His Ring Is Not Enough. Maisey Yates
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“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?”