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He glanced back from the threshold. ‘Good night, Darcie. Sleep well.’
Stunned, she watched him close the door behind him.
He’d left her alone. On automatic pilot, she walked to another door. The bedroom was stunning—luxurious and peaceful—but it didn’t soothe the resentment that had suddenly soared. It was her wedding night and she was lying alone in an enormous bed. An unclaimed virgin bride. She’d married a man she knew to have a ‘healthy’ appetite towards sex. A billionaire playboy no less.
But even he didn’t want her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DARCIEHADDECIDEDthe easiest thing would be to work. To pretend they weren’t actually husband and wife. Elias, however, had other ideas.
‘What do you mean you don’t want me to help you prepare for the meeting?’ She glared at him across the dining table in their suite. It was littered with toast, fruit, pastries and a coffeepot, all of which they were both ignoring.
She’d taken so long to get to sleep that by the time she finally had, she was so exhausted she’d entered deep sleep mode and then actually slept in far later than usual. Now it was almost ten thirty and Elias was due for the first of his meetings at Williams VC headquarters.
But apparently he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He shook his head. ‘Everything is done. The last report I needed has come in from London. You can relax here and take your time getting ready for tonight.’
Take her time getting ready? What was he expecting?
She bit her lip. Thelastthing she wanted was several hours in which to grow even more nervous. She’d basically been working all the hours of all her adult life and frankly didn’t have much socialising experience. Faking it behind a clipboard was one thing. Having to front up and engage not just with other people, but withhim, was a challenge.
‘I’ll re-read the report on Williams and his wife in readiness,’ she said.
‘You wrote the report, didn’t you?’ He eyed her with amusement.
She had. And she knew its contents. So obviously there were other ways in which to ‘get ready’. ‘What should I wear then?’
A wary look entered his eyes. ‘Should you wear?’
She drummed her fingers on the table between them. ‘I don’t normally attend business dinners with you.’
‘Because you never wanted to. You always said you had paperwork to attend to.’
‘Right. But this time I’m required and you’ll be introducing me as your wife.’ She gestured towards her white blouse and grey trousers. ‘So is my usual outfit suitable or do I need to dress more like...’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘More like one of your dates.’
‘What do you think my dates normally wear?’ His mouth twitched.
Not much, from what she’d seen in the photos that splashed across social media and ‘celebrity spy’ sites. Because they often were celebrities. Socialites. Models. Actresses. Savvy influencer entrepreneurs. He’d dated a bunch of gorgeous women who weren’t afraid of being seen. And judged.Notsomething Darcie was confident with.
‘Glamorous strappy dresses,’ she said.
‘You’d prefer not to wear one of those?’
She wouldn’t know where to buy one, plus now she couldn’t really afford one and yes, she had major doubts as to how good she’d look in one. ‘What would people expect your wife to wear?’
She just had to make it to passable; perfection was obviously out of the question.
‘I don’t know about other people, butI’dexpect my wife to wear whatever makesherfeel comfortable. Don’t wear something you don’t like because you think you have to. Wear whatever you want.’ He glanced at her speculatively. ‘Just as you are is more than adequate, Darcie.’
More than adequate? Her irritation mushroomed.
‘Of course, given you had little time to pack anything else yesterday, you might choose to shop for something new,’ he then added thoughtfully. ‘And if you did want to do that, then I’d expect you to use my account. After all, this dinner is effectively a work meeting. But you don’t have to if you don’t want. It’s your choice.’ He held her gaze captive. ‘Everything is your choice, Darcie.’
There was a seductive edge to his voice that made her shiver. She tensed. She couldn’t embarrass herself all over again. She’d literally offered herself to him once already and he wasn’t interested. What he’d said yesterday—about not being able to take up her offer because he was her boss—that was just a line. He couldn’t have made it more clear that even though he was now her husband, he wasn’t interested. He’d bestowed a micro-kiss on her at the altar before bundling her out of that wedding chapel and got them back on his plane as fast as was humanly possible. Then he’d all but broken his neck to get himself into a separate bedroom from her. While she was exhausted because she’d not been able to sleep at all, he, drat him, looked well rested and more gorgeous than ever.
Didn’t he haveanyconcerns about what they’d done? Didn’t he have anyone else he even ought to tell? But she’d worked alongside him for years and, while there was much she knew because of that, there were so many things she didn’t. Important things.
‘Won’t your family wonder about you getting married in such a rush?’ she asked recklessly. ‘Won’t your parents think it’s random?’
