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It was measured, and it was more sensual than tender. Ethan’s hands held her bare arms as he kissed her, long and slow, and she was glad of that, for at his lips’ command her hands wanted to lift to his head. And if she couldn’t do that, then she wanted to rise on her tiptoes, to press harder to his mouth.
But she didn’t. In fact she fought with her bodynotto respond—to simply kiss as she would were she on stage.
The photographer was clicking away and Merida, whose mind had been only on their wedding day, now moved on to thinking of their wedding night.
And as Ethan released her his black eyes and subtle smile told her he was thinking of the same thing.
He had been so abrasive, so cold at their meeting, that she had expected the same from his kiss.
Oh, she should have asked more questions about their contract when he’d invited her to do so, but she hadn’t been able to bear it.
Now Merida wanted a time-out. Just a moment to work out how she was going to deal with the quivering wreck he made her and somehow hold onto her heart.
This was a business arrangement—one she had agreed to so that they would be in the same country at least when their baby was born, and would share in that valuable time.
Yet his kiss had rocked her world.
And now there was no more time to think. For she was Mrs Ethan Devereux, and Merida found that their supposedlylow-keywedding had been completely staged to be anything but.
In the hours they had sat waiting word had got out and the press had gathered. She felt as if every tourist, every native New Yorker, was watching as Ethan Devereux once again took his bride in his arms.
The photographer positioned them on the iconic steps of the court building and she felt Ethan’s hand warm on the side of her waist. And then they turned so they faced each other and she looked up into his dark eyes.
‘Hello, wife,’ Ethan said, which made her smile.
‘Hello, husband.’
Merida was shaking a little, although not from nerves—she could play to an audience, after all. It was his touch that made her shiver. And the fact that they were together and locked into a contract that, for this moment, didn’t feel like a lie.
He blocked the sun and yet he lighted her world. And when their lips met again she forgot the ruse, forgot the savage terms of their contract, and knew why she had agreed to marry him. It wasn’t for the shareholders, or for a father who was ill, and nor was it to give their child a stable home.
She had married him with hope in her heart.
Hope that what they’d so briefly found on the night they had met might somehow return.
A foolish hope, perhaps, but it was all she had.
‘What happens now?’ Merida asked as they descended the steps towards the car.
Their quiet, intimate wedding was fast becoming anything but. There were barriers up in the street, and the NYPD were between them and the crowd.
‘Do we go back to the hotel now?’
‘We’re going there.’
Always he surprised her. Instead of agreeing that they were heading back to the hotel for more photos, Ethan was nodding towards the beautiful Brooklyn Bridge.
‘For more photos?’ Merida asked.
‘No, just dinner with a few family and friends,’ Ethan said as they got into the car. ‘Merida, Ididtry and organise for your parents to be here.’
She felt her throat tighten.
‘It’s the school holidays, though, and—’
‘I know.’ She halted him. ‘They already had plans.’ Merida was very used to their new families coming first.
‘Merida...’
