His Trophy Wife. Leigh Michaels
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his attention between watching the silently shifting expressions on her face and cataloging the contents of the bathroom. It was fortunate, he decided, that he didn’t own a straight-edged razor, because if she couldn’t get her hands on one, she couldn’t slit his throat with it—no matter how much she looked as if she’d like to try.
“No.” The single word sounded as if she were strangling.
He pretended not to have heard. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this anyway. You’ve had six months to get used to the idea of being married, and now it’s time to take the next step.”
“This has never been a marriage, it’s a merger.”
“Up till now, yes. But really, Morganna—you’re surely not naive enough to think I intended it to stay that way.”
“But you already have everything you wanted from me! The house, the listing in the social register, the trophy wife on your arm at parties—for heaven’s sake, Sloan, they’re going to ask you to be one of the official hosts at the Carousel Ball!”
He was momentarily distracted. “I must admit I’d like to know how you pulled that one off, Morganna. But what makes you think that’s all I wanted?”
“What else is there?”
He said, slowly and very deliberately, “I want the Montgomery name to have the same respect in future generations that the Ashworths have had in the past. In short, I want my children to be accepted as the cream of Lakemont society.”
Her eyes were wide and unfocused, as if she was looking at a scene too awful to comprehend. “Your children—and mine, you mean? No.”
“Why? Because you think your bloodline is too rarefied to mix with a barbarian’s?”
The dart struck home; he saw her shudder. “Because you’re not interested in me that way.”
“Of course I am. I’m no monk, and you’re a very attractive woman.”
“But in six months you’ve never even suggested…You only kissed me tonight because Mother was watching.”
“I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the right moment to take the next step. Tonight just made me think about what I’ve been missing and decide that the time is now. As for the idea that I’m not interested in you—I’ll be happy to demonstrate how very wrong you are about that. Come here.”
She backed up instead. “Please, Sloan—don’t be insulting. We both know I’m hardly the only woman who would have satisfied your requirements for a wife. I’m only here because at the moment you started shopping, I was available and my price was lower than most.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Do you have any idea what your father has cost me already? And I’m not nearly done clearing up the mess he left behind.”
Her eyes widened. “If you think you can blackmail me into your bed by threatening to stop paying the debts you took over—”
“Coerce you by going back on the terms of our deal? Of course not. I wouldn’t do that any more than I’d use force.”
He saw relief register in her face.
“I’ve been very patient, Morganna. You’ve had six months to get used to the situation. I’ve given you every opportunity to see the advantages of being married to me, and I’ve made it plain that I intend this to be a long-term bargain. It’s time to move on to the next stage of the relationship. Make it a real marriage.”
“I suppose you set this up.” She sounded bitter. “Inviting my mother, I mean, so she’d put pressure on me.”
“Not guilty. As a matter of fact, Abigail’s visit startled me just as much as it did you. I’ll admit if I’d thought of the scheme, I might have engineered it—”
“That’s certainly no surprise.”
“But I didn’t think of it. Her timing is very convenient for my purposes, but then it’s no crime to take advantage of handy accidents. Do you know, I think I’ve looked at that dress quite long enough for one evening. Shall I help you out of it, my dear?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You said you wouldn’t use force.”
“And I won’t—because I don’t need to. You’ll come to me, Morganna.”
“I’m leaving now.” Her voice was shaky.
He didn’t move to intercept her as she made her way across the room, but he didn’t step out of her path, either. “You’ll come to me,” he repeated softly, “because if you don’t—”
She stopped less than two feet away and turned to face him. “Because if I don’t—then what? You’ll tell my mother on me? How ludicrous can you get, Sloan?”
Sloan shook his head. “Because if you don’t, you’ll regret it. Not because of anything I’ll do, but because of what you’ll be missing, Morganna.” With a single step he closed the distance between them and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Her breath was shallow and uneven; he could feel her panic in the rigidity of her face. “Whether you know it or not, you have appetites, my dear. And I intend to be the man who satisfies them.”
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