I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, couldn’t stand to see the accusation I knew was in his eyes. He’d think I was in on it. Of course, he would. How many women had dangled after that position? Lady of the Manor. Wife to the Sawyer heir.
Not me. Never me. I’d had girlish dreams, but I’d never imagined I could fill that role. Even back then, when I’d ruined his engagement, I never thought to take her place.
How could I? It was only that she’d been wrong for him. She’d been a nightmare, not that it excused what I’d done.
Harvey’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You have to be married for five years, as I said. To the outside world, it’s a love match. No one can know about the will, excluding the three of us, I’m assuming Edgar, and your witness.”
“Witness?” I asked, not understanding. Did he mean the witness to the ceremony? Why would they need to know?
“Apparently, Prentice didn’t trust either of you to adhere to the spirit of the arrangement. It has to be real. No separate bedrooms. No separate lives. No adultery. You can’t be apart for more than twelve hours at a time in the first year. No more than thirty-six hours at a time for the remaining four years or until you’ve produced two children. The witness is there to provide testimony, if needed, that you’re conducting yourselves according to the terms. And Hope has to sign a prenup. If you divorce in five years, she gets nothing from the Sawyer estate.”
“That’s bullshit,” Griffen said. “She gives up five years of her life and she gets nothing?”
“I don’t want anything.” Dizzy, unable to draw breath, my heart pounded against my ribs, beating against its own cage, desperate to take flight. Sitting beside Griffen, I appeared composed, but on the inside, I was screaming.
I couldn’t do this. I could read between the lines. They didn’t just want me to marry him, they wanted me to have his children. I had no illusions about how a custody battle would work out once Griffen divorced me.
I had to be realistic. I didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. Not anymore. Pushing back my chair, I rose, not sure where I was going. I paced to the window and stared through the blinds, seeing nothing.
Behind me, I heard Griffen say something to Harvey. Harvey excused himself, the door shutting with a click as he left. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around.
“You didn’t know,” I heard Griffen say.
I forced myself to turn. He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched me appraisingly, his sandy blond hair falling into his eyes. I thought I’d exaggerated him in my memories, the strong line of his jaw, the sea green of his eyes. All these years later and he still stopped my heart.
I was too shocked to bother with anything but the truth. “I had no idea. I didn’t know why I was here. Uncle Edgar said he had a headache, asked me to come in his place. They sent me to Atlanta to get you because they didn’t think you’d—”
“They didn’t think I’d come back if one of my siblings showed up, right?”
I shrugged a shoulder. It had made sense at the time. Now I could see it had been nothing more than an elaborate ruse.
“This is absurd,” I said. “You don’t want to marry me.”
“You don’t want to marry me either,” Griffen said.
“No, I don’t,” I agreed. I’d stolen one fiancée from Griffen Sawyer. The last thing I wanted was to saddle him with one he didn’t want.
He came closer, close enough for me to feel the heat of his body, smell the faint woodsy scent of him. Spice and green trees. It was winter, but he reminded me of fall, of brightly-colored leaves and bonfires, pumpkins and apple festivals. I wanted to curl up in that scent and—
Get your head straight, Hope. None of this is about you. You’re a tool and you don’t even know what you’re being used for.
“Edgar and Prentice did this. Did it occur to either of them that you might say no?” Griffen asked gently.
My laugh startled me. “I’m sure it didn’t,” I admitted.
In all their machinations, I doubted Uncle Edgar or Prentice Sawyer had considered that I wouldn’t do exactly what I was told.
“And are you?”
“Am I what?” I asked, stalling
“Going to say no?”
“Are you?” I asked, curious.
Either of us could walk away and damn the consequences. We didn’t have to do this.
He tilted his head to the side as he studied me. “Why wouldn’t I? I have everything to gain. Prentice didn’t leave me a trust, but if I marry you, I get everything. The house, the company, you—so why wouldn’t I?”
I couldn’t tell if he was asking or taunting. It didn’t matter. I replied honestly, “You don’t want any of that. You know you don’t.”