The Marriage Bargain (9 page)

Michael watched the gesture with barely hidden amusement. “It seems Richard thinks you are the perfect man for the job. Perhaps we can set up a meeting to go over your ideas.”

“Thank you. I’ll call your secretary and arrange an appointment.” She caught the clear-cut simplicity in his tone, and knew Michael noticed. Nick didn’t play certain business games, namely being too arrogant to pick up the phone himself to call for an appointment.

“Very good.” Michael took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “It was lovely to meet you, Alexandria.” His Italian accent caressed her name. “I’m having a dinner party for a few close friends two weeks from tonight. Would you join me?”

She noted he directed his invitation to her so she turned to her husband. “Darling? Are we free?”

This time, his movement wasn’t subtle. He took a step behind her and wrapped both hands around her waist, drawing her back against him. Her butt pressed against his groin. Iron thighs trapped hers. He rested both hands directly under her breasts and spoke. “We’d love to come.”

“Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you. Eight o’clock.” He nodded to Nick and directed a smile toward her. “Have a good evening.”

Within minutes of Michael leaving, Nick released her. The sudden loss of his body heat caused a chill to run down her spine. His face lost the look of a lover and turned impersonal. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, he strode toward the door, getting the coats from his hostess and saying his good-byes. She spoke to the few friends she had made and followed her husband to the car.

The lack of conversation continued during the drive home. Sick of the silent game, Alexa made the first move. “Did you have a good time?”

He grunted.

Alexa took that as a yes. “The food was really good, huh? And I was surprised at how nice some of the women were. I was invited to an art opening for Millie Dryer. Isn’t that great?”

He snorted.

“How did business go? Were you successful tonight?”

He made another weird noise. “Not as successful as you, I guess.”

Anger surged through her blood. Her voice strained with tension. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind.”

Her fists clenched. The chill left her body and twisted to a fiery heat. “You’re a hypocrite and a jerk. You asked me to seek Michael out and bring you back information. Do you think I’m stupid, Nick? You used me, but now you’re pissed off. I did everything you wanted. Consider your favor completed.”

“I only suggested you may be able to pick up something to help me with my business. I asked you to soften him up, not give him a hard on that’ll last for days.”

He swung the car into the drive with a squeal of tires and cut the engine.

She sucked in her breath. “Screw you, Nick Ryan! He treated me with courtesy and never crossed the line once he found out I was married. But you’re missing the big picture, Pretty Boy. Michael doesn’t let business interfere with pleasure. I could’ve stripped off all my clothes and begged him to give you the contract and he wouldn’t have budged. I can’t help you with this one—you’re on your own.”

She got out of the car and stalked toward the house.

He cursed and trotted at her heels. “Fine. Then we don’t have to go to his party. I’ll just set up a business meeting.”

She opened the door and tossed her head. “So, don’t go. But I am.”

“What?”

“I’m going. I liked him and I think his party will be fun.”

He slammed the door, marched into the living room, and ripped off his tie. “You are my wife. You will not be going to any parties without me.”

She wiggled out of her coat and hung it in the closet. “I’m a business partner who follows the rules. We’re free to have our own lives as long as we don’t sleep with anyone. Correct?”

He closed the distance between them and glared down at her. “I’m concerned about my reputation. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

She lifted her chin and deliberately taunted him. “I’ll follow the rules of our deal but I’m going to Michael’s party. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a man’s company. A man who is actually charming and funny and…warm.”

Her last word exploded in the air between them. She watched in fascination as the calm man she knew turned into someone different. His clear eyes turned hazy, his jaw clenched, his body locked. His hands lifted until they grasped her upper arms. He looked like he was ready to shake her, or do something else, something completely…irrational.

Her body lit up like an electrical current. Her lips parted to take in breath. And she waited.

