The Marriage Agenda (5 page)

Her fiancé. The guy with all the complications.

“How long are we staying in DC?” she asked. She’d yet to break the news of their engagement to Lila, who had probably worn calluses on her texting fingers with the effort to find out what had happened with Jeff. Chloe’s parents were also due a call. Despite the fact they lived halfway across the country, she probably didn’t have long to break the news before someone else did.

“Unless you have a conflict, we can leave tomorrow. What do you think about renting a furnished house outside the city?”

Anywhere, as long as it has a bedroom.

God, he was hot. And just like that, she really
was
questioning her morals. She’d agreed to marry him for access—not cash—but she’d just eaten a dinner at better than a hundred dollars a bite and she had enough ice on her ring finger to sink the Titanic.

Maybe she really didn’t have any morals. But she had a chance.

And she was taking it.

Chapter Seven

Somewhere in Lila’s proximity, glass was shattering. It had to be, with her shrieking. “You
what
?”

Chloe thought twice about dropping the phone and covering her ears. Whatever Lila would say next, Chloe probably wouldn’t want Knox to hear, and with the racket Lila was making, he’d hear it for sure. “I said yes.”

“Why the hell would do you that? What happened to Jeff?”

“Don’t ask. I think he would have left me for Knox in a heartbeat—in fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.”

“You do realize that tells me absolutely
nothing
of what happened.”

“Jeff was starstruck. Knox handed him a business card and told him to call him later. It was almost humiliating.”

“Only almost?”

Chloe shrugged, though Lila couldn’t see her. “I got the man.”

Lila laughed. Or maybe sobbed. “You got the
wrong
man. Please tell me this is some kind of revenge thing. I get Jeff was a bit…grounded…for your taste, but I figured that was what you needed. You know, to get over Knox.
Over.
Not under. This is utter insanity.”

“As far as you’re concerned, this is the natural evolution of a relationship that’s been kept quiet for the last few months.”

Lila grunted.

Chloe sank onto the edge of a bed that probably cost more than her car. Her old car, that was. Knox had provided a brand new one, which had been delivered to the house within a couple hours of him signing the lease. They hadn’t needed long to house hunt. As far as she was concerned, one million-dollar mansion looked the same as the next, and considering Chloe’s entire apartment would have fit easily into her new closet, she hadn’t felt the need to argue the finer points. The second home the Realtor showed them was both fully furnished and immediately available, so they’d taken it.

“Think about this, Chloe. Really think about this—about how he left you. What changed? I don’t doubt you have feelings for him, but what did he do to deserve you? There’s got to be more to this story.”

Of course there was. But she had signed a nondisclosure agreement, the terms—and consequences—of which left her praying she didn’t have a habit of talking in her sleep. “He said he was ready to get married, and I was the only person with whom he could see that happening.” That part, at least, was true. Chloe sighed. Who the hell was she mad at? Knox hadn’t lied to her, and she hadn’t exactly surrendered her self-respect by saying yes. As far as she was concerned, she had more to gain than he did. Even if she did have to deal with media scrutiny, they’d quickly grow tired of her. She was an only child with an uneventful, lower-middle-class upbringing, and parents who believed in staying together for better or worse…nothing newsworthy there.

“I am marrying him because I love him,” she said quietly. Because that was what she was supposed to say.

“Chloe, after what he did to you…”

She sighed. She didn’t have many close friends, and her marriage was the last thing that should come between her and the best of them. “Look, Li. He said he made a mistake. I believe he’s genuinely sorry, and you know better than anyone that I’ve never stopped loving him.”
Ouch.

“Fine. Love him. But do you have to
marry
him? If he loves you now, he’ll love you in six months and
then
… Oh, hell, now I sound like my mother.” Lila blew sharply. “I may never forgive you for that.”

Chloe laughed. “Look, I know it’s a hard sell, but can you trust me here? I know what I’m doing.”

Lila sighed. “That must have been some amazing sex.”

Amazing was an understatement. The sex was so amazing it had “bad idea” written all over it. Despite the tingles wreaking havoc with her body, Chloe outwardly ignored the comment. “The wedding will be just him and me and the minister and the required witnesses, but there will be a reception next Friday at the Wyndham Club.”

Lila’s long, low whistle cut the silence. “Nicely played.”

