His Ring Is Not Enough
Maisey Yates
After “I do…” Ajax Kouros had a plan. Being jilted at the altar? Not part of it—especially when facing a thousand guests and one hundred reporters. His company’s future depends on marrying an Holt, and when his bride’s sister steps up to the…altar, can he say no? Leah Holt grew up watching her beautiful socialite sister hang on Ajax’s arm. Now she has the chance to stand in the spotlight and save her family’s fortune. But saying “I do” is only the beginning, and Leah soon realizes that the man she married is far more complex and distracting than the boy of her childhood fantasies….
After “I do…”
Ajax Kouros had a plan. Being jilted at the altar? Not part of it—especially when facing a thousand guests and one hundred reporters. His company’s future depends on marrying an Holt, and when his bride’s sister steps up to the…altar, can he say no?
Leah Holt grew up watching her beautiful socialite sister hang on Ajax’s arm. Now she has the chance to stand in the spotlight and save her family’s fortune. But saying “I do” is only the beginning, and Leah soon realizes that the man she married is far more complex and distracting than the boy of her childhood fantasies….
“We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”
“We are newlyweds. Marriage is hard. First twelve hours is the hardest.” Leah continued typing away, not looking at him.
“So it seems. But we must attempt to make this look real.”
“It is real. As you pointed out, I signed a license, I took vows. It’s all real.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Love,” she said, looking up at him. “You want it to look like love. You want me to gaze at you in adoration so no one doubts my happiness or your penis size. I got it.”
His throat tightened, a strange kind of heat prickling his face. “You do not normally talk this way.”
“Maybe I do, Ajax, how would you know? We don’t know each other. I didn’t think you were as big of a jerk as you played it this morning—but, hey, I learned something new. And you think I’m a child, but you’re wrong about that too.”
MAISEY YATES was an avid Mills & Boon
Modern
Romance reader before she began to write them. She still can’t quite believe she’s lucky enough to get to create her very own sexy alpha heroes and feisty heroines. Seeing her name on one of those lovely covers is a dream come true.
Maisey lives with her handsome, wonderful, diaper-changing husband and three small children across the street from her extremely supportive parents and the home she grew up in, in the wilds of Southern Oregon, USA. She enjoys the contrast of living in a place where you might wake up to find a bear on your back porch and then heading into the home office to write stories that take place in exotic urban locales.
Recent titles by the same author:
THE COUPLE WHO FOOLED THE WORLD
HEIR TO A DARK INHERITANCE
(Secret Heirs of Powerful Men)
HEIR TO A DESERT LEGACY
(Secret Heirs of Powerful Men)
HER LITTLE WHITE LIE
Did you know these are also available as eBooks?
Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
His Ring Is Not Enough
Maisey Yates
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my support system of writers: Megan Crane, Michelle Willingham, Jackie Ashenden and Lisa Hendrix. Friends are so important, and I’m glad you’re mine.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE (#u96de4b0d-bbfe-5201-8bd8-201866bd3bb0)
CHAPTER TWO (#u7328f51a-d363-5fdb-947b-30c1bb885df2)
CHAPTER THREE (#u7cdeb582-a2f3-524d-9a13-fbcc6133bb92)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u269c6fc2-dcbe-5141-9d01-de956711355a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXCERPT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
“IT’S OFFICIALLY TIME to panic.” Leah Holt finished reading her sister’s text message and looked up at her father.
The expression on his face could only be described as shock, and Leah really couldn’t blame him. She felt the same way. Everyone was here. Everything was planned. The decorations were in place, the cake was made. The media had been alerted and was out in full force. The groom was present and ready.
And the bride was gone.
“Why is it time to panic?” her father, Joseph Holt, asked.
She took a slow breath. She found she didn’t want to tell her father. Didn’t want to expose Rachel to censure. Because as upsetting as the text was, Leah knew Rachel well enough to know she wouldn’t have done this without a very compelling reason. “She’s gone. She’s...she’s not coming.”
“Who is not coming?”
Leah looked up and her heart stopped. Ajax Kouros had chosen that precise moment to walk into the room, already dressed in a dark tuxedo, perfectly fitted to his masculine physique. He looked as untouchable as ever. A god more than a man.
Seeing him made her think of summer days at the estate. Of following him around and chatting his ear off. Her sister away at school, her father busy with work, her mother having tea with friends.
But Ajax had always been there to listen. Her sounding board. The one person she’d felt had understood her.
A lot of time had passed between then and now. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Not foolish enough to think that a man like Ajax could be interested in her, or what she had to say. And he wasn’t that boy, tanned from working shirtless in the sun.
He was a billionaire now. One of the world’s most successful businessmen.
And today was the day he was marrying her sister. And officially gaining control of Holt Industries, along with a hefty piece of her own business, since so many of her shares were owned by her father’s corporation.
At least, it was supposed to be the day he was marrying her sister and gaining control of Holt.
But Rachel was gone. Gone and not coming back, if her text was an indication. And it should be, since it said she was gone and not coming back.
It was so out of character for her bright, beautiful sister. The eternal hostess and darling of the media had never once set a toe out of line. She was always gorgeous and graceful, a walking photo-op.
So very unlike Leah, who was a walking photo-op for a whole different reason. And the press loved to play it up. Loved to highlight her every shortfall, her every imperfection.
Leah swallowed hard and met Ajax’s eyes. They were dark, hard. They always had been. Even when he’d been a boy, there had been no laughter there. No lightness. But the darkness was compelling to her, just as it had always been.
“Rachel isn’t coming,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, but deafening in the empty sitting room of her family estate.
“What do you mean she isn’t coming?” he asked, his voice soft, a vein of granite running through it.
“It’s just... She texted me. She... Here.” She handed the phone to Ajax, nearly dropping it when his fingers brushed hers. “It says she wants to be with Alex, whoever that is, and that she can’t marry you. Not now. She’s sorry.”
“I can read, Leah, but thank you.” He handed the phone back to her, and she curled her fingers around it, holding it down at her side. He looked to her father. “Did you know?”
Joseph shook his head. “Did I know what? That she was having second thoughts? Not at all. I never pressured her to do this, Ajax. You know I wouldn’t have. I was under the impression she was completely on board with this.”
Ajax nodded once, then looked at Leah. “Did you know?”
“No.” If she’d known, she would never have let things go this far. She would never have let Rachel leave Ajax like this, without warning. With the world watching.
“Alex who?” he asked, his tone sharp. “What other information is there?”
“I...” Leah scrolled back through her phone’s messages. The look on Ajax’s face was fierce, feral, like nothing she’d ever seen before. Usually he was so controlled, so unruffled. But now he was frightening. A different man entirely. “She doesn’t say.”
“Text her. Now.”
“Ajax, if she needs space...” Her father spoke tentatively.
“I’m not overly concerned about that,” Ajax bit out.
Leah texted as quickly as she could, her fingers shaking. Alex who? Anyone I know?
You don’t know him. Alex Christofides. Unexpected. And I’m sorry.
“Alex Christofides.”
Ajax and her father shared a look that said volumes. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, goose bumps rising on her skin as she realized the full implication of the name.
“Alexios,” Leah said slowly. “Alexios Christofides.”
“That would be the one,” Ajax said. “Not content with attempts to destroy my business, the bastard has to destroy my wedding, as well. And make a grab for Holt, I imagine.”
“Why, Ajax? Why does he have it in for you like this?”
A shadow passed over Ajax’s face. “I don’t know. Just business, I suppose.”
“But she... Does she know that? Does she know who he is?”
“She wouldn’t,” Ajax said. “This isn’t her world.”
No. But it was hers. She knew about Alexios Christofides and his attempts to bump Ajax’s retail and manufacturing conglomerate off the map, via covert stock purchases and reporting of illegal activities that hadn’t even existed, much less been provable. Alexios had been a headache for Ajax in an increasingly alarming way over the past five years.
“And you never mentioned him to her?”
“As I said,” he replied, teeth clenched, “it is not her world.”
Leah sent another text to Rachel, while her father and Ajax continued talking.
He’s an enemy of Ajax’s. Didn’t you know that? What if he’s using you?
