The Marriage Agenda (10 page)

He stared pensively at the thickening clouds. “I just realized I’ve never sat to watch the rain. Not once.”

His admission surprised her. “And to think I used to believe you had the perfect life. You’ve probably never had a splinter in your foot, either.”

His thumb ceased its motion. “Is a splinter in your foot supposed to be a good thing?”

She looked up at him. “It would be if you knew what you were missing.”

He watched the intensifying weather for a moment before he spoke. “You know, there’s something else I’ve never done.”

“I can only imagine.” She rolled her eyes, but despite her flippancy, her heart sped, not at his words, but at their soft, wistful quality. “What might that be?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone in the rain.”

Chloe swallowed. “Maybe you’ve never found the right person.”

His gaze fell to her lips. “Maybe I have.”

“We are two hours from home and it’s officially pouring. Don’t even think about it.”

He stood, pulling her up with him. “Is that a refusal?”

“It’s common sense.”

“Common sense is not actually
wanting
a splinter in your foot.” He maneuvered her near the railing, where a few errant drops found their way through the greenery and splattered the floor boards. “How’s this?”

She didn’t answer, which was apparently answer enough. He tugged her closer. For an endless moment, he did nothing but look. Then he threaded his fingers through her hair and leaned down, kissing her so softly she wondered if she had imagined the pressure, but there was no denying the effects. Her pulse raced, her heart stumbled, and her hands shook. Chill bumps pebbled her bare arms.
Just the rain.
But it wasn’t, and she knew it.

“Live up to your expectations?” she murmured.

The water weighted the rose branches and filled the blooms. “I know the home-and-garden gig was a bit of a blow to you,” he said softly, ignoring her question, “but it’s not so far from who you are. Is it?”

Chloe stared at him, surprised by his conclusion. How had she never seen it? She didn’t answer him.

She couldn’t.

He brushed back her hair and smiled. “Ready to go home?”

She looked around at the house. The porch. The storm.

The man she loved.

Words escaped her, emotion choking her. She nodded.

He took her hand and led her to the steps. The rain fell heavily, and they’d left the windows down. It would be a wet ride home.

“Ready to make a run for it?”

She nodded again, and despite her bittersweet emotions, she couldn’t help but laugh when they jumped and the lukewarm water sluiced over her. They ran to the car, holding hands like kids, and were within a few feet of its shelter when Knox stopped and drew her around. Before she’d managed the first word of protest, his mouth was on hers. Rain sheeted, soaking them both, but in the circle of his arms, Chloe didn’t care. He cradled her head with one hand and the small of her back with the other, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. Breathless moments passed. When they broke free, neither one moved. Then he kissed her again, slowly and gently, despite the torrent, and his smile was genuine.

Even with the wet hair and clothes plastered to his skin, he couldn’t have looked any better. The reason didn’t hit her at first, but then that crooked grin traced his lips and she knew. For the first time since he’d left her months earlier, Knox Hamilton had taken a step far more important than inviting her into his world.

He’d fit into hers.

Chapter Thirteen

Knox was soaked. Chloe was soaked. The damned leather upholstery was soaked. But despite the slight discomfort, Knox’s couldn’t remember when he’d felt so good. She’d asked him about the kiss—the first one—and he’d avoid answering her because he wasn’t finished yet. As for the second one…

“I kind of like kissing in the rain,” he said. Slight understatement…or more likely a vast one. Yeah, that was it. Vast understatement.

She kicked up the heater a notch and gave him a pointed look—one he wouldn’t buy as angry, no matter what she said. Then her expression softened. “You were right, you know. About the home-and-garden thing.”

“I’m glad.” Without thinking, he reached over and took her hand. Dammit, why did he keep doing that? Between touching her and thinking about making love to her—

Making love?
Where had
that
come from? He’d never thought those words before in his life. Not even before their breakup, when he’d spent most of his waking moments thinking about when he’d see her next, had those words dared breach his thoughts.
Sex, sex, sex.
The mantra didn’t help.

Chloe felt like more.

“What do you know about the Pactron deal?”

Knox blinked. “Pactron?”

“They’re the company buying my grandma’s farm.”

He shifted in the heated seat, wondering how the hell he’d managed to get hard wearing cold, wet jeans. A glimpse of Chloe’s wet T-shirt solved that mystery.

He cleared his throat. “I remember. Pactron Energy. I don’t know all the details offhand. I do know they received approval despite vehement objection from pretty much everyone.”

“Including Rex.”

“Especially Rex. But once they passed the environmental studies, there wasn’t much else they could do to fight it.”

“Why was the zoning approved?”

“If I recall correctly, the parcel they initially purchased had an old commercial or industrial zoning that grandfathered them in.”

She nodded. “There was a small fertilizer-distribution facility there years ago—mostly for the local farmers.”

“Makes sense. If that was the case, I’m guessing Pactron didn’t technically need a zoning approval, though they did need the permit—and more property. Rex figured they’d hit a wall with the environmental studies, but the site passed. Last I heard, they were making nice by buying up green space to create a buffer.”