“Do you need someone that bad, Alexa?” His mocking tone raked over her. He lowered his head so his mouth stopped inches from hers. With slow purpose, his hands moved from her arms and upward to circle around her neck. Linking his fingers around the sensitive flesh, his thumbs tipped her head up, so he clearly spotted the wildly beating pulse her dress didn’t hide. He watched her face while he continued the torture by tracing the line of her collarbone, the slope of her shoulders. Then moved lower. Both palms slid down her front and cupped her breasts in his hands. Excitement danced over her nerve endings. Her muscles softened and grew weak. Her breasts swelled and ached, rising to meet him. His thumbs grazed the tips, and a low groan rose from deep in her throat. He made a low murmur of satisfaction as he continued the stroking, teasing motions. She felt him harden, rise and press against the sensitive apex between her thighs. Liquid warmth rushed through her.

“Maybe I should give you what you need so badly.” He thrust his hips against hers to give her a taste, and she shook in response. His hands slipped under her dress, under her bra, and met warm, willing flesh. “Maybe if I took you now, you wouldn’t need to go running to Conte.” Her tummy plunged as those talented fingers plucked at her nipples and stroked her, his motions gentle and tender even as his words stung.

She trembled before him, a bundling mass of emotion and sensation, but her mind stayed icy clear. The truth of his actions forced her to play out her hand to win. Letting him win this battle would weaken her. He was going to kiss her. Right here, right now. He’d give her so much pleasure she’d beg for more, and leave her pride and sanity shredded. He wanted to kiss her for one reason—his power and manhood had been threatened, and he wanted it back. He didn’t want
her
. The wild call of mating and male dominance beckoned him, and she was stuck in his path.

So, Alexa gathered up the scattered threads of her control and played her trump card.

She moved even closer and let her lips rest a bare inch from his. His breath rushed over her mouth.

“No, thank you,” she whispered. She pulled his hands off of her. “I prefer we stick to business. Good night.”

She turned her back on him and disappeared up the stairs.

…

Nick’s hands hung at his sides, empty. For one moment, he’d been filled with her: her curves, her scent, her heat. Now he stood in the middle of the room, alone, just like he had on their wedding night. A married man with a hard-on and no relief in sight. Amazed at his ridiculous predicament, he tried to go over the events of the evening and see where he’d gone wrong.

The moment he caught her with Conte, a slow, steaming anger had risen up within him. The heat started at his feet, traveled to his stomach, his chest, and finally settled like a hot band around his head. If he was a horse, he would have snorted out smoke and stamped his hooves. If he was a wolf, he would have howled at the moon.

Her hand had rested on the count’s arm. He must’ve been quite amusing, because she threw her head back and laughed, her cheeks flushed and rosy. Her full lips had gleamed under the chandelier light. They’d acted like they were long-time friends instead of people who had just met.

But the worst was when she smiled at him.

It was a dazzling, bewitching, come-hither smile that told the man on the receiving end he was everything she was looking for, everything she wanted. A smile that gave a man nasty dreams at night and haunted his waking hours. Nick had never seen that smile directed at him and something crazy exploded inside him.

His plan had misfired. He’d expected her to be mildly entertaining to the count and gain a few tidbits of knowledge to help close the deal. Not actually enjoy the man so openly.

Nick cursed and picked up his tie, ready to go to bed. As he climbed the stairs, he thought about what Alexa had said. If Conte did separate business and pleasure, he’d played the scene all wrong. Maybe when he requested a business meeting he’d concentrate on the rational logistics of the building rather than paint an emotional landscape for the sale. Maybe Conte was only passionate when it came to women. Maybe he wanted a cool-headed executive to head the architectural team.

Nick stopped at her door. The light was off. He paused for a moment and listened for her breathing. He wondered what she wore to bed. Images of scanty black lace wreaked havoc with his mind, but even the thought of her in flannel pants and a cropped T-shirt did things to him no other woman had ever accomplished. Was she lying awake in bed, dreaming of Conte? Or was she thinking about their last kiss and wanting more?

He walked to his own room. She’d rejected him. Her own damn husband. And he was stuck with the one thing he’d been horrified of.

A wife he was attracted to.

He shut his bedroom door and forced the thought out of his mind.