It’s too late, L. Can’t marry Jax now. I need to be with Alex.
The day of your wedding?
I’m sorry. Trust me. There isn’t another way.
“If Rachel has chosen him,” her father broke in, “then she’s chosen him.”
“Even if he’s out to hurt Ajax? And what about the company? My business is rolled into this. I am going to get steamrolled by his heavy machinery tactics.”
“You’re making the assumption that he doesn’t care for Rachel. And that Rachel is a fool. I don’t believe that, Leah,” her father said.
No. Of course not. Rachel would never be so foolish. At least, that’s what everyone would think. Sparkling, poised Rachel, who did so well in every social situation, would never be seduced away from the man she was meant to marry through lies and deceit. She was too savvy.
Leah didn’t buy it. Her sister was wonderful. And as such had been coddled by the media. Rachel didn’t see the ugly things in life. And the idea that a man, Alexios, might be lying to her, using her, made Leah’s stomach churn.
“Sign it over to me,” Ajax said, his attention on Joseph. “Revise the agreement.”
“I would,” Joseph said. “But the company is something that was promised to my daughters. To the husband of the first to be married.”
“It was always meant to be me,” Ajax said. “You made the offer with me in mind.”
“Yes. Naturally, I assumed it would be you. But what can I do? I gave my word, and I would not have Rachel feel I was holding the company hostage to make her marry the man I wanted her to. And if this is her choice, it’s her right to have the company in this matter if she chooses. She knows the agreement, too.”
Leah knew the agreement, the promise, had only ever been intended for Ajax and Rachel. Joseph loved Ajax like the son he’d never had, and he and Rachel had seemed like a logical and clear match from moment one. As though Ajax was always meant to be a part of their family.
But now everything was falling apart. And Leah’s stores, her business, her entire life, were all wrapped up in the package that might now be delivered into the hands of Ajax’s enemy.
If Alex was making a grab for Holt, intent on wrapping his hand around it and crushing it for vengeance against Ajax, then he was going to crush Leah’s dreams along with it.
She wasn’t the media darling. She wasn’t the beautiful one. She wasn’t the one who attracted men. She had Leah’s Lollies. Her business was on the upswing, building and becoming a sort of trend. Candy from one of her stores was fast becoming one of the most popular gift items in the world. Tiffany Blue might be iconic, but Leah Pink was starting to gain momentum.
She wouldn’t lose it. She couldn’t. It was who she was.
“I need to talk to Ajax alone,” she said, before she could fully process her request. “Please,” she said to her father.
He nodded once. “If you must.” He looked at Ajax. “I am sorry, my son. But I cannot force her down the aisle. No matter that I wouldn’t have had her leave you today, I won’t force her. And if she has chosen Alex, no matter who he is to you, if she is intent on him, I won’t stop that, either.”
“I would never ask that of you,” Ajax said, his voice hard.
Her father turned and walked out of the room, and Leah fought the urge to follow him. To try to reason with him. It would be easier than dealing with Ajax. But her father wouldn’t bend on this. He had given his word, and in Joseph Holt’s world, one where men had honor, one where men didn’t stoop so low as to use a woman as part of a business firefight, your word was all that was needed.
But that wasn’t the real world. She knew it. Ajax knew it.
Ajax pushed his hand through his hair and looked out the window again. “The question is, what is to be done? There is an agreement, drawn up and ready to sign. There is a wedding planned. There are a thousand guests coming in only three hours. The media will be there. This has been hailed as the wedding of the century. So the question is—” he turned to face Leah “—what is to be done?” His control was fraying slightly, an edge to his voice that Leah wasn’t accustomed to.
She looked at his face, at the hard lines around his mouth. At the worry in his eyes. Ajax Kouros, worried. And the answer hit her. So clear, so simple. This was how things worked in business, and what they were dealing with was a business-related problem. A contract that needed signing.
Or to be specific, two contracts that needed signing.
“What was the extent of your deal? What did the contract say?”
“Ownership of Holt was to pass to me upon signing the wedding agreement, contingent on the fact that the marriage last for five years. Otherwise, ownership returns to your father.”
“And the names on the document?”
“No names. Interchangeable. That’s the issue.”
“Five-year minimum?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do it,” Leah said.
The words hung in the room, too loud in the emptiness.
For one fleeting moment she felt exposed. Awkward. No. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She was stronger than that. She’d learned. Never expose yourself. Never let them see you cry.
“You will do what?” Ajax asked, dark eyes now trained on her.
“I...” Insecurity rose up and grabbed her by the throat, choking her. Past Leah, the Leah who had idolized Ajax. The girl who had made a fool of herself chasing after his attention, his affection. The idiotic teenager who had nearly declared herself just before he’d declared his love for Rachel.
It’s for Leah’s Lollies. It has nothing to do with those feelings. It’s for Holt.
She wasn’t a slave to those old feelings anymore. Sure, she’d dreamed of Ajax when she was a girl, but then, like everyone else, he’d chosen Rachel. And she’d learned never to expose herself like that again. Had learned how to cover up pain under a layer of armor. Because the alternative was to show it to the world, and damn your pride.
Well, she was quite fond of her pride.
“I’ll marry you. And then the guests and the companies, yours, mine and Holt, and all of that will be fine. And no matter what, no matter if Rachel marries Christofides next month or...tomorrow, it won’t be him that gets his hands on Holt. It will be okay. All of it.”
He laughed, humorless, dark. “It will all be fine, will it? Perfection. Just a slight hiccup.”
“I’m well aware this is more than a hiccup. But it’s better than nothing, right?”
Ajax was not an expressive man. He’d been good to her sister, but not overly affectionate. She’d wondered more than once exactly what sort of relationship they had. If it was more convenience than passion. But just then, she had to acknowledge that Ajax looked very much like a man who’d lost the love of his life.
Ajax put his fingers through his hair again, the look in his eyes so different to what she was used to. Lost. It reminded her of a younger version of him. Of the boy he’d been before coming to the Holt Estate. A boy she’d never known.
She still remembered the moment she’d met him, when they’d come to the estate for the summer. It was like the world had fallen away. Like she’d fallen away.
She’d been so young, but there had been something about him that had pulled her to him. He’d, in an instant, been so many things to her. And he’d listened. He’d made her feel important. Special. And she’d clung to him, followed him around like a lost puppy. Obvious. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl with embarrassment.
He looked at her, that lost look in his eyes fading as suddenly as it had appeared. Now his gaze was unreadable, unexpressive. Like he was looking over a new yacht, or sports car. Well, no, not even that. He got a bit more passionate over sports cars. And dark chocolate. That was one thing they had in common. Or at least something they’d had in common.
Handy, because she was short on sports cars, but she did have a lot of dark chocolate. Occupational hazard. Although, she’d stopped trying to tempt him with treats a while ago. About the time she’d realized she was staring at him like an idiot and he only had eyes for her sister.
“You will have to do.”
The way he said it made her want to melt into a puddle and slither out of the room. She was being compared to Rachel, again, and being found utterly lacking. “Thanks. And you’re welcome.”
“Don’t expect me to be happy about any of this.” He started to pace. “My bride has walked out on me. Chosen my rival over me. And she didn’t even have the courtesy to text me about it. Rather she contacted you.”
“I’m her sister.”
“And I’m the man she was supposed to love,” he bit out.
She put her hand on his arm, a flash of heat racing from her fingertips and through her body. She pulled back as though she’d been burned.
She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected to feel that intense, scorching heat. After all, she’d stopped carrying a torch for Ajax years ago. Though, that didn’t change the fact that he was an incredibly handsome man. The heat was only due to a physical attraction. She was only human. She imagined any woman who touched him would feel the same way.
Thank God she knew how to hide that moment of insanity. She’d spent years cultivating her mask, one that kept the press at a distance. One that kept her from getting hurt. One of indifference. A smooth, cutting smile on hand whenever she needed it. One that said: Oh, you again. Can’t be bothered.
Oh, dear Lord. I proposed to him.
That thought made her smile slip.
But it wasn’t as if she’d done it for herself. Not for herself personally, anyway. Everything was on the line. The future of Holt, of Leah’s Lollies, and Ajax’s dreams and hard work. And that mattered to her. She wasn’t in love with him anymore, hadn’t been for years. But she cared. About Holt. About her own business.
