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‘Now you don’t need to steal mine.’ His gaze drifted to her hair and seemed to darken some more. ‘You can keep your hair up with it.’
She shook her head. ‘I’d be too afraid I’d lose it.’ She knew it was worth a crazy amount of money. And it was beautiful—feminine and perfect. But she didn’t know if she could keep accepting these kinds of gifts.
‘Well,’ he set the coffee cup down with a slight bang, ‘you can use it to sign the contract in the folder.’
‘Contract?’
‘The sooner it’s signed off, the sooner I can organise the accounts.’
Accounts? With a growing sense of foreboding Ettie looked into the soft leather case again and drew out the slim Manila folder. She opened it and saw several pages of neat type. She stilled as she read the title—it was the prenuptial contract between her and Leon. Their arrangement in all its ugly glory.
‘I’ll need to take time to read it properly,’ she muttered, feeling a hit of dizziness as she saw the lists of numbers—remuneration. She’d forgotten about their ‘deal’ over the weekend. She’d been too busy trying to breach his defences again the way she had on Friday night. Too busy trying to restore her own inner equilibrium. And she’d failed on both counts.
His lips twisted. ‘Sure. Get it back to me later today.’
She frowned as she studied one page more carefully—the itemised list of her benefits. ‘This monthly allowance...is for groceries and everything?’
‘No, it’s your personal allowance.’
But it was more than what she was paid for her job at Cavendish House! She looked up to glare at him.
‘You need new clothes and things...’
Her fury mounted and he fell silent at the expression in her eyes. Yeah, he knew she was insulted. But what was worse was that she knew he’d done this deliberately to engender such a reaction in her. Well, it had worked.
‘And I get an annual bonus each year for remaining married to you?’ she clarified with barely disguised rage.
He lifted that damned coffee cup to his lips again.
‘You think I’ll respond to that kind of financial incentive?’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ he asked coolly.
After she’d opened up to him so completely? After what they’d shared on Friday night? Hurt swept over her in a violent wave. Yet immediately after it followed a deep resignation—and regret. Because she remembered she’d already responded to a financial inducement. It was why she’d agreed to marry him in the first place. This was just the painful reminder of that reality—in cold black and white print.
She shuffled the odious pages together and shoved them into the damned gorgeous bag, tossing the pen in too, not bothering with the perfect little presentation box. ‘I’d better get to work; I don’t want to be late.’
‘I’ll drop you.’
‘No need.’ She turned a huge smile on him as she marched out of the room. ‘I’m happy to walk.’
To her enormous relief—and no small amount of regret—he didn’t follow her. She breathed quick, steadying breaths all the way to Cavendish House but her nausea had returned. And all her horror.
Yet why should she be so angry about it? Shouldn’t she take this as the business opportunity it was? He was giving her everything she could ever want, right?
Because he didn’t really want this. Not with her.
He’d lifted that curtain and told her about his life and he regretted it. Not just a wince of embarrassment, but an excoriating extent of regret. He’d pretended he didn’t, he didn’t show any outward emotion, but she’d seen it eating him, she’d sensed his withdrawal as he sought to rebuild walls he thought were weakened. All weekend she’d hoped—but he hadn’t opened up again. Instead he’d made it all about her. As if he was determined to make her happy—as if it was another job for him to entertain her. Despite their intimacy, the distance she’d felt between them wasn’t breached. And she knew the effort he’d made was unsustainable. If it was this hard for him now, she couldn’t see how it was going to work for long in the future.
And he’d been busy in the background, hadn’t he? Working out his damned clinical contract to seal them both into nothing but a seedy money-for-marriage transaction.
To think she’d actually thought for a moment that they might’ve become something more. To think she’d actually had that fantasy of happy-ever-after. That she’d actually had hope that with time...
One look at that contract and she knew there was no chance. His regret was all-consuming. She’d feel sorry for him if she wasn’t so hurt. Did he really think so little of her? Think she’d accept money to make their marriage last month by month?
Now she’d never felt as exposed or as insecure in all her life. Not when her mother had got her diagnosis, or when her ex had texted to tell her the wedding was off. Neither compared to the uncertainty she felt now. Her heart raced as if she’d sprinted her way to work. And now she had to maintain the lie in front of her friends—act ecstatic and in love and all that...it was too hard and all she wanted to do was cry.
