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She ignored his sneering question and avoided his eyes as she rifled through the overnight bag that he’d thoughtfully removed from the closet and placed on the bed for her.
She winced at the sight of the ridiculously sheer nightgown she’d packed for her wedding night. She couldn’t possibly wear this tonight. Or any other night.
Ever.
She shoved the garment back into the bag and frantically considered her options. She refused to let him see this nightgown; it would only confirm his arrogant—accurate—belief that Lilah had married him because she loved him. To spare her pride, she’d wait for him to go to the bathroom and grab a t-shirt from her bigger suitcase, the one she’d packed for the—
She groaned and his hand immediately hooked around her elbow, swinging her to face him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching her face intently.
“I don’t want to go on honeymoon,” she admitted.
“We have to.”
They were leaving for the Maldives in the morning.
“Right now, I can’t think of anything less appealing than spending two interminable weeks in your company.”
“We’re going on this honeymoon. It’s expected.”
“I don’t want to go on honeymoon with you. Honeymoons are for lovers and we’re never going to be lovers.”
“There you go denying ownership of your decisions again, Lilah. You chose the destination, the hotel, everything. And you had no qualms about doing so. So stop being ridiculous and grow the hell up. What would Cyrus think if we didn’t go on our honeymoon?”
That tripped her up and she clamped her lips shut.
“I just don’t want to go,” she said, sounding as miserable and confused as she felt and he heaved an impatient sigh.
“Yeah? Well, that’s life, sweetheart, and I know it’ll come as shock to you, but we don’t always get what we fucking want.”
His words made her wince—he rarely used profanity, and only did so when he was extremely angry or stressed—which, judging from the language he’d been using since they’d left the chapel that morning, seemed to be his constant state around Lilah today.
“Gramps would never expect us to sacrifice our own happiness for his sake,” she whispered.
“That’s not what we’d be doing.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but the antipathy she saw in the depths of his frost-encrusted glare belied the casual gesture. “We’d be building something together. A life. An understanding. It could work.”
“This is absurd,” Lilah said with a bitter laugh. “Judging from the words that have been exchanged today, the only things we could ever build between us are resentment and anger. You don’t even like me.” The last emerged on a forlorn whisper and she wished the words back the instant they left her lips.
“We both love Cyrus and have a mutual desire to make him happy.” It killed her a little when he didn’t even bother to make a token denial of her last five words.
“That’s a weak reason to marry someone you don’t like and you know it.”
“Cyrus is…” He paused and appeared to consider his words carefully before continuing. “Well, he’s not getting any younger and a while ago he mentioned how concerned he was about what would happen to you after he was—uh—gone…” Like Lilah was a ten-year-old child instead of a twenty-seven-year-old woman. God, that stung so badly. “I saw the opportunity to ease his mind on that score. And I really do believe we can have a good life together.”
“Are you telling me this is all because Gramps made a passing comment expressing concern about what would happen to me after he died?” she scoffed, not quite believing what she was hearing. “And you… what? Saw a chance to score some brownie points with your mentor? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You didn’t try to ease his mind? Didn’t point out that I owned a prosperous business and have been doing very well for myself these past few years? You just thought, ‘hey, I’ll marry the brat and make the old man happy’?”
“I married you for several reasons.” His voice was filled with caution and she sensed he was treading very carefully and immediately wondered what he was hiding from her. Because she still didn’t believe she was getting the full story here. Not when he was watching his words so carefully. “Cyrus, business, and because I thought it was a good time to start a family.”
“But what about love? What happens when you fall in love someday? Or I do?”
“Romantic love is a fairytale.” His voice was so dismissive it was practically a shrug. “I don’t believe it exists. Not the way you think it does. I believe we could have a mutually beneficial marriage, based on common goals. I’ve never understood the ridiculous need people have to muddy the waters with irrelevant emotions that never last past the honeymoon anyway. We could find common ground, learn to like and respect each other. Those are real and lasting emotions.”