“Why, Leah? What are you getting out of this?”
“Well, jeez, Ajax, Rachel has clearly lost her mind. She’s run off with this man that you and I both know is probably not with her by coincidence. A man who would do this just to hurt you. He would, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes,” he said.
“My father loves Rachel, but he’s frankly blind to her faults.”
“Does she have them?” Ajax asked dryly.
“She’s far too trusting, I think, which you and I know full well is a fault. Alexios would take advantage of that to get to you and to get his hands on Holt to keep you from expanding your business. He’ll hurt her. And I can’t allow that. I doubt you can, either.”
“Of course not.”
“So then it’s settled. We have to marry before she does. You can still graft yourself into my family tree, which we both know you want. Otherwise we both lose Holt. You especially lose. You lose Rachel, and Holt, to Christofides.”
“I didn’t know Holt mattered to you so much, Leah.”
“In terms of it being my family legacy, it does. I can’t just let it pass into some stranger’s control. But more than legacy, my father owns half the stock in my business, and it’s all rolled into the Holt corporate umbrella. Suddenly a stranger has control over me and my business.”
“And if Rachel wants Holt?”
“She doesn’t. It doesn’t mean to her what it means to you and me—you know that. She was going to be your right hand socially, but I doubt she ever spent a day in those offices of her own free will.”
“True enough. But I didn’t require that of her. A hostess, someone to give me a softer face—that I needed.”
She looked at the granite lines etched by his mouth, his eyes. Yes, he most certainly did need a hostess.
She took a breath, putting her hard, practiced expression in place. “Well, that’s not happening now. And do you want some other man to have your wife and your business?”
Ajax took a step toward her, dark eyes trained on hers, and she felt something inside her melt.
“Other than Holt, Leah, what do you want?”
“To preserve Leah’s Lollies. Holt owns a quarter of my stock. And in addition to my candy stores being linked to Holt, I am a Holt. It’s my legacy. It’s ours, not just yours.”
“It was meant to be mine and Rachel’s.”
“I know.”
“And you trust me with your stocks, do you? Alexios is quite the financial genius—perhaps he would serve you better than I would. Rachel seems to think so.”
“You’ll do right by me and my shops, Ajax. I have no doubt.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll sell my stocks off. You think they’ll be profitable enough for me?”
“Of course I do. I sell things that are expensive and bad for you. I think I’ll be in business forever.”
He arched a dark brow, something in his expression changing. “A sure success, then. There is very little some people love more than indulging a vice.”
“Yes. Well, and if I may, allow me to continue my argument for marriage.”
“Please,” he said, no emotions on display.
“You’re right. Everything is in place. Everything. You taking the reins at Holt. The guests. The minister. The cake. There’s... I donated a lot of candy. A gift.”
“Nice of you.”
“Well, now I’m donating a bride. Which might be a bit more than nice.”
“If I accept.”
“Oh.”
Ajax looked at Leah, the woman who, up until ten minutes ago, had been about to become his sister-in-law. Now she was talking about being his wife. Leah. He scarcely thought of her as a woman. In his mind, she was still a round sixteen-year-old girl with curly hair, braces and a sweet tooth.
He could remember, very clearly, having a piece of candy waiting for him with his gardening tools every day when he’d first started working at the Holt Estate. And what had started as a childish game had continued as a tradition. When he’d started interning at the corporate headquarters in New York there had been a piece of candy on his desk. And when he’d branched off on his own, an entire bouquet, and yes, it could only be described as a bouquet, of chocolate had been waiting in his office.
Yes, whenever one of her little gifts showed up, he pictured Leah, the girl. Sweet, uncomplicated Leah, who looked at him and saw someone worth smiling at. But that vision didn’t match the reality standing in front of him.
Now she was a woman, he supposed. She was twenty-three. Some of her roundness had melted away, but not all. Her hair was still a mass of dark curls, albeit sleeker than when she’d been a teenager. And there was a hardness to her that had never been there before.
Still, she was nothing like Rachel. Beautiful, willowy Rachel.
Rachel, the woman he’d set his sights on so many years ago. The woman he’d spent so many years planning to marry. She had been standing there, at the end of his path, his goal, for so long that having her removed left him feeling lost. Aimless.
She was the only woman he’d ever loved.
And she had left him. Along with her, she would take Holt, and every piece of the plan, of his life would be broken off in chunks and scattered around his feet.
If he let it happen. If he didn’t accept Leah’s offer.
It was a bad day for his pride. That he needed help saving a deal he’d spent years working toward because his bride had decided to skip the wedding, burned. She’d left him to be with someone else. His biggest business rival.
This wedding, their union, made it feel like pieces were finally fitting together. Like the pieces of his life had united into one smooth picture, the end of the plan in sight.
Everything he wanted. Everything he’d worked for, in his grasp at last. His reward for rigid control, for never deviating from the path since he’d first put his foot down on it.
But Rachel hadn’t seen things that way. Obviously.
He supposed, if he thought about it, it made sense. Rachel was passionate. About life, about everything. But she’d never been passionate with him. And she’d never been bothered by his reserve with her. He’d imagined she was responding to the way he was naturally. Now he wondered.
Still, pride wouldn’t see his plans come to fruition. They wouldn’t bring Rachel back, either. Refusing Leah was of no benefit to him. It simply wasn’t logical.
However, he had a hard time thinking of her as a wife. As the sort of woman he would share his life with, take to events, take to bed.
Leah was not the woman he’d imagined himself with. Not ever.
“Well, come on, Ajax, don’t keep a girl waiting like this,” she said, a small smile curving up the edge of her lips. As though she were unruffled. As though all of this was just an interesting diversion. He wondered when she’d become so calculating. When she’d traded in that sweetness for the hard, cutting edge of a businesswoman.
“I accept.” There was no logical reason not to. And above anything else, he was a man of logic. Emotion could never be allowed to rule. “I will make a call and have the seamstress come and fit Rachel’s dress to you.”
Leah’s cheeks turned pink, although her expression remained stone cold. “Could you cut a foot off the hem and add the fabric around the middle?”
She was exaggerating and yet, she had a point. Rachel was long and angular, while the top of Leah’s head came just below his shoulder. It could not be ignored; she was certainly a larger size than her sister. Though she wasn’t proportioned unattractively. Round in the appropriate places. He’d just never given it much thought.
“What size, then? I will order you a new one.”
“I’ll make a call,” she said, her cheeks still pink. “It will have to be off-the-rack, of course. We only have two hours, but it’s doable. All things considered, the fit of my dress will be the least scandalous thing about this wedding.”
“You are still a Holt heiress,” he said.
“Yes, we’re practically interchangeable. Except, clearly, for the dress size.”
“That is not what I meant. You are not interchangeable.” He gritted his teeth. “You are not Rachel.” Rachel, who, in his mind, was the embodiment of his perfect life. He’d imagined that when he reached this day, when he reached her, standing at the head of the aisle, his struggle, his fight to stay on the path, to stay in control, would be over. That he would finally have reached a destination instead of walking endlessly.
He’d never touched her, not beyond a casual kiss, but things between them had been understood, for the past six years. They hadn’t spent all of their time together, hadn’t acted as a couple. Rachel hadn’t wanted to feel tied down. She’d wanted to live her life. But he’d been confident that in the end she would come back to him.
He had been wrong. And he hated being wrong.
“I’m sorry about that. Not that I’m not her, but that she left. I am.”
“Of course you are. Now you’re stuck with me.”
She looked up at him, whiskey-colored eyes glittering. He didn’t know why she looked like she was about to cry. Because of the situation? Though she had been part of creating it, it wasn’t like he had asked for her to stand in. Or because of his comments? Either way, he didn’t like it.
Joseph Holt had become a mentor to him when he’d been a teenager, and his family had, in many ways, become his family. He would never do anything to hurt the Holt family. Ever.
“It is not too late to back out, Leah. I will not hold you to a rash statement made in the heat of an emotional moment.”
“It is all very emotional.”
“I meant for you.”
She blinked. “For you, as well. Do you feel nothing?”
