast. They’d been in the house a week and each morning had presented some drama or another as they settled into a new routine.
“It’s to earn your next Girl Scout achievement, isn’t it?” was Galen’s response. “Besides, all your friends are going. You don’t want to be left out while they’re away having a great time. It’s just one night, Ellie, and you love the museum.”
“I’m not going,” Ellie said again, just as forcefully as the first time.
&nb
sp; “Oh, yes, you are, young lady,” Galen responded with equal determination.
Peyton walked into the breakfast room just as Ellie’s lower lip began to wobble.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”
“Galen says I have to go but I don’t and I’m not going to,” Ellie said with a tremor in her voice.
“She does and she will,” Galen said, sounding more adamant than Peyton had ever heard him.
“Whoa, take a breath, everyone, will you?” Peyton said, holding her hands up for further effect. “First, Ellie, tell me what this is about.”
Peyton gave Galen a stern look, warning him to stay quiet, as Ellie began to tell her about the overnight camp at the museum.
“That sounds really fun. Why don’t you want to go?” she coaxed.
“What if something happens to you?”
“Happens? Like what?” Even though she asked, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.
“Like, y’know.”
Ellie’s shoulders slumped and a tear trickled down her face. Peyton squatted down and took her hands in hers.
“Like what happened to your mom and dad?” she asked, confronting the giant elephant in the room.
Ellie nodded. Peyton pulled her into her arms.
“Oh, honey, I can see why you’re afraid. Would it help if I tell you that Galen and I will do everything we can to look after each other while you’re away? Maybe we can speak with your Scout leaders and see if they’ll let you call us at bedtime. Would that help?”
“Maybe.”
Peyton looked up at Galen, who nodded. “I’ll call them right now, okay, Ellie?” he said, sliding his phone from his pocket.
He left the room and Peyton could hear the low tones of his voice as he made the call. She realized she was still hugging Ellie to her, and realized, too, that while she’d avoided being overly affectionate with the little girl, it somehow felt right to hold her like this—to be the one offering her comfort when she most needed it.
She wondered if whoever had adopted her little girl comforted her like this when she was distressed. Most of the time, Peyton barely allowed herself to think of the daughter she’d signed over to the private adoption agency. It simply hurt too much. But somehow, holding Ellie like this filled a hole inside her that she hadn’t even wanted to acknowledge was there.
She gave the little girl one last squeeze then let her go. Offering Ellie comfort was one thing. Taking it for herself was quite another and she couldn’t allow herself to fall into that trap. She’d spent most of her adult life avoiding people with children because she hadn’t wanted to suffer the questions she knew it would raise in her mind. Questions about her own child’s growth and development. Questions about the sound of her voice, the color of her hair, whether she was sporty or bookish or both.
Peyton couldn’t help herself. She reached out to smooth back a lock of hair that had fallen forward on Ellie’s face.
“Okay, we have a meeting after school with one of the leaders who will be on the trip with you,” Galen said as he reentered the room. “We’ll work out a management strategy together, okay?”
Ellie looked confused. “Management what?”
Peyton brushed the girl’s cheek. Now that she’d allowed herself to comfort her, she simply couldn’t seem to stop. “Don’t worry, Ellie. It just means we’re going to get together to discuss making you feel safe and secure on the trip. Honestly, we’d hate you to miss out on something that we know you’re going to love.”
“And if I still don’t want to go?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, okay? Let’s not make any decisions right now,” Peyton reassured her.
“Okay, kiddo. Get your bag. The bus will be at the end of the driveway in a few minutes,” Galen said, gently coaxing Ellie along.
Ellie grabbed her bag and started out the breakfast room but stopped, turned and raced back to Peyton. Wrapping her arms around Peyton’s neck, she whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
Before Peyton could gather her thoughts together and answer, Ellie had let her go again and was racing out the door, with Galen close behind her. It was part of their morning ritual, waiting for the bus together, and to be honest, Peyton was now glad of the moment to herself to gather her thoughts together.