Chapter Six

Alexa sat at the table and faced her parents. Her hands shook with joy and relief as she pushed the check across the battered kitchen table that was covered in happy yellow plastic suns. “Nick and I want you to have this to pay off the mortgage,” she announced. “There will be no arguments or protests. We talked about this for a long time, and we’re lucky to have so much money. We want to share. It means a lot to us, so please accept this as our gift.”

Their matching stunned expressions made tears prick her eyes. How many nights had she tossed and turned, feeling guilty for being unable to get her parents out of their financial mess? As the oldest sibling, she hated the helplessness that choked her. She decided dealing with Nick and her own burgeoning emotions was worth it. The payoff of security and safety for her family eased a deep ache, which she’d fought since her father had the heart attack.

“But how can you do this?” Maria pressed trembling hands to her lips as Jim put his arm around her. “Nick shouldn’t feel like we’re a burden. You’re a young married couple with dreams. For your bookstore. For a family with lots of children. You shouldn’t be taking care of us, Alexandria. We are the parents.”

Jim nodded. “I already decided to take an extra job. We don’t need the money.”

She sighed at her parents’ innate stubbornness. “Listen to me. Nick and I have plenty of money, and this is important to us. Dad, a second job isn’t an option in your condition, unless you want to die. You heard the doctor.” Alexa leaned forward. “This will give you the home free and clear so you can concentrate on paying the other bills. Save for Izzy’s and Gen’s college. Help Lance through his final year of medical school. We’re not giving you enough to retire, guys, just enough to make things a bit easier.”

They exchanged glances. Wild hope glimmered in her mom’s eyes as she clutched the check. Alexa gave them a tiny nudge to push them over the edge. “Nick didn’t want to come with me today. There’s one condition to this money—he never wants to hear about it again.”

Maria gasped. “I have to thank him. He needs to know how much we appreciate this—how he’s changed our lives.”

She swallowed around the tightness in her throat. “Nick doesn’t like to show a lot of emotion. When we discussed this, he insisted he never wants the money mentioned again.”

Jim frowned. “He won’t accept a simple thank you? After all, if it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Anyone can get sick, Dad,” she whispered.

The grief of the past ravaged his face. “But I left.”

“And came back.” Maria grasped his hand and smiled. “You came back to us and made it right. No more talk like this.” Her mother straightened in her chair, eyes shining with emotion. “We will accept the check, Alexandria. And we’ll never mention it to Nick. As long as you promise to go home and tell him he is our angel.” Her voice broke. “I’m so proud you are my daughter.”

Alexa hugged her. After a few more moments of conversation, she kissed both her parents and left the house. Poetry night was taking place at BookCrazy and she couldn’t be late. She started her shuddering Volkswagon Bug and headed toward her store as her thoughts whirled.

The money ruse was unfortunate but necessary. She’d never admit to Nick how bad her parents’ financial situation was. The image of him tossing a wad of money at her like enough bucks could solve any problem made her squirm. Her pride was important, and so was her parents’. They solved their own problems. She had an instinct that Nick Ryan believed money took the place of emotion, which was a lesson his parents had delivered on a daily basis. She shuddered at the thought.

No, she’d manage to do this on her own.

She settled down and drove to work.

…

Alexa glanced around BookCrazy with satisfaction. Poetry nights drew a large crowd, and all were book buyers. Every Friday night, she transformed the back of her store into a performance center. Moody, background music floated through the dim lit aisles. Overstuffed apple-green chairs and battered coffee tables were dragged from the storeroom and arranged in an informal circle. The crowd was a nice mix of intellectuals, some quite serious and others who just wanted an entertaining night out. She dragged the mic over to the small lifted platform, and checked her watch again. Five minutes to go. Where was Maggie?

She watched people settle into the chairs and mumble about coffee while discussing stanzas and imagery and the bleeding of emotion. On cue, the door opened to release a rush of brisk air, and Maggie stepped inside. “Java, anyone?”

Alexa raced over and grabbed two steaming cafe mochas. “Thank God. If I didn’t serve them caffeine they’d read to each other in the Starbucks down the street.”