“I feel—of course I do. But I do not make decisions based on emotion, which is why I’m prepared to marry you instead of Rachel. It’s logical.” It kept his plan going until he could shift things. Until he could get everything re-sorted in his mind. Planning kept him on point, in control, and control was everything.
He knew what happened when control was lost. Knew what happened when a man lived for feeling.
“Yes. Well, while the situation overall might be emotional, I didn’t offer out of a sense of emotion.”
“Holt is mine. By right. By promise. I’m not family by blood, but your father trained me for this.”
“I know. And I’ve worked too hard to elevate Leah’s Lollies to this position to see it mowed down in a firefight.”
He looked at Leah and wondered if he’d underestimated her. He knew she had a business mind, whereas Rachel most certainly put the social in socialite and had used the money her father had given her to become a silent partner in a few ventures that helped expand her web of personal connections.
It was one of the reasons Rachel had been such a valuable prospect for a wife. She did what he did not. She connected with people, made friends easily, and used charisma to make happen what she wanted to see done.
She was, in essence, the perfect accessory to his life. Leah on the other hand, was more focused on the business end. She would possibly want a hand in the decision making at Holt, which would be her right, since ownership was to be shared between him and his wife.
But then, he would get a stake in Leah’s Lollies, which, in spite of his line of questioning, he knew was quite successful. And with his assets? Mass production of her products was entirely possible.
In terms of how he would benefit, there was the chance it could be very profitable for him. As for Leah...it could be extremely profitable for her.
“What else do you know, Leah?” he asked.
“A lot. I see things. I know how much this means to you. I know you didn’t spend years working under my father to not end up as head of Holt.”
It was true. Joseph Holt had become his mentor when he’d been a sixteen-year-old boy with little schooling and no money, working on the grounds of the opulent Holt Estate in Rhodes. He’d only just left his father’s mansion, fled the island he’d grown up on, which was filled with so much corruption not even the police could help him. He’d been rooming with other teenagers who’d been disowned by their families, for varying reasons. Working. Paying rent. And he’d protected them all, because he’d known about the evil that was out there waiting.
They’d lived and worked like that until better jobs had taken them better places.
For Ajax, that better place had been provided by Joseph Holt. Every summer and winter, the Holts came and stayed on the estate. Unlike other wealthy families he’d worked for, they’d been kind, friendly with their staff. Especially Joseph Holt, who had taken the time to speak with everyone, get to know everyone.
And he’d taken a special interest in Ajax. Had, in many ways, become the father he’d never had. But more than that, he’d taught him an interest in business. Had sent him to college. Had, like he’d done for his daughters, given him money as venture capital. Ajax had spent three years working at Holt in the United States, and after that, he’d gone on to get his own business off the ground, dealing in retail stores, rather than manufacturing.
Ajax had made his success thanks to Joseph, knowing all the while that in the end, Holt would be a part of his stable of assets. As would Rachel.
He had lost one of those things today; he would not lose the other.
“You do see a lot, Leah. And I think you have inherited your father’s ability to spot a good business deal. And his inability to pass it up.”
She lifted her chin, dark hair shimmering in the light, the glossy curls sliding from her shoulders to tumble down her back. “I am a Holt, Ajax.”
“As is Rachel.”
“I am not my sister. Not even close. That you will have to remember.”
He looked her over. Still, he couldn’t help but see that image of a young teenager, sitting in her father’s office with a book on her lap, her hair, not glossy or gently curled, but frizzy and barely contained by a rubber band. Or her following him around the estate, chatting his ear off about a new idea she had for a business, asking him if he thought it might work.
If you put your mind to it, Leah, it will work.
That was what he’d always told her. He hadn’t realized how true it was. Just how dangerous she could be when she set her mind on something.
“I am in no danger of forgetting.”
“I’ll need...” She cleared her throat. “Well, that is, I have to get ready now.”
CHAPTER TWO
LEAH’S HANDS SHOOK as she picked up the bouquet, the one that was meant to have been her sister’s. Thank God she never could have in a million years worn her sister’s dress or shoes.
And this was the first time ever she’d been glad she couldn’t have. She didn’t want her sister’s flowers, groom, dress and shoes.
As it was, the dress and shoes were Leah’s. The flowers and groom...they weren’t.
Her stomach cramped painfully and she looked in the mirror. Her eyes looked overly large for her face, and as frightened as she felt. She didn’t have her mask up. Because she was very suddenly confronted with the reality of what she was doing.
On paper, in the moment, it had been very black-and-white. Alexios couldn’t be allowed to succeed in gaining access to Holt. If he was using Rachel, it couldn’t be a reward.
But here, standing in a wedding dress? It was feeling more real. More insane.
She reached down and took a tissue off the vanity and pressed her lips to it, leaving a crimson stain behind. She stared at it for a moment. Would her lips leave red marks on Ajax’s?
And it hit her with the force of a wrecking ball. She was going to kiss him. Today. She sank down onto the chair that was positioned in front of the mirror. She was actually marrying him. A legal marriage.
Worse, and more worrisome, since it was in her immediate future, she was about to expose herself to the press, and their ridicule, again. Her least favorite thing ever.
This wedding was huge. A major event. Rachel was so popular, a style icon for the masses and a favorite on the cover of magazines worldwide. And Ajax...he exuded dark sex appeal and mystery, plus there was the whole billionaire thing. That made this wedding, their wedding, a very big deal.
And she just didn’t match up to the fanfare.
She stood up and tried not to topple over as she looked in the mirror. She put her hands over her breasts, barely contained by the bodice of the strapless gown. Not her first choice, but it had been an emergency, and that meant she’d had to take the smaller size, and she’d had to take the one that showed a bit too much of her curves. Which were abundant. And she wasn’t big on putting them on display.
So, yay, of course now she’d be doing it in front of an audience of a thousand. Plus photographers. As a replacement bride for the lovely Rachel, who the media showed such favor. Who men, all through their lives, had shown such favor.
It reminded her of the time she’d gone to an event in a dress Rachel had worn earlier in the year. So there Leah was, having the sort of fashion misstep sixteen-year-olds often did, but in front of the world. Her less-svelte figure was too much on display thanks to the dress being too small, and the color washed her out. It had been put in a fashion magazine under a Who Wore it Better? heading. And Leah had been savaged in both the article and online.
Borrowing clothes from her sister’s closet was a lot more fraught for her than it was for other teenagers.
She remembered so clearly sitting down and crying in her father’s office when she’d seen it, and Ajax coming in. He’d been visiting, taking time out from his own corporate empire that was making a serious statement in the business landscape. But he’d always made time for them. He’d always felt like a part of the Holt family.
“I’m so humiliated, Ajax!” she’d wailed. “How will I ever live this down?”
Ajax had looked at her, dark eyes impassive. “If you don’t want to be compared to your sister, stop putting yourself in the position. You’re different. You will never be her, so stop trying.” He’d knelt in front of her then. “And you must never let them see you cry. Never give them anything they can use against you. An unbreakable target is not a satisfying one.”
He was right, then and now. She wasn’t Rachel. Not even close. And so she’d made an effort to look as different as possible from her sister. And she’d never let them see her cry.
Leah had become the snarky one, the one with the acerbic wit, the businesswoman who didn’t care what the press said and didn’t waste time trying to court them.
She’d become her own person. Her own very guarded person.
Unless she was with Ajax. With him, she’d felt free to show herself. She’d poured her heart out to him. Hours spent tailing him at the estate replaced with spending time in his office after school.
And she’d left him treats. Ajax wasn’t demonstrative, but she always saw the candy wrappers in the trash bin the next morning. And it always earned her a smile. A small one, but from Ajax, it had been gold.
And with those small smiles a girlish crush had turned into love. She’d been so close to telling him, too. One night when there were few people left in the Holt building and they’d been alone in his office. But she’d lost her nerve.
And by the end of the week, he’d announced that he intended to marry Rachel.
Never let them see you cry.
His words had played over and over in her mind that day, as her dreams, her fantasies, had been crushed like a rose in an iron fist. She hadn’t gone to his office after that. She hadn’t left any candy on his desk again.
She hadn’t shown a crack in her facade since.