Ellie loved her? Did a child fall in love with an adult that fast or were her words merely an expression of thankfulness for bringing the argument she’d been having with Galen to a close and pushing him to find a new solution? Whatever it was, it terrified her. She wasn’t here to be Ellie’s mom. In truth, she wasn’t here to be Galen’s wife, either. And what she had planned to do would hurt them both. What was she going to do?
* * *
A week later they gathered with all the parents to bid farewell to the bus as the kids loaded aboard. Galen rested his arm across Peyton’s shoulders and he was glad that, for once, she didn’t pull away. And, judging by the glimpse of tears he’d seen in her eyes as Ellie had turned on the bus steps and waved to them, his wife wasn’t quite as unmoved by this moment as she’d tried to portray. It was a side of her he hadn’t expected to see. Peyton was normally so contained when it came to her emotions. The only time he’d seen her lose her iron grip on her control was that night during their honeymoon. Right now, however, she looked as vulnerable as any parent sending their kid away to an overnight camp.
“She’ll be fine,” he murmured in her ear as the bus started up and the windows were filled with young faces and waving hands.
“I know.”
“I was thinking—maybe we could go out for a drive together today and have lunch somewhere.”
He didn’t realize quite how much he was hoping she’d say yes, until she pulled away from him.
“That sounds like a nice idea, but I have some calls to make.”
She’d had a private line installed to her office at the house and she’d been spending a whole lot of time in there. He respected anyone with a strong work ethic, but he had the suspicion that a good part of her office hours were spent very determinedly staying out of his way.
Galen nodded. This was obviously a battle for another day. “Okay, maybe another time, then.”
She visibly relaxed, showing she’d obviously expected him to push back.
“Yeah, sure, another time.”
“I’ll drop you back home then head into the office for a while.”
“Thanks.”
He cringed internally. Things between them were so damn stilted. He hated it. They walked together to the car. Together, yes, but apart, as well. No touching, no accidental brushing of their bodies. It’ll work out, he encouraged himself. It’s still early days. They’d only been married a month; they were still getting to know one another. But even as he gave himself the little pep talk, he knew the problems went deeper. Peyton was deliberately shielding herself from him. Was it really because of her long-lost love, or was it something more?
After dropping her home and getting to Horvath Hotels and Resorts head office, he settled himself at his desk and tried to turn his attention to work. It was hopeless. All he could think about was Peyton and how little he knew about her. There was someone who could help with this, he realized—his grandmother. Did he want to ask her advice on the situation, or should he turn to his brother or cousin Ilya instead? Or did he simply try to work this out himself? He twiddled his pen end over end between his fingers before slapping it onto his desk with a hard smack. He had to do this himself. Running to anyone else when he had a problem wasn’t his style. He solved problems, period.
So, he and Peyton didn’t know each other that well yet. She’d opened up a little when he’d cooked her a meal in Hawaii. Maybe he’d try that tactic again tonight and see where it led. He’d noticed that when she was working she was oblivious to the world around her, even to the point of needing to be rem
inded to have meals. She wouldn’t even notice him coming home and cooking for her. But he might need a little help preparing for the meal.
He picked up the phone and called the new housekeeper. Peyton had been adamant she didn’t want live-in staff in the house, so they’d compromised. Galen had hired a woman who was happy to come six days a week to do cleaning and some meals along with supervising Ellie after school as necessary.
When Maggie answered the phone he told her what he had in mind. She was more than happy to do the shopping for him and told him everything would be waiting in the fridge when he got home. He hung up satisfied that he finally had a plan in action.
* * *
Galen made it home early and went upstairs to change, noting that Peyton’s office door was firmly closed—a good indicator that she was in the zone and working hard. Once he’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt he went down to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. As good as her word, Maggie had made sure everything he’d asked for was there. He took out the butterflied chicken and prepared a honey-and-rosemary marinade to paint it with. Once he’d done that and added some seasoning, he took the bird in its dish outside and set it in the barbecue to roast. He quickly scrubbed some baby potatoes and put them in a pot, ready to cook. Then he set to dicing zucchini, mushrooms, onions and bell peppers, and pushed them onto metal skewers ready to add to the barbecue before the chicken was done.
Vengeful Vows (Marriage At First Sight Book 3) Page 9