Maggie set the cardboard tray down and lined up the cups. Her cinnamon-colored hair swung past her jawline when she shook her head. “Al, you’re nuts. You know how much money you spend on coffee just so these artists can read poetry in front of each other? Let them get their own coffee.”

“I need the business. Until I find a way to get a loan to expand the store, I need to keep them caffeinated.”

“Ask Nick. He’s technically your husband.”

She shot her friend a warning look. “No, I don’t want him involved. You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

Maggie threw her hands up. “What’s the big deal? Nick knows you’d pay off the loan.”

“I want to do this on my own. I took the initial payoff and that was the deal. No more. It’s not like this is a real marriage.”

“Did you give the money to your parents?”

Alexa smiled. “Almost made the company of your brother worth it.”

“I still don’t get it. Why not just tell Nick the truth about the money? He’s a pain in the ass but has a good heart. Why are you playing games, girlfriend?”

She turned away, afraid to confront her friend. She’d always been a sucky liar. How could she possibly tell Maggie she lusted after her brother, and needed every barrier imaginable to keep her distance? If he believed she was a cold-hearted money grabber, he might leave her alone.

Maggie studied her face for a long time. Her green eyes filled with shock as the light bulb suddenly flashed. “Is something else going on with you two? You’re not attracted to him, are you?”

Alexa forced a laugh. “I hate your brother.”

“You’re lying. I always know when you lie. You want to sleep with him, don’t you? Oh, yuck!”

Alexa snatched the last cup of coffee. “This conversation is over. I am not attracted to your brother, and he is not attracted to me.”

Maggie followed close on her heels. “Okay, now that I’m over the initial grossness of the idea, let’s talk about it. He’s your husband, right? You might as well be getting sex for the next year with
someone
.” Alexa walked to the platform. All eyes were now on her. The word sex definitely got people’s attention, she thought. She ignored her friend and made the initial introductions for poetry night.

As the first poet made his way on stage, she stepped aside and settled herself into her chair. She grabbed her notebook in case she needed to write down any nuggets of inspiration and cleared her mind for the reading.

Maggie knelt and whispered, “I think you should sleep with him.”

Alexa let out a long-suffering sigh. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m serious. I’ve now had a few minutes to think. It’s perfect. You both have to be faithful anyway, so you know he won’t be sleeping with someone else. This way you get the sex you need, and in a year, just say good-bye. No hard feelings. No complications.”

She squirmed. Not because she was embarrassed by Maggie’s suggestion. No, just the opposite. The possibility intrigued her. She lay awake at night, picturing him in the room down the hall. His naked, muscled body stretched out on the bed, waiting for her. Her hormones shook greedily at the image. Hell, at this rate she’d end up in the mental institution by the end of the year.

Cause: Celibacy.

Maggie snapped her fingers in front of her face and jolted Alexa out of her reverie. “You disappeared on me again. Is Nick coming tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, your brother would just love this kind of night out. He’d probably prefer a root canal and a prostate exam.”

“How are you two getting along? Besides the physical attraction.”

“Fine.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Lying again. You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Alexa realized she’d always confessed everything to Maggie except for one event. The first time Nick kissed her. She’d known she loved him back then. Friendship turned to rivalry and then to a girlish crush. That first kiss twisted emotions so pure within her she believed it was love. Her heart beat for him, full of joy at the possibility of them being together, so she uttered the words, her voice echoing through the trees.

“
I love you.
”

Then waited for him to kiss her again. Instead, he stepped back from her and laughed. Called her a silly baby and walked away.

She learned her first lesson in heartbreak in that moment. Fourteen years old. In the woods with Nicholas Ryan.

She wasn’t about to repeat the lesson.

She pushed the memory away and decided to keep her second secret from Maggie. “There’s nothing going on,” Alexa repeated. “Can I listen to the next poem in peace, please?”

“I don’t think peace is in the cards tonight, babe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nick’s here. Your husband. The guy you’re not attracted to.”

