"Also, I checked my email before the connection drops." She takes a breath, hesitating before adding, "My ex's father has filed paperwork contesting our marriage."
I turn to face her fully. "Ex? You never mentioned an ex was involved in this arrangement."
She looks surprised. "I didn't? I thought..." She frowns. "I guess I didn't explain, did I? I was so focused on the contract terms."
"No, you didn't explain." I lean against the counter, studying her with new interest. "So there's an ex and legal trouble. That's why you needed a quick marriage."
Judith sighs, pushing a stray curl from her forehead with a flour-dusted hand. "It's complicated."
"We're snowed in together for the foreseeable future. I've got time."
She gives me a measuring look, then nods slowly. "Marc Alexander the Third. Heir to the Alexander Media empire and a gambling addict with daddy's money to burn. My former fiancé."
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"I discovered he was embezzling from our joint business account to cover gambling debts. When I confronted him and threatened to expose him to his father, things got ugly." She focuses on her baking, not meeting my eyes. "I signed a prenuptial agreement with a morality clause. If I broke theengagement for any reason besides his infidelity, I'd owe a million-dollar penalty."
"Let me guess. There's a loophole if you marry someone else."
"Exactly." Now she does look up, something like relief in her eyes. "The contract becomes void if either party marries someone else before our scheduled wedding date. December 27th."
"So you need to stay married until then."
"Yes." She turns back to her baking. "I'm sorry I didn't explain before. It seemed... personal."
"It is personal." I take a sip of coffee. "But since I'm now legally entangled in your personal problems, I should probably know what I'm getting into."
"They've filed initial paperwork claiming our marriage is fraudulent." Her voice is carefully controlled. "Which technically it is, but they can't prove it if we're careful. My lawyer is handling it, but we might need to provide some evidence that we're actually living together."
"Like what?"
"Photos, joint accounts, the usual." She slides the tray into the oven. "Nothing excessive, just enough to make it look legitimate."
I consider this new complication. "Is this Alexander guy dangerous, or just vindictive?"
"Just vindictive. And powerful. His father owns three of the largest public relations firms in the country." She sets the timer. "He's threatening to make sure I never work in my field again."
The matter-of-fact way she says it, without self-pity or dramatics, makes something protective stir in my chest. A feeling I immediately suppress.
"They won't prove anything." I finish my coffee, setting down the mug with finality. "We have a legal marriage certificate,we're living together, and I've owned this property for years. It's legitimate on paper."
Relief softens her features. "Thank you. I know this is just business for you, but?—"
"It is just business." I cut her off, needing to reinforce that boundary for both our sakes. "But I honor my contracts. All of them."
She nods once, professional mask slipping back into place. "The storm's getting worse, isn't it?" She nods toward the window where snow now falls in thick curtains.
"Weather service says it could be the biggest system of the season so far. We need to prepare." I rinse my mug in the sink. "I need to check the generator and bring in more firewood. These storms can knock out power for days."
"I can help." She rolls up the sleeves of her hoodie, revealing slender forearms. "I'm stronger than I look."
"That's not necessary."
Her eyes narrow. "I'm not going to sit around like a useless princess while you do all the work. I may be a city girl, but I'm not helpless."
The flash of fire in her eyes sparks something in me, a desire to see just how far that spirit extends. "Fine. You can stack the wood I bring in. But you stay on the porch. The snow's getting too deep for those fancy boots of yours."
She looks down at her footwear, which, while casual, are clearly not designed for heavy snow. "Point taken. But I'm not going to be a burden, Dario. That's not part of our deal."