But no matter how she played it, she still didn’t like what the press wrote about her, and she knew this would be no exception.
Round-ish Candy Tycoon to Wed Man Way Out of Her League in Desperate Last-Minute Substitution at Wedding!
There was a headline she could live without.
But it was likely unavoidable. All right, it wouldn’t say round-ish, but still. There would be an implication. Especially since she owned candy stores. They loved that about her. That she’d grown up to sell candy. It made for such delightful headlines, filled with the suggestion that she overindulged in her own product.
And she would be standing there, next to Ajax, who was physical perfection. She was sure she would look like a little marshmallow in comparison. A little marshmallow with cleavage.
“Leah.” Her father walked into the room, and Leah whirled around toward the sound of his voice. He looked as shell-shocked as she felt. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Leah nodded slowly. “Yes.”
She felt dizzy, light-headed.
You know what this is. You signed the agreement. There will be an end date on this marriage. He’ll probably never even touch you.
But fantasy and reality were having a head-on collision and it was hard to remember how she was supposed to feel. Who she was supposed to be. It was hard to keep her mask in place while the world shook beneath her feet.
“I want to do this,” she said, her voice hushed.
The expression on her father’s face changed, as if he was seeing deep inside her. “I see.” He extended his arm. “Then let’s go. I confess, I was not ready for you to be married yet.”
She wanted to shout that he didn’t see. Because there was nothing to see. Instead, she cleared her throat. “I’m twenty-three.”
“But still. With Rachel I knew it was coming. I was much more ready for her to marry. And I knew...I knew Ajax’s intentions for a long time. The moment his feelings toward Rachel changed, he told me.”
“Six years,” Leah said, knowing the exact moment, the exact hour. Because the memory was still so raw, no matter that it shouldn’t be.
“She wanted to live more first. She was only twenty-two when he fell in love with her. And you don’t want to live?”
“I can still live with a husband,” she said. “I’ll be married, not dead.” And probably not married for that long. Or in truth.
“That’s true. But you are still my baby.”
She breathed in deep, fighting against the tight ache in her throat. “Dad, I haven’t lived at home in years.”
“I know.”
“And Ajax is like a son to you.”
Her father stopped walking and looked at her. “And if he hurts you, I will personally see him undone.”
She blinked. “He won’t.” She would make sure he wouldn’t. Her armor was solid; it wouldn’t break now. In spite of her moment of flailing insecurity back in the dressing room, she would make sure her armor held.
Anyway, Ajax didn’t have a foothold in her life anymore. Not in her emotions at least. She might still find him physically attractive, but she wasn’t hopeless over him anymore.
They stopped talking then, because they were in the foyer, and just beyond that was the courtyard, where everything had been prepared for the wedding. Rachel’s wedding. None of it was to her taste. Leah was more whimsical, her sister a sophisticate. Everything was white at Rachel’s wedding.
Too damn bad she hadn’t shown up.
Leah swallowed hard as the doors opened and the sunlight poured in, painting her in white, too. The only color was the sea beyond the stone-covered courtyard, a blue jewel against the sun-washed sky.
She started descending the steps, and the guests stood, a gasp and ripple of whispers rustling through the crowd, audible even over the string quartet that was playing. She knew what they were saying. They were wondering why. Why her?
Why not the beautiful sister? Surely, everyone would know Rachel had left. Because there was no way Ajax would have preferred her. And everyone would know that.
She’d always imagined she would marry here. In Rhodes. But it hadn’t looked like this in her mind.
She raised her eyes and saw Ajax, standing at the head of the aisle, and her heart just about burst through her chest, nerves, remnants of old dreams converging on her, making it hard to breathe. Ajax had always been in her fantasies. Always. Of course, in her fantasies of old as she drew nearer to him on her trip down the aisle, he had smiled. He hadn’t looked at her like she was judge, jury and executioner come to hand him a terrible sentence.
But that’s how he looked now. Grim. Like a man at the gallows, not the altar.
She tightened her hold on her father’s arm and continued down the aisle, looking anywhere but at Ajax. What was she doing? She couldn’t back out. She was halfway down the aisle, the man had already been jilted once today. And as they drew closer, the ache in her heart intensified, a swollen mass of emotion growing in her, choking her.
And logic couldn’t talk her out of it. Her mind telling her that she shouldn’t feel anything for him, did nothing to stop it.
Where was her armor? How had this sneaked beneath it?
They stopped at the head of the aisle, and Leah just about stopped breathing.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” The pastor’s voice was thin, distant. Like he was underwater.
“I do.”
Her father sounded the same way, so maybe it was just her.
And then he kissed her cheek and she was moving toward Ajax. He extended his hand, and she took it. He had never held her hand before. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t think he’d ever touched her skin.
Heat assaulted her, starting at her cheeks, spreading to her ears. Oh, good. Now she was blushing. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she get a grip?
Why did this feel so real?
It’s not real. It’s just business. It’s for Leah’s Lollies. It’s for Holt. It’s not for you.
He took her other hand, too, turned her to face him. Terror streaked through her, and on its heels, an emotion so big, so real, she couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t push it down. It grew, it bloomed in her, alive, strong.
In that moment, reality melted away, and fantasy won out.
Surely this was only a fantasy. With her in a wedding gown and Ajax, looking like perfection in a tux, how could it be anything else? It couldn’t be real. This was a dream, the dream she used to have when she was a teenager. It wasn’t real.
He said his vows, his voice steady. Strong, without emotion, but then, that was how he was. She spoke hers without stumbling, and there was this strange, underlying conviction that each word was the truth. That there would be no one but him, forever.
There never had been, not for her. It was Ajax. Always.
She could feel the walls inside of her start to quake. Start to crumble. All of that supposed hard edge she’d cultivated. All of her defense.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Leah’s heart stopped, and for a moment, so did the world. Her focus dropped to Ajax’s lips. How many times had she thought about kissing those lips?
It was her last thought before he wrapped his arm around her waist and dipped his head, his mouth covering hers.
She hadn’t been prepared. Not for the heat, the flash of pure fire that raced along her veins. She found herself lifting her arms, curling her fingers around the lapels of his suit jacket.
She’d expected something chaste, something appropriate for a thousand pairs of eyes, for two people who had barely ever touched, but that wasn’t what she got. What she got was a real, full-on kiss.
He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened eagerly, tasting him as he tasted her. She felt as if she was falling, but Ajax was there to hold her up, his arm a strong band around her waist, her fingers curled into his jacket like claws.
She’d never been kissed like this. Not ever. And she’d never felt like this, either. Like she would die if he stopped touching her, like her skin was on fire. Her breasts ached, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. And the ache, low and strong between her thighs. An ache she knew only he could satisfy.
And all of her expectations about the marriage were blown apart. And all she had were questions. Well, questions, a thundering heartbeat and the feeling of being horribly, hideously exposed.
And then, suddenly, he pulled away and she nearly lost her balance. The guests were clapping, and the pastor was making his pronouncement, but she couldn’t pay attention. Her head was swimming, her legs shaking.
“Smile,” Ajax whispered in her ear, and it kick-started her brain again.
Never let them see you cry.
So she did smile, a bright, false smile she didn’t feel, and he led her down the aisle as the band played.
They went back up the stairs. Into the house.
The doors closed behind them, and Ajax started loosening his tie.
“Don’t we need... Should we... The photographer.”
“Do you honestly think I want pictures?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I...I had thought... It’s our... We paid for the photographer.”
“I’m sure the press in attendance got enough. I am not interested in posing for photos. What I would like is alcohol.”
“You don’t drink.”
“Not usually.”
Never. She’d never seen him drink. That wasn’t the best for her ego. That marrying her was driving him to drink.
“What about the reception?”
“I am far too eager to take you back to my villa and consummate the marriage,” he said, his tone dry as sand. “We’ll have to skip it.”
“Wh...what?”
“We’re leaving. Now.” She didn’t want to leave now. Not while she felt so...shaken.
But they were.
He took her hand again, and they went out the other direction, out the front doors, where there was a limo idling. He opened the back door for her and she got in. He gathered up the skirt of her dress and put it in behind her before getting in and closing the door.