Work. Be like Leon. Get it done.
She had to get it done. She couldn’t let that contract ruin her career as well. She’d worked too hard for it. She just needed to find the time to work out what she was going to do about Leon next. She’d have to do that later.
So she smiled with pure determination as Joel held the door to the concierge office open for her when she arrived, and when he bowed as she walked through.
‘Stop it.’ She tried to laugh it off.
‘You’re the boss now... I have to bow and scrape.’
‘Ettie,’ Jess squealed and leapt up from the seat she’d been sitting on, obviously waiting for her arrival. ‘You should hear the rumours about you.’ She pounced on her and grabbed Ettie’s hand, her eyes bugging as she inspected the emerald and diamonds. ‘OMG, it’s true. I’m so thrilled for you.’ Jess swept her up in a giant hug. ‘When you fainted and he carried you up to the penthouse, it was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.’
Ettie hid her face in Jess’s shoulder. Her friend’s congratulations were heartfelt but she felt hideously awkward. Her engagement wasn’t romantic at all, but a business arrangement with benefits.
‘And you’ve worked so hard, you deserve your promotion,’ Joel said a little gruffly.
‘He’s pleased because he gets promoted too,’ Jess teased Joel with sparkling eyes. ‘What you deserve, Ettie, is happiness.’
Ettie blinked back the shockingly sudden surge of tears. She’d worked alongside these guys for years and seeing them this happy for her was...overwhelming. And awkward. So awkward. She blew out a quick breath and smiled as Joel and Jess left the office to get on with their jobs. She could hold it together. It was just hormones and tiredness and the horror of that awful agreement that she couldn’t think about right now...
The morning went swiftly because it was perfectly, blessedly busy. But just as she’d finally settled into the swing of it, someone called her to the front desk.
‘Hey!’
Ettie’s legs suddenly weakened. ‘Ophelia?’
‘Yes!’ Her little sister rushed over and pulled her into a huge hug, managing to dance a small jig at the same time.
‘Why are you here? Is everything okay?’ Ettie’s heart thudded.
‘Everything is fabulous.’
Ophelia leaned back and Ettie got a good look at her. Her sister, taller than Ettie, was stunning even in her slightly faded second-hand blazer. Her hair was chestnut and shining and her skin and smile just glowed with health.
‘I’m in London for a debating tournament.’
‘Of course you are.’ Ettie laughed at her gorgeous, geeky sister. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’
‘I wasn’t sure I could get here. I only have an hour and then I have to get back for
the next round.’
‘You sneaked out?’
‘Well, duh.’ Ophelia laughed. ‘Because I’m so excited for you. I couldn’t come to London and not see you.’
‘Come into the office.’ Ettie bit her lip and led her sister into a private space.
She’d phoned Ophelia at Friday lunchtime, after her trip to the dog shelter. She’d told her about moving in with Leon and the baby and almost everything.
But not quite all. She could never tell her sister the deal she’d struck with Leon. She could never explain the intricacies of that.
‘Is he here?’ Ophelia asked as soon as the door was closed, her eyes shining so brightly that Ettie couldn’t hold her gaze.
‘No, he’s in his office. He has meetings.’ Right now Ettie was so glad he’d moved out of Cavendish House.
‘When can I meet him?’ Ophelia bounced on her toes. ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’
Churning hot acid burned up Ettie’s throat. This was so much worse than the lie to Jess and Joel. ‘He’s a busy guy.’
‘You have to come up and see me and bring him. Please! You have to come soon.’
Ettie nodded. But she didn’t want Ophelia to meet him. She didn’t want this to become that real.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ophelia paused, a slight frown forming on her face.
‘Nothing, I’m just...surprised to see you.’ Ettie summoned a bright smile, but she and Ophelia were close. Too close—because right now Ophelia saw right through her. She had to act as if it were perfect. It was perfect, wasn’t it?
‘Good surprised or bad surprised?’
‘Good—but if you get into trouble for sneaking out from debating, I won’t be happy.’
Ophelia smiled but her gaze was still too watchful. ‘Do you love him, Ettie?’
Ettie’s throat constricted. She couldn’t answer that question. She couldn’t answer that one even to herself. But her face burned with a blush.