“Yeah, they’re making nice all right. They very nicely bullied my grandmother off her land.”

He gave her a sideways glance. He’d known people were losing property, but it had just gotten personal…not just for her, but for him. He hated to think of her grandmother’s house being torn down.

“Is Rex on friendly terms with Pactron?”

Her question surprised him. “I can’t imagine he would be. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” she replied.

Chloe was a reporter. Random curiosity wasn’t a thing they did. “You can’t undo the approval, and Rex sure as hell won’t be able to ask nicely for them to go away—nor will I, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Her eyes snapped with irritation. “Give me a break, Knox. I’m not expecting you to undo the Pactron deal.”

“I’m sorry. People don’t normally ask questions without expecting answers.”

“I’m not
people
.”

He braced himself, expecting her to remind him she was his wife, subject to all of the privileges thereof.

But she didn’t.

Several miles passed in silence.

When she finally spoke, she did so softly. “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like being you, but I can tell you what it’s like being me. I…cared about you when I hadn’t a clue who you were. You can deny what we had all you want, but I know you know that to be true. I can’t say the name doesn’t mean anything now—we both know why I agreed to a loveless marriage, and the reason has Hamilton written all over it—but that’s the extent of why I’m here. The rest of the world can think what they want, but I’ve never asked you for your influence, and frankly I don’t want it. I’m my own person, and wearing your ring doesn’t change that.”

He should have been relieved by her words, but for some damnable reason, they stung. He spent a long time in silence trying to figure out why.

They were nearly home when she spoke. “You told me you wouldn’t have married anyone else, that you wouldn’t fake the relationship.”

“That’s true,” he said.

“Then you can understand it’s the same for me. Anyone else could have offered a similar deal, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t have considered it for a moment. Money, surnames, and influence mean nothing to me.”

The house came into view. He hit the button to raise the garage door, then steered easily into the space. Still, he said nothing.

Chloe picked up her purse and cell phone, then shot him a final look as she exited the car. “I only agreed to this because of how I feel about you, and if you weren’t so damn blind, you’d know it.”

She didn’t slam the door.

She just walked away, crossing the garage and disappearing into the house.

Knox stared at the space Chloe had vacated, a knot in his chest. The last thing in the world he wanted was to hurt her, yet it seemed as if it was the only thing he ever managed to do.

Maybe Toby had been right. If Knox had found an anonymous someone willing to look pretty, play the part, and remain closemouthed over the whole marriage agenda, things would be simpler now. He wouldn’t have a care in the world.

No emotional entanglements.

No-strings sex.

But he was kidding himself. He’d never been a casual-sex kind of guy—if for no other reason than he couldn’t risk becoming the next tabloid scandal—but he hadn’t even dated since Chloe. Not really. He’d showed up at an event with a plus one when necessary, but any interaction had begun and ended at the front door. He wasn’t blind—he knew an attractive woman when he saw one—but there’d been no brush with passion. No real desire.

Not like he felt for Chloe.

The woman had him on fire. No matter how determined he was to keep his hands and his dick to himself, he couldn’t stop wanting her. And he couldn’t help believing she wanted him, too. She wouldn’t fall apart so easily in his arms if she didn’t.

She wouldn’t be so damn hot and wet all the time.

Then it hit him. They were both thinking too much. They didn’t need less sex. They needed
more
. She needed to be distracted. When he got past those ironclad defenses of hers and kissed the sweat from her skin and took the breath from her lips, that was when she was happy.

He couldn’t give her
her
version of a happily-ever-after, but he could sure as hell do
happy
.

The knot in his chest loosened, and he had a feeling he wore a stupid grin as he stared through the doorway through which she’d disappeared. Maybe he could give her a wedding night after all.

Chloe wouldn’t know what had hit her.

He had a bet to lose.

…

Chloe decided to wait until Knox left the house to go through his files. Even though giving her access had been his idea, digging into his personal space felt like an invasion of his privacy. It was awkward enough without doing it in front of him. She figured she couldn’t very well shoo him away if she was in his office going through his stuff, so despite raging curiosity, she stayed on her own turf and tapped out a story on the season’s most celebrated container plants. It was easy enough…she had most of them in the room with her. But finishing the story didn’t supply her with the usual feeling of accomplishment—to the contrary, it filled her with a sense of impending doom. As easily as she’d managed that article, it was painfully clear anyone could do that job. She wouldn’t keep her position with the paper long if she didn’t make herself invaluable, and fast.

She needed a scoop.

After sending the document to her editor, she picked up the guest list Knox had provided. Over a hundred people, and aside from Knox, his mother, and his campaign manager, she personally knew exactly three of them: her parents and Lila. Chloe was surprised her parents had agreed to attend. Her mother had been livid about the marriage, but at least she’d remained quiet. She hadn’t admonished Chloe or berated the Hamilton clan, but she hadn’t needed to. When Chloe dated Knox the first time, her mother had made it known how she felt about Rex’s rumored philandering. Though she hadn’t been quick to judge Knox personally, she’d offered plenty of warning via the whole apple-doesn’t-fall-far-from-the-tree spiel.