He looked out the window and she followed his gaze to the photographer standing on the step. “Let’s give him a picture,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.
“The windows are tinted.”
“He’ll work around that. It’s his job to get the shot after all.”
He hauled her to his body, her breasts, precariously close to making an exit from the bodice of her dress, pressed against his hard chest. And then, for the second time in the space of five minutes, she was being kissed by Ajax Kouros.
After consigning Ajax to the “fantasies that were never going to happen” bin, two kisses in such short succession were shocking.
His tongue delved deep, tasting her, sending a shock wave through her, straight to her core. And again, she found herself responding, helplessly, intensely. She speared her fingers through his hair, held on to him for all she was worth.
She couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel this. Couldn’t pretend that the touch of his lips against hers didn’t light a fire in her body. Couldn’t pretend that no matter what her emotions were doing, no matter how she’d shut them down, she’d never wanted a man the way she wanted Ajax.
He removed his lips from hers and pressed a kiss to her neck, down lower, lower...oh...yes.
Then he lifted his head. “Drive,” he said, the order clearly meant for his driver and not for her. He kissed her neck again, his tongue tracing a circle over her skin before the limo exited the driveway of her family’s estate and went out onto the main winding road that led back down to the highway.
Then, he moved away from her, all of the heat from the earlier moment completely gone. As if cold water had been thrown on a flame.
“What was...all that?”
“I was not in the mood to deal with questioning—were you?”
“I... No, I suppose not.”
“We’ll need to get a story together, one that matches, before we talk to the press.”
“Right, okay, I see the merit in that.” Her lips felt swollen and hot, and she felt dizzy. What had just happened to her? She looked down at her hand, where he’d placed a ring only moments before, and she wondered if she was involved in some kind of weird dream.
“There will have to be an explanation for why it was you and not Rachel who walked down the aisle today.”
“And the truth won’t work? That she realized she loved someone else?”
The expression in his eyes could only be described as fierce. “No, it does not. Would it be so simple for you?”
“I suppose not. But please let’s come up with an answer that doesn’t completely burn my pride. I’ve had enough of that in the media.”
“We both have issues of pride, it seems. I do not intend to hurt you, Leah, but none of this was part of my plan.”
“Clearly.”
“I imagine it wasn’t a part of yours, either.”
“Well, this morning I was getting ready for my sister’s wedding, and it turned out to be my wedding. And now I’m married and sitting in a limo on my way to...I don’t even know where. Maybe you told me, but I forgot because that’s just the kind of day it’s been.”
“My home. We weren’t planning on going on a honeymoon until things had started settling at Holt.”
“Are you going to New York?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But I will be working from my office here on getting things in order. Your father has left everything in magnificent working order, and the transition has been well under way for a while, but even so...”
“Business first. I don’t have anything to wear,” she said. “I have this dress. I don’t have...panties.” The words sort of slipped out, horrifying her as they did. She didn’t feel savvy, or self-contained, or well-protected. She felt dazed. “I don’t have deodorant. My suitcase is back at the house.”
“I will have all new clothes sent over if you like. And your things from New York.”
“My things from... What?”
“You’ll be living here with me. We will of course travel to New York, but we’ll stay in my penthouse there, not in your apartment or flat or whatever it is you have.”
“It’s a very nice apartment.”
“We will live together. We are husband and wife after all.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. We are.”
“You sound shocked.”
“Are you not?”
He looked her over, dark eyes assessing. “I am a hard man to shock, Leah, but all things considered, I am a bit.”
He was so dry, so condescending. It wasn’t fair that he was so in control. That his mask never slipped. Because she was confused and a little freaked and kind of in internal upheaval and he just...wasn’t.
He was all cold and calm and stare-y.
Blessed reality was starting to trickle in. Cold. Unflinching. It provided a harsh portrait of her slipups over the past few minutes. Over how stupid she’d let a couple of kisses make her when she knew better than to let that happen. Or, she at least knew better than to let anyone see it. She knew better than to reveal anything.
“You really want me to live with you?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, then thought better of it when she realized just how effectively that hoisted them up.
“Need is the better word,” he said. “I will not risk this appearing to be anything but real.” He put his elbow on the armrest of the car and put his hand on his forehead. The first sign of him truly not being all that okay.
They were silent for the rest of the ride to the house. And while they climbed the mountain, anger built inside her. Blessed anger that helped her armor feel fortified.
The limo wound its way up the mountain that would carry them to Ajax’s home. She realized she hadn’t been there. He came over to the family’s estate for parties in Rhodes, and he visited her family’s penthouse in New York, but she’d never visited him here, not after he’d got a home.
She’d never seen where he’d lived as a teenager working on the estate, either, but she’d been a child then so it wasn’t all that surprising.
Double gates came into view, then they parted as the limo approached. And beyond them was a sleek, modern home with windows that opened it all up to views that surrounded it. Mountains behind, the ocean, glimmering bright in front. Bright pink flowers climbed the walls, the only nod to a traditional Greek villa.
The rest was all new. Clean lines and exceptionally expensive construction.
“I’ve never been here before,” she said.
“Have you not?” A strange look passed over his face.
“No. I haven’t. You’ve never invited me. Well, it’s not like we really hang out.” Anymore. “We just happen to make a wide circle around each other at many of the same gatherings, and kind of, pass close enough two or three times in an evening to say ‘lovely to see you, how about this shrimp cocktail? Delightful? Yes, delightful!’ But no, we don’t hang out.”
Not by accident. After her big Ajax-induced heartbreak she’d needed to push him away. Needed to give herself some time to erect stronger barriers.
“And I don’t have parties,” he said, his voice comically serious.
“So, that mystery’s solved. That’s why I’ve never been here.”
The car stopped and she scrambled out of it, not willing to wait for Ajax or his driver to open the door. The further away the wedding got, the weirder she felt in her dress. The edgier she felt in general.
Every time he’d kissed her, the fog of fantasy had closed in around them and it had seemed a dream. Now, standing in front of his glass-and-steel house, the sun’s harsh light bathing her skin in heat, the breeze coming up from the sea blowing the skirt of her wedding dress around her ankles, it all felt much too real.
“Can we go inside?” she asked. “I’m overheated.”
“As you would be in that dress.” He led the way to the house, and she followed, relief washing through her when they entered the cool stone foyer.
“Are you all right now?”
“Better, thank you.” She folded her hands and put them in front of her, the folds of her skirt hiding them.
“Hopefully your things will be here soon. I imagine that is quite uncomfortable.”
She looked down and took a breath at the same time, her breasts trying to escape the bodice. Again.
Her things. Because she was expected to live here. To drop everything for this. For him. Because he wanted it to look real.
“So,” she said, her voice tight, her next words escaping before she had the chance to think them through, fueled by her nerves, by her need to know what he was thinking. What he might ask of her. “Are we about to consummate this marriage?”
“What?”
“You said...you said you were so eager to consummate, and you’re having my things sent here. You want to get on that?”
“I think not,” he said, dark brows drawn together, his grasp of her sarcasm clearly loose at best. “Certainly not tonight.”
“What exactly is the marriage going to be? And if not tonight, do you see it happening in the future?”
“I wanted to present a certain front to the press. That’s all. Per the agreement we signed this afternoon, we have to stay married for five years before the deal is finalized, or ownership of the company defaults to...”
“It would go to Alex, wouldn’t it?”
“Considering your father’s health? And if he stays with your sister that long? Likely. That means whatever happens, this marriage is not going to be quick and easy. Even then...even then perhaps it would be best for us to consider making this arrangement permanent. However, you have just stepped in at the last minute—I’m hardly going to force you upstairs to ravish you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “That’s not what I...”
“You were the one who asked,” he said.
“Just making things clear. We did get married today, and you did make a comment about consummation,” she threw back.
“So you’re offering me your body, as well? Right now? How about here? I could dismiss my staff, or hell, they’re paid to look the other way, why bother dismissing them? Would you like me to tear your dress off and have you against the wall?”
His voice was rough, unsteady, like nothing she’d heard from him before.
She’d pushed him to a place she hadn’t intended, the conversation not seeming as absurd as she’d imagined when she’d first spoken the words. There was an edge of danger, reality to all of this. She’d never seen him like this. This close to losing grip on his control.