Chloe let go of a breath. Lila’s tone had lost its suspicious note. Chloe had been worried her friend would push until she got some version of the truth, but she’d backed off. “I wouldn’t say—”

Knox walked in.
To their bedroom.
Everything had happened so quickly. Forty-eight hours ago, she’d been complaining about missing a date with her sofa and a carton of ice cream, and now she was engaged to a man who had literally been named DC’s most eligible bachelor two years running. She just couldn’t get over the fact she and Knox shared a bedroom. And a bed. And soon, vows.
False ones.

“I’ve got to go, Lila.” Chloe ended the call to the sound of Lila’s unanswered protests and drank in the sight of Knox leaning against the doorframe. Though his stance was casual—and effortlessly so—he stood as if he had been sculpted. The man was a model of physical perfection. He looked more like an athlete than a politician. It was no wonder he was polling favorably…he probably left every woman in his target demographic quaking. That lopsided, boyish grin just begged to be tasted, and she’d yet to wrap her brain around the fact she was the only one whose mouth would get anywhere near him.
She
was the one he wanted.

She was the one he didn’t want to love.

His gaze toured her unapologetically, and she returned the perusal as good as she got. How did a man who probably spent ninety percent of his waking hours in a suit manage to be so tan? He looked as if he had just stepped off a yacht. Hell, he probably
had
a yacht. They were to be married in a matter of days, and she didn’t even know. She’d tried to make up for the year of ignoring his existence with an hour of Googling him that morning, but the yacht thing hadn’t surfaced.

Interestingly enough, neither had any other women. She didn’t think him dishonest, but it was so hard to believe that he’d managed to keep his hands to himself—however literally—since they’d split. She had no doubt the Pierce girls had their sources, but they couldn’t know everything. They hadn’t known about her.

“Have you really been flying solo since you broke up with me?”

His lips quirked. “In what way?”

Her field of view narrowed with her eyes.
“Sexually.”

“You first.”

“I already told you I had.”

“And I already told you the same.”

“A year is a long time to abstain,” she said. Just because the internet hadn’t spewed forth any candidates didn’t mean they didn’t exist. He’d managed to date her for months without drawing attention to their relationship.

He raised his brow. “Where are you going with this?”

Too late, she realized this conversation might be taking a dangerous turn, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of thinking he was getting to her. He had enough evidence of that already. She smiled sweetly. “I don’t think you’ve made it more than ten hours since we were reacquainted.”

He graced her with a smug, tilted grin, which couldn’t be more kissable if it tasted of chocolate and wine. He crossed the room, his bare feet toe deep in the most ridiculously plush carpeting that could possibly exist anywhere, and leaned so his lips grazed her ear. “I haven’t heard any complaints.”

Well, he had her there. The sex was incredible, but wasn’t that the problem? She wasn’t a Neanderthal—she couldn’t be the recipient of those tender touches and mind-bending orgasms and not fall harder. And then there was that whole morals charge… As ridiculous as it sounded, she didn’t want to be the mistress to his almighty principles. It didn’t matter how sincere his purpose for refusing love. He refused it all the same.

And if she wanted to keep a single piece of her heart intact, she’d have to refuse him back.

“Are you suggesting I can’t go without sex?” he asked.

“I bet you can’t.” She was flailing. And with that challenge, she was flat-out crazy.

His eyes narrowed but not with suspicion—more like interest. Enough interest to suggest she’d just taken a misstep of epic proportions. “Can’t what?”

She found her tongue…and, in looking at him, a thousand things she’d rather do with it than continue this no-win conversation. “I bet you can’t wait long
at all
for sex.”

“Are you serious?” He didn’t present any of the indignation the words suggested. He looked more like an animal circling its prey—an animal with a serenity of expression that indicated he knew he’d already won.

Um, no?
“Of course I’m serious.”

“You’re on.”

Uh-oh.
“On what?”

He laughed, but he didn’t sound as if he was joking. “You don’t seem to think I can last for an extended period of time without sex, and I don’t think you’ll last the week. You’re on. First one to beg for it loses.”

Chloe pasted on a grin, though inside she was undulating at the knowledge of what he could do to her. She was in it this deep…and it didn’t sound much like a bet anyone would lose. At least not without winning. “That’s a bit open to interpretation, don’t you think? I think we need something a little more concrete.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You can beg all you want… It’s the orgasm that decides it.”

His brow lifted.