Chloe wanted now to defend Knox, but how? She was bound by the terms of their contract, but even if she could talk, did it really sound that much better to say he just wanted her in his bed for a little while? She pushed the questions out of her mind. The clock was ticking.

She needed her story, and she wanted Rex. She had little to go on beyond her gut, but she had reason enough to be suspicious. Pactron Energy Corporation’s proposal to put up a new power plant had gotten everyone’s panties in a knot. The location they’d chosen was at the edge of a protected marshland, and the environmentalists had gone nuts over the encroachment, to say nothing of the inevitable pollution. The community was outraged, and the anger spread downstream to the affected tributaries of the Chesapeake Bay, then to supporters of the Bay itself. Rex, ever the voice of his constituents, had led the charge against Pactron, even landing a couple of national headlines in the process.

Convenient.

Despite the threat against her grandmother’s land, Chloe had almost relaxed. The odds were overwhelmingly against the energy plant’s approval. As part of the application process, three independent environmental-impact studies were required. Because the site not only sat directly adjacent to waterways that fed the bay, but also under a migratory-bird flight path, the likelihood of passing any kind of study was almost nonexistent…or so she’d thought.

All three commissions had approved.

Chloe had been stunned.

Pactron’s only obstacle was in buying up enough of the land around the site—land that included her grandmother’s farm. Fortunately, family farms were the cornerstone of the rural community and few landowners were giving in without a fight. Those who had wouldn’t close until deals were secured on all the land. That was Chloe’s saving grace…that, and a couple of rather suspicious moves on Rex’s part.

When he’d been paired with one of the Pactron board members in a charity golf tournament—something that could have been coincidental—they’d gotten on like old friends, despite their public feud. Chloe might have chalked it up to letting bygones be bygones, but she’d been unable to brush off the fact that the situation felt odd. On a hunch, she’d hunted down the
Tribune
photographer assigned to the event and studied the photos that hadn’t made the paper.

The laughter hadn’t been for the camera. In every shot, the men were relaxed. Candid. Smiling.

Chloe had dug deeper. She hadn’t found anything earth-shattering, just more casual meetings with no obvious official mandate. Her instincts screamed something was off about Rex’s playdates with Pactron board members, but she’d hit a wall.

Until she’d accepted Knox’s deal.

She had no idea if she’d ever be able to prove anything with her suspicions, but now that she had insider access, she had a chance—one she didn’t want to ruin by keeping her search too narrowly focused on Rex. She was still looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least she knew
which
haystack…and there was no better place to start than with the list for her reception. After searching each invitee, she ended up with about twenty who were newsworthy enough to warrant further investigation. She poked her head around and, assured Knox’s car remained absent from the garage, headed to his study to check the files. Cross-referencing names proved tricky—most were labeled by corporation or organization—so she worked back and forth between her laptop and the paperwork.

Then she hit pay dirt.

Pactron Energy Corporation—a whole file dedicated to them.

She went to the website and clicked to the page listing the board members—nothing she hadn’t done a dozen times before—and focused on one.
Harold Levenworth, CFO
. The chief financial officer was on her guest list, but why? As far as the general public knew, he and Rex were bitter enemies. Anyone who bothered to read up on local charity golf might suspect otherwise, but Chloe was probably the only person on earth who had given the unpublished photos more than a passing glance.

Pactron’s inch-thick file was more robust than the rest, but the contents seemed standard. She skimmed over a number of financial reports, unsure of their significance, before landing on a newspaper clipping: “Environmental Impact Studies Clear Way for Carbon Energy Plant.”

There were a number of other clippings, but nothing stood out.

Chloe wondered briefly if Rex’s vehement opposition to the site was the reason there was so much information on the company. Perhaps he’d been watching, waiting for a misstep—something, undoubtedly, to wave around to prove he’d been right all along—but the documentation seemed standard. Something like a shareholder might own? She didn’t know if the company was publicly traded, but even if it was, she didn’t think Rex would own shares. Not after the way he’d fought against them. That information could be too easily traced, and she felt certain he wouldn’t draw such obvious scrutiny.

But Knox hadn’t specifically said the files had come from Rex. Chloe had assumed as much, since they detailed the family business and their affiliations, but she would have to verify with Knox.

She had just lifted the pages and tapped them on the desk to neaten the stack when a small card fell to the floor. It lacked personalization or anything else to identify its author, save for a set of initials.

Thank you for pushing us through. H.L.

Harold Levenworth? She checked and found he had been on the Pactron board from the beginning. Moreover, he was the only one there with the initials HL.

Interesting. If the files were indeed Rex’s, why would anyone with Pactron thank him for anything? He’d fought them tooth and nail—a scenario that stood in stark contrast to “pushing through.” “Pushing through” sounded like…assistance. She frowned and stared harder at the card, as if her scrutiny would reveal anything more.