Being in the path of it was almost frightening. But she was close to the edge, too. She felt vulnerable and at a disadvantage, two things she hated. And pushing at his control made her feel like she had even more of it.
“I could, Leah. Some women like that. Or, if you prefer I could take you upstairs and make you my wife for real. But the thing is, I would be doing it because I’m angry. At her. I would think of her. She is the only woman I have ever loved, and she walked away from me on our wedding day to be with someone else. Someone I despise. If I were with you,” he continued, his voice rough, “it would be to get back at her. I’m a man—never forget that. I could think of anything and get it up while I parted your thighs. It would hardly make you special. Yes, I could have you. But the question is, right now, would you want me?”
His words shouldn’t hurt. But they were so cold, so hard, they cut through her defenses, straight to her heart.
But she wouldn’t let him see.
“You loved her?” she asked.
“I love her,” he said. “Years of loving someone isn’t erased by one act. As convenient as it might be.”
“I suppose not.”
The whole thing made her pride burn. How adamant he was about not wanting her. And at the same time, she looked into his dark eyes and realized his own pride was savaged. Realized how hard this was for him.
He’d lost the woman he loved. He had married someone else. Someone he had no feelings for. He was looking at her and seeing a broken dream. No matter how strong her armor, she felt the impact of that like a battering ram against the steel.
“I think I’ll go to my room then, since you’re not interested in a quick consummation,” she said, her tone tart, her expression as neutral as she could get it. “Good night.”
He nodded once. “Tomorrow, we’ll come up with a plan.”
“I look forward to it.”
Maybe a night of sleep would help her figure out what she was doing. Help her figure out what had happened to her.
And what they were going to do about it.
CHAPTER THREE
AJAX WOKE UP without a hangover. Because he hadn’t been able to bring himself to drink. As Leah had observed, he didn’t drink alcohol. He prized his control far too much. Vice was the downfall of man.
The need for a certain high, whether it be from alcohol, drugs or sex was responsible for much of the evil in the world. Something he’d lived at one point in time. Something he’d witnessed in horrific detail. And something he’d done his best to destroy, even if it was only one small piece of it.
He did not let vice own him. Not anymore. He didn’t even give it a foothold on his soul.
Rachel leaving wasn’t reason enough to give that up. But, Theos, it burned his pride. He hadn’t imagined pride had such a place in his life, but apparently it did.
He stalked down the stairs, wearing nothing but a pair of black pants, not bothering to get dressed. He was not in the mood to deal with much of anything or anyone.
He stalked through the house and into the dining room, where the one thing he couldn’t avoid dealing with was sitting, perched on the edge of a chair, a cup of coffee in her hands, her whiskey-colored eyes round. She looked very like a lost child. And he had no patience to deal with it. Any of it.
“I trust you slept well?” he asked, attempting civility because regardless of his feelings it was the appropriate way to treat one’s wife. Or so he imagined.
“Not in the least,” she returned, her voice crisp.
Her dark, curly hair was tied up, a little puffball on top of her head, and she was wearing a baggy sweater, the sort that made generous breasts blend into a woman’s waist, concealing any nice attributes her figure might possess.
Not that he cared. Her figure was the least of his concerns.
“If the mattress is a problem for you, a new one can be ordered.”
“I don’t think it was the mattress so much as the unexpected acquisition of a husband, but I could be wrong. Maybe the sleep surface was too firm.”
“You seem a bit off this morning.”
Her fingers flexed around the cup, giving the impression of claws. “Do I?”
He found he wanted to push her. He was spoiling for a fight and he couldn’t say why. He’d never tried to pick a fight for no reason in his life. He’d grown up in such a volatile environment, and he’d learned early on that the quickest way to an early death, or at the very least a world of pain, was to cause trouble.
Keeping his head down, doing as he was told, all while planning, planning and strategizing, finding a way out—that was the way to survive.
Today, he didn’t just want to survive. He wanted to fight. It seemed a perfect substitute for getting drunk.
“Hardly the blushing bride,” he said. “You look like hell, to be honest.”
“Are you always such an ass?”
Good. She was getting angry. That was what he wanted. What he craved right now.
“Perhaps you’ve never had the chance to really get to know me before now, though, in the interest of full disclosure, I am in a bloody bad mood this morning.”
“I’m glad to know this at least qualifies as a bad mood. Why are you taking it out on me?”
He didn’t know. He didn’t know why his control was fraying. Why he wasn’t being self-contained. Why he was suddenly incapable of maintaining an iron grip on emotion. “Because you’re here, agape mou. The lucky replacement bride.”
“Would my sister be on the receiving end of this treatment? If so, I can certainly see why she ran out on the wedding.”
“If your sister were here, I daresay we might still be in bed. And I would certainly be in a better mood.”
Something flashed in her amber eyes that he didn’t like. Pain? He had gone a step too far in venting his anger. Saying things he wasn’t even certain he felt just to simply let the anger continue. Indulging emotion for once rather than sublimating it.
He didn’t know how sleeping with Rachel would make him feel. The idea of it...it had made him tense. But that was to be expected, considering the nature of their relationship, and everything else.
But sex with his wife was half the appeal of marriage to him. Everything in life had a place. A fire burning in the fireplace was all well and good. But when the fire spread outside of it, that became a problem.
Yes, things had their place. And he had been looking forward to having everything where it was meant to be.
But now the plan was upended. And he wasn’t certain of his next move. For a man who liked to plan ahead, it was disconcerting at best.
“I am sorry,” he bit out. “That was crass of me. I’m frustrated, and it has very little to do with you personally.” Except, somehow, the frustration, or rather, his inability to manage it, did seem tied to her.
She blinked, and he could see some of the tension release from her body. “Of course not. Of course. None of this really has anything to do with me personally, does it?”
“I’m glad you have such a good grasp on the situation.”
“I don’t, Ajax, not even close. What, if you’ll excuse me, in hell do you want from me? Do you want me to just hang out for the next five years, living in your house, and then go on my merry way like none of this ever happened?”
“Clearly that cannot happen,” he said.
“Clearly?”
“I would not disrespect you that way.”
“Oh, honey, after all the crap you said to me last night, you’re saying you don’t want to disrespect me?”
“I was angry.”
“Great. So was I. So am I.”
“I apologized.”
“An apology isn’t a magic healing potion, it’s just a bandage. It covered up some of my pique nicely, but it’s hardly healed.”
“Well,” he said, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, “perhaps we can set it aside in the interest of figuring out what it is we need to do?”
“All right,” she said.
“We’re married, and we really had no other choice, all things considered.”
“Yes.”
“And we have to stay married for at least five years.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“And I planned on marrying into your family. On keeping Holt in your family. I want to be married. I would like to have children. A real marriage suits me.”
“Oh, indeed?”
“Yes. I wanted a wife. A wife was always my end goal.”
“Except she was tall, blond, a size four and named Rachel?”
“Yes,” he said, teeth gritted. “But in the end, what difference does it make?”
“Is that really how you feel? Do I matter that little... Does she?”
“It isn’t you, Leah. I have had a plan for my life from the moment I left my father’s house. I planned to work my way up, and I did. To make a new start for myself with nothing but hard work, honesty. To never, ever set foot back on the path I was born to walk. And I have done that. I met your family, and your father and mother made me feel welcomed. Like a son. And then there was Rachel. Everything fit. It all seemed perfect. I knew the first time I saw her she was my end goal. That she would be my wife. She is the first part of my plan that has dared not to fall into place.”
“Yes, well, that’s because she’s a woman and not a business venture.”
“But we would have been perfect,” he said.
“No, Ajax, you wouldn’t have been. You would have been fine, but not perfect. Because she’s not perfect. You certainly aren’t.”
“But it made sense,” he said. “In my head...in my head she made everything fall into place.”
“She’s not a business venture, and she’s not an ideal, either.”
He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “I know that.”
“Well, you don’t seem to. You talk like marriage to her was your end goal and then...and then what? It would just be perfect? Your life would suddenly be perfect?”