“
Any
orgasm,” she clarified, shooting a pointed look in the direction of his man parts. “Keeping your hands to yourself won’t help you this time.”

He returned the carnal focus, and she’d swear she heated under his appraisal. “That’s cute,” he said. “It’s also fundamentally unfair.”

“Why?”
I’ll match you coy word for coy word, buddy.
“Do you have such a hard time controlling yourself?”

“Around some people.”

Good to know
. Some people,
her ass. He’d better learn to control himself around
all
people. “Which brings me back to my point. You can’t make it without sex.”

He didn’t back down. “Not exactly. My point is you can pretend your orgasm didn’t happen. Mine are…unmistakable.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Wait a minute. I didn’t say no. What’s at stake here?”

“If I win, you get to dress up in your tux and take me out for tacos.”

“That’s not much of a deterrent.”

“Clearly you didn’t see your face last time I mentioned it.”

He grinned crookedly. “Fine.
When
I win, you sign up for a culinary class—one where they teach the minimalistic art of plating.”

“You’re on. And by the way, that will never,
ever
happen, so prepare to beg.”

“Knox?” A woman’s voice called from elsewhere in the house.

Chloe jumped, but Knox didn’t flinch. “Who is that?” she asked.

“My mother.”

Chloe looked down at her packing-and-moving sweats and back to Knox. Great. Exactly how anyone would dress to meet the queen. “You’re in here talking about sex,” she hissed, “and your
mother
is here?”

He shrugged from behind one of those boyish, lopsided grins. “You have that effect on me.”

“That’s
just
what I want your mother to know. Ever heard of a first impression?”

“I wanted you then, too.”

Chloe stared at him, her jaw unhinged.

“Knox?” His mother sounded closer now.

“Get out there before she finds us,” Chloe said. “I need five minutes.”

“Yes, dear.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and nudged him through the doorway. She stopped short of pushing the door closed all the way—she didn’t want news of his mother’s visit to be met with that noise, of all things—and made a mad dash for the Biggest Closet on Earth. Her meager wardrobe looked to be even less so in the massive space, but that didn’t make it any easier to find something to wear. Fortunately, the clothes she had hanging in her apartment had been brought over on their hangers. She quickly found a simple maxi dress and ditched her sweat pants and tee, brushed her hair, and slipped into a comfortable pair of sandals.

Mother-in-law.
Somehow that particular phrase hadn’t entered the vernacular of the marriage talk.

She swung open the door and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.
Great.
Chloe was completely out of her element in the gleaming expanse of polished granite and stainless steel. The only things in the room that were remotely familiar were the sink and the microwave, and the latter had twice as many buttons as hers at home. She was totally without her bearings…what better place or time to meet Knox’s mother? It didn’t matter how nice Katherine Hamilton appeared in the public eye. Selling a sudden marriage to the media would be hard enough…convincing this woman she hadn’t married her son for his bank account would probably require a miracle.

Deep breath.

Chloe had heard plenty about Katherine Hamilton, but despite her reputation, the news coverage didn’t do the woman justice. She was perfectly put together in a simple cream-colored suit, while her sweeping updo, flawless makeup, and brilliant jewelry lent the impression she’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine. But while Chloe expected the woman to carry an air of superiority, she exuded nothing but warmth. Her smile when she saw Chloe lit her eyes, and despite her nervousness, Chloe took an immediately liking to her.

“Mrs. Hamilton,” she said. “It’s an honor to meet you. Chloe Lochlan.”

“Please, call me Katherine.” She swept Chloe into a hug. Smiling kindly, she said, “My son tells me you’ll soon be a Hamilton. Will you be taking the family name?”

Chloe bit her lip—she hadn’t given her name a second thought. Knox wasn’t marrying her for love, so she felt he should keep his name to himself. But was that what he wanted? She had no idea what would work best for his campaign. Maybe keeping her own would work in her favor…surely someone seeking no more than the prestige of the Hamilton family coffers would want the perks extended by carrying the last name.

“Chloe’s a writer,” Knox offered. “She’s keeping her name for professional reasons.”

Good one, Knox.
His explanation was not only reasonable but hard to argue with.

Katherine released her lingering hold on Chloe’s arm and addressed her son. “There are some samples for your reception in my car. Would you kindly get them so I may have a moment alone with my future daughter-in-law?”