She swung her head around and stared in shock at the figure in the doorway. He was obviously out of his element, but his presence was so confident, so overwhelmingly male, she sucked in her breath and realized the man had the power to fit in anywhere. And he wasn’t even wearing black.

Most men who wore designer clothes allowed the fabric to dictate to them. Nick wore his Calvin Klein jeans as if he wore nothing at all. The denim hugged his thighs and hips as if folding to his will. He reflected a man who knew himself—and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought.

The turtleneck was a deep caramel cream in a thick cable knit stitch that emphasized his chest and stretched over broad shoulders. Definitely Ralph Lauren. The boots were Timberland. His hair picked up the color of the sweater, mixing with white blond and shades of mocha, carefully tousled. His jaw clenched with unconscious demand as he searched the darkened bookstore. But his eyes…

A swirl of chocolate brown the color of Hershey’s syrup. Hints of gold and amber that reminded her of aged whiskey. A combination that dripped of sinful sex and indulgent cravings. She waited as he perused the room, skated over her, stopped, then came slowly back.

Their eyes met.

Alexa hated clichés, and what she hated most was becoming one. But at that moment, her heartbeat thundered, her palms sweated, and her belly dipped and plunged as if on a rollercoaster ride. Her body went on full alert, begging him to come to her, promising him surrender. If he told her to go home, get in bed, and wait for him, Alexa was sure she’d follow his instructions.

The weakness of her will infuriated her. Her honesty made her admit she’d do it anyway.

“Oh yeah. Definitely no attraction there.” Maggie’s words broke the weird spell and allowed Alexa to gather her composure. She had issued the invitation to Nick for poetry night because he hadn’t seen her bookstore. He politely declined, citing work as an excuse, and she hadn’t been surprised. Once again, she had reminded herself they came from different worlds, and Nick had no desire to visit hers. As he walked toward her, she wondered why he had changed his mind.

…

Nick picked his way through the bookshelves. Some guy dressed in black spouted into a microphone about the correlation between flowers and death, and the scent of cafe mochas rose to his nostrils. Sounds of a flute and the faint calling of a wolf drifted to his ears. All of his impressions were secondary to the sight of his wife.

Ebony hair fell loose and wild past her shoulders. Her black-framed glasses actually enhanced the sky blue of her eyes, slightly widened with surprise as she watched him approach. Her sweater hugged every inch of those delectable breasts, then opened to a wide bell around her hips. A tight black miniskirt stopped mid-thigh. At second glance, Nick revised his opinion to a much shorter option, since the fabric had snuck way up in her comfortable sitting position and now barely covered her. Knee-high black leather boots completed the outfit. Those long Amazon legs were encased in black tights and Nick knew she wore nothing else underneath. The stores didn’t make a slip that short, he was almost positive.

Her true sexiness lay in her ignorance of her effect on men. Aggravation tickled his nerves. He lived in a constant state of emotional turmoil and he hated every moment. He was the calmest man around and dedicated his path to avoid messy feelings. Now, his normal day ranged from annoyance to frustration to anger. She made him crazy with her whacko arguments and impassioned speeches. She also made him laugh. His home seemed more alive since she moved in.

He reached her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He directed his attention to his sister. “Maggie May, how goes it?”

“Fine, brother dearest. What brings you? You’re not going to read that poem you wrote when you were eight, are you?”

Alexa tilted her head in interest. “What poem?”

He actually felt himself flush and realized the two women before him were the only ones who ever made him lose his composure. “Don’t listen to her.”

“I thought you had work,” Alexa said.

He did. And he didn’t know why he was here. He had left the office and entered an empty house and the silence bothered him. He’d thought of her surrounded by people in the bookstore she created and wanted to join her world for just a little while. He said nothing, though, and shrugged. “I wrapped up early. Thought I’d check out poetry night. Do all artists smoke? There’s a long line outside and they’re all puffing away.”

Maggie snickered and stretched both of her legs out on the floor. Her back was propped up against the side of the chair. Her green eyes held the teasing light of a younger sister who still enjoyed torturing her older brother. “Still having cravings, Nick? Bet I could bum one for you.”