“I can’t... It’s hard to... I’ve been working, Leah, so hard, all of my life. I came to your family’s home, and your parents treated me more like a son than an employee. They took me in, gave me focus and purpose. Your father set me on this path. He taught me things, taught me how to be a man, to be strong. He gave me goals. He sent me to school. I have been walking that path he set me on, tirelessly, never looking away from the goal, from the end.”
“To where you would make Holt continue on for him. Where you would be part of our family.”
“I’ve been walking for a long time,” he said.
“And then you reach the end and you rest?”
“And then maybe I don’t have to work so hard to stay in control all the damn time because I’ll have arrived at a more stable point,” he bit out. “My...everything would be in place.”
Because things weren’t now. He’d made money, obtained power and connections. He’d used all of the resources at his disposal to bring down his father’s drug and human trafficking ring. And he still couldn’t rest. He still didn’t feel he could stop working. Stop trying to distance himself from his past.
From all he had done.
“Why do you need to hang on to control so tightly, Ajax?” she asked, her eyes filled with...sympathy. Pity. If she knew who she was talking to, if she knew the beast that lived inside him, she wouldn’t look at him like that.
He stood and started to pace the room. “It’s nothing. This is nothing. It can still be fixed.”
Leah studied him, noticed the tension in his jaw, in the lines of his body. He was uncomfortable, and thrown off. And she had to take into account that he could very well be heartbroken.
He said he loved Rachel. But for the first time she wondered. Wondered if he’d ever known her really, or if she’d just been symbolic for him.
“I have a plan, Leah,” he said.
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Oh, good. Let’s hear it.”
He stopped moving, his hands locked behind his back. “First, we must show a united front. I am taking over a massive corporation here, changing the layout in some respects. We need to show solidarity—I will not appear weak.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” She couldn’t imagine him appearing weak anyway.
“And I will not be seen as a man forced into this situation.”
“Pride is a beautiful thing. At least I think it is. I don’t know that I have any left.”
“I find myself in short supply, as well.” His expression turned fierce. “And I will turn my focus to helping mass produce Leah’s Lollies products, as soon as time allows.”
She ignored the leap her heart took and looked down at her fingernails. “Payment for services rendered?”
He looked stricken for a moment, and his face paled. Then, as soon as the reaction occurred, he covered it again. “This is not that sort of arrangement. You are my wife. Not a woman I have purchased.”
“And how long will I be your wife?” That was the one bit left undiscussed. Undecided. Would she be his wife on paper, or in reality.
“I made vows,” he said. “I intend to honor them. Do you?”
“In what regard?”
“In all regards. What’s the sense in divorce when this union could serve us both?”
“We’re missing the love bit.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’s overly romantic.”
He was right. Now. It hadn’t always been true. But over time...over time all that sunny optimism had bled from her, an open vein that had truly begun the hemorrhage the moment she’d first seen Rachel standing by Ajax. The perfect couple, so beautiful, so poised. The embodiment of her heartbreak.
“I’m not especially. But what do I get out of this, Ajax? Beyond a husband who is bitter toward me and will think of other women if we ever make love?”
He looked her over, slowly, and something changed in his eyes, heat sparking in their dark depths. Heat that lit an answering fire in her stomach. Heat that reminded her just how strong a pull Ajax had over body.
“What do I get?” she repeated, her voice a whisper.
“What do you want?”
As they’d both pointed out, their pride was all but destroyed. So why cling to it now? She wasn’t going to sit around, angry over not getting what she wanted because she hadn’t asked for it. She was going to make her own demands. If he wanted a marriage, she would give him a marriage.
She had her armor now—she didn’t need love. She didn’t want it. Didn’t want emotion. But a business partnership, cemented by marriage, that she could handle. And sex with Ajax? Well, she was attracted to him. And frankly, she was over being a virgin. This was a convenient way to deal with both her attraction to him and the virginity. A win-win situation, really.
And yeah, kissing him had knocked her defenses a bit, but it wouldn’t happen again. Not when she was the one making demands. Not when it was expected.
She would make this a marriage that would work for her, not just for him. To hell with his plans, she had plans of her own. If he said no, maybe he’d release her.
But if he said yes...
“If we’re going to stay married, then I want a marriage. I want you, in my bed, every night, and never with another woman. I want you to support me personally and professionally. I won’t live a half life forever because of a rash decision I made.”
“Naturally,” he said, “I want children, as I said already. It has always been a part of my plan. And you?”
She hadn’t given it a lot of thought, because marriage had seemed a far-off event. But part of her had always taken for granted that she would be a mother someday.
“I want them,” she said, trying not to think too deeply about it.
“And as you are my wife, sleeping with you seems only logical. What is the point of seeking physical release elsewhere?”
“I’m relieved you feel that way.” Though not overly flattered. “Better for our health, wellness and media image, I imagine.”
“However, I stand by my original statement. You and I may figure out the finer points of our relationship after this whole thing has been smoothed over in the public arena. While we’re attending events as blissful newlyweds, it would be best if our personal relationship was kept as simple as possible. I don’t want Christofides thinking there might be a weakness he can exploit. I don’t want him to get desperate and decide he should come and seduce you.”
“Me?”
“He may very well if he sees that Rachel is a dead end to destroying my goals.”
“Oh, seduced for revenge from my marriage that’s for business only. I am such a lucky girl.”
“It’s the reality, Leah. I don’t say it to insult.”
“Of course not.”
“Also in favor of waiting, you need time to adjust.”
“Time to adjust? What do you... What?”
“Yesterday you were to be my sister-in-law—today, you’re my wife, I doubt you’re prepared for the change. In spite of what I said about you not being a prisoner, and while I know you entered into the arrangement of your own free will, it was an emotionally heightened moment, and there were a lot of reasons why our marriage made sense in terms of business. But just because all of that made sense, does not mean you and I make sense as a couple. Naturally, you will need time before you’re ready to consummate.”
She blinked, unable to wrap her mind around what he’d just said. “Need...time?”
“Naturally.”
She felt raw. Her ego wounded and scrubbed with salt. And now he was telling her what she wanted. To hell with that. “You have no idea what I’m ready for, what I want. Don’t you dare think you can tell me. I’m quite okay with sex, the idea of us having sex sits very well with me. I didn’t agree to marry you thoughtlessly, I know what being married means.”
“You’re young, Leah, naive. I will not take advantage of that. A little time for everyone to adjust to the situation is necessary.”
She felt defiant now, her pride, that pride she’d decided only a moment ago she didn’t care much about. “I don’t need time, Ajax. You could have me on this table right now if you want. Think of my sister. Hell, think of England, I don’t care. I know what I want. I said exactly what I wanted. I want you.”
The words hung, heavy in the silence of the room. She’d admitted it. That she wanted him. That she wanted to sleep with him. Something about the admission made her feel stronger. Made her feel like her armor was back in place.
“The thing is,” he said, his voice a growl, “I don’t want you. You are a child to me. I look at you and I see a girl. I do not see a woman.”
His words didn’t hurt as badly as they might have, not with her armor on. Not when she could see, so easily, that he was lashing out because of pain in him. Not because of her. “I’m twenty-three. I am not a child.”
The anger in his eyes dissipated, and he just looked tired. “I...I have not had time to adjust to the new plan.”
Just then she found it hard to be mad at him, in spite of the cutting edge to his words. “And the plan is everything, right?” A new thing she’d learned about him in the past twenty-four hours.
“Yes, Leah, the plan is damn well everything,” he said, each syllable rough and hard. “How do you navigate life without one?”
“Follow your heart. Your passions...”
“Passion,” he spat, as though the word tasted terrible on his tongue, “is the single most destructive element in life I can think of.”
“You don’t feel passion?”
“I deny it.”
“Not even for Rachel?”
He shook his head, dark eyes blank. “For nothing. For no one.”
“I thought you loved her.”
“What does that have to do with passion?” he asked.
“Everything.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Leah. Passion is all about self. All about pleasing yourself. And that path...that path can get very dark.”
And then Ajax turned and walked out of the room, and the last bit of fantasy and mist that had hung before her eyes evaporated.
There was nothing more than cold reality and the realization that the man she’d thought she’d known for most of her life was nothing more than a stranger.
CHAPTER FOUR
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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