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“Were you scared that Gramps would disinherit you or something if you didn’t marry me?” It was the first time the thought had occurred to her and the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
He went utterly still and her breath snagged. Had she finally stumbled upon his real motivation for this marriage? His face remained expressionless but something in the way he held himself told her that her question had struck a nerve.
“Gramps loves you.” She broke the silence with a whisper. “He would never place restrictions on that love. He trusts you with his company. With me.”
Ben’s mouth twisted bitterly and he uttered a cynical little laugh before shaking his head impatiently.
“You don’t have a fucking clue about anything, cupcake.”
“Enlighten me then! Clue me the hell in so that I can be on the same page as you for once.”
Ben’s expression remained unreadable for a few more seconds, before something close to regret flickered in his eyes and he sighed. “I can’t.”
The cryptic response confirmed that he had secrets. Secrets he refused to share with her.
What a perfectly brilliant start to a marriage this was.
“I’ll get dressed,” she said, knowing it would be futile to press him any further on the matter. She turned away from the bed and yanked up her overnight bag on the way to the bathroom.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Ben asked.
“I don’t care,” she replied, shutting the door before he could say anything more.
Nearly twenty hours later, Lilah and Ben wearily trudged into their deluxe pool villa, set right on top of the crystal-clear waters at a private island resort in the Maldives. Gramps and Ben had insisted they use the corporate jet for travel and Lilah—who considered herself environmentally conscious—had cringed, but had been unable to deny that it was the most practical choice for the trip.
It had been an emotionally fraught journey. She and Ben hadn’t spoken much at all. He’d retreated behind his laptop, conducting meetings, making urgent phone calls, barking out last minute instructions to his executive assistant. While Lilah had spent most of the trip pretending to be asleep, occasionally texting her friends, and avoiding eye contact with Ben as much as possible.
He was wearing that damned t-shirt and he looked amazing in the faded jeans and plain white t-shirt combo. But all the while Lilah had been excruciatingly aware of the fact that she’d been sleeping in that same shirt just last night. That it probably still smelled of her expensive after-shower lotion. That he’d had her scent intimately close all day long. She could not say why that thought disturbed her, but it did.
So much.
They landed quite late at night and Lilah was relieved to finally step off the plane and into the hot humid night after the interminable and exhausting flight.
Stepping into their luxurious villa—after another long, silent drive from the airport—Lilah was too tired to notice anything other than the king-sized bed dominating the space. She kicked off her shoes and threw herself facedown across the mattress.
She must have dozed off for a few minutes, because she startled awake when Ben opened the patio door.
“I’m exhausted,” Lilah complained, flipping over onto her back and covering her face with her hands.
“Why don’t you grab a shower and get some sleep?” Ben suggested.
“Aren’t you tired?” she asked, parting her fingers to peer at him between the slits. He looked annoyingly refreshed. His clothes weren’t wrinkled, not a hair out of place. While Lilah knew she must look like she’d crept out of the laundry basket that morning. When she had dared a glance into the mirror after arriving at the airport, she’d seen that her hair had begun to frizz in the humidity, and she had bags the size of her suitcases under her eyes.
“Traveling always leaves me too wired to sleep, I need to unwind first.”
“How do you usually unwind?”
“I can think of several ways to unwind right now,” he told her with a smoldering look and she flushed to the roots of her hair. “But I guess I’ll settle for a swim.”
“Swim?” She sat up in alarm. “In the ocean? It’s too dangerous in the dark.”
“I didn’t think you cared, cupcake,” he said with a cynical twist of his lips. “If I drowned, you’d be rid of your inconvenient groom far quicker than you expected to be.”
“A divorce will do me fine, Ben. No need to martyr yourself,” she retorted, pushing herself up from the bed and heading toward her bags.
“The villa pool is small, but I’ll try to make do. I wouldn’t want you to worry about me or anything.”
“Don’t let me stop you from throwing yourself in the ocean,” she countered sweetly. “I don’t care what you do.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned her back on him to wrestle her heavy suitcase into submission, flipping it onto the side on the floor next to the bed, and rifling through it for a t-shirt and some loose running shorts to sleep in.
