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CHAPTER TEN

‘JACK, YOU’REHERE!’ Katie stopped dead at the entrance to the dining room, a mix of shock and panic and exhilaration duelling in her chest at the sight of her husband sitting at the table where she’d eaten alone for the last three nights.

His white business shirt was open at the neck to reveal a hint of the tattoo across his chest, the sleeves rolled up tanned, muscular forearms, his hair mussed and his jaw darkened with a day’s beard. The scene should have felt at least a little bit domestic. But it didn’t. The possessive glint in his eyes echoed in her abdomen.

Yeah, right. Jack Wolfe is about as domesticated as his namesake.

‘And you’re late,’ he said as his penetrating gaze glided over her flour-stained clothing and the weary set of her shoulders. ‘You’re working too hard.’

‘Well, there’s a lot to do,’ Katie said a little defensively, disconcerted by the note of concern and the fact it made her feel cherished when she knew it wasn’t real. ‘I would have left earlier, though, if I’d known you were joining me for dinner...’ she said, trying at least to sound like a dutiful wife. After all, it was what they’d agreed on. Although, she hadn’t felt like a wife in the three days since their wedding. He hadn’t even contacted her.

At first, she had fretted she’d somehow offended him by being honest with him and not inviting him into her bed. His comment about the baby had upset her, making her feel uniquely vulnerable, but not seeing or hearing from him for three days had only made the unsettled feeling worse...not that it was exactly calm at the moment.

How did he manage to throw her for a loop simply by breathing?

‘I didn’t expect to see you tonight,’ she added rather inanely as he picked up one of the freshly baked bread rolls laid out on the table by the kitchen staff.

‘Last time I looked, this was my house,’ he said as he buttered the roll, watching her intently as she walked to the place setting at the other end of the table.

‘Are you planning to move in, then?’ she asked, not entirely sure how she felt about the prospect. The twin tides of panic and exhilaration now danced a jig in her chest, and a few other places besides.

She couldn’t avoid him for ever, and she really didn’t want to. Surely getting to know him better had to be a good thing? Especially as she’d come to the conclusion—after three days of overthinking what he’d said about fatherhood—that perhaps she just needed to be patient with him.

He’d said he didn’t intend to play a part in the baby’s life. But maybe that would change. The pregnancy had to have been a major shock for him too—however good he was at hiding it. And he didn’t have the same physical connection with their grain-o’-rice as she did. Of course, the baby would seem like a totally abstract concept to him at this point.

‘Not tonight,’ he said as a waiter arrived with the first course.

The exhilaration dimmed a bit as a beautifully prepared salad made up of crisp romaine lettuce, finely sliced radishes, carrots, apple and endives, and drizzled with a creamy dressing, was placed in front of her.

‘Oh... Okay,’ she said, trying to hide her disappointment. She tucked into the salad. Her appetite had returned full force in the last few weeks, despite all the tension over her situation with Jack but, as she wracked her brains to figure out what he was doing here, she couldn’t swallow a bite.

‘We’re heading to the Maldives tomorrow night for a week,’ he said. ‘So you’ll need to brief your team at the bakery and have the housekeeper arrange your packing.’

Katie dropped her fork onto the plate, so shocked by her new husband’s bland pronouncement, she barely noticed the splatter of salad dressing hitting the table cloth. ‘What?’

He let out a gruff laugh, but his gaze remained locked on hers, more provocative than humorous. ‘I believe it’s the usual protocol after a wedding to have a honeymoon.’

‘Except this isn’t a usual wedding, is it?’ she said. ‘I haven’t even heard from you in three days.’

He placed his knife and fork on the plate, before trapping her again in that blazing blue gaze. ‘Have you missed me, Mrs Wolfe?’

Yes, you stupid...

She quashed the unhelpful thought before it could burst out of her mouth and give him even more power.

‘I’m just saying, this isn’t a normal marriage.’

He picked up his cutlery again, speaking in a conversational tone as he sliced through an endive leaf. ‘Perhaps not, but I thought you understood the marriage has to appear to be real.’

‘But... There was nothing about a honeymoon in the contract,’ she floundered. She didn’t want to go on some romantic getaway with him—for a whole week—even if it was only for the sake of appearances. She was having enough trouble sitting across the dining room from him without getting fixated on the way his shoulders strained the seams of his shirt, or recalling the rigid, resistant look on his face when she had asked him about his thoughts on fatherhood.

Getting to know him slowly, and carefully, with a full staff in attendance was one thing. Surviving a week of his focussed attention while battling her own insecurities was quite another. How would she be able to deny the insistent need with him right there? Sleeping with him would fundamentally change the parameters of their agreement in a way that could be dangerous if she wasn’t emotionally prepared for the change.

‘If you read the small print, it stated you would be required to travel with me,’ he continued in that forceful, pragmatic tone that got on her nerves. ‘This honeymoon is part of that commitment. You signed it, Red. Are you trying to renege on the deal already?’

‘No, but...’ She gathered her ragged breathing, forcing herself to remain calm. She’d known he would be dominant, demanding. She’d expected that. She must not lose her temper, because that would just give him the upper hand, especially as she was beginning to think he enjoyed provoking her.

‘You said we could negotiate our work schedules. I can’t very well leave my business for a week with less than a day’s notice.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Our flight isn’t leaving until eight tomorrow night, so you’ve got most of the day to brief your team.’

‘Fine, but it’s still too soon to relinquish—’

‘There’s an excellent Internet connection where we’re going.’ He cut her off, the prickle of impatience sending an answering prickle of irritation through her. ‘You’ll be able to check in with your team if necessary.’

Standing, he dropped his napkin on the table.

‘But this isn’t fair,’ she said, annoyed when she heard the whiney tone of her own voice. ‘I don’t want to go to the Maldives.’

With you. Alone. On a fake honeymoon. Which will mean nothing to you and might mean something to me.

He strode towards her and tucked a knuckle under her chin to brush his thumb over her bottom lip.

She jerked her head back, but it was already too late. He had to have seen the awareness flare at the brief touch.

He planted his hands in his pockets, the smile as smug as it was predatory. ‘I understand very well, Red. You think by avoiding each other this incessant heat will just go away. It won’t.’

‘But what if I’m not ready?’

His scarred eyebrow lifted, his cast-iron confidence completely undimmed by her declaration.

Damn him.

‘I told you anything we do in private would be your choice. That hasn’t changed.’

‘Then why are you insisting on going to—?’

‘However...’ He interrupted her. Again! ‘I did not agree to pretend the heat between us doesn’t exist. Personally, I believe enjoying it for as long as your condition allows will make this marriage a lot more pleasurable for both of us. And trying to avoid it will only increase the problem. So I guess the battle lines are drawn.’

The tell-tale weight sunk into her sex as he returned to his seat and finished his salad. She sucked in a breath, too furious to speak.

Of all the arrogant, high-handed, conceited, overbearing...

She picked up her knife and fork again, ignoring the tremble in her fingers. Fine, she’d go on his stupid honeymoon and show him he couldn’t bend her to his will. But she’d refuse to be bulldozed back into his bed... By his hungry kisses, his addictive scent or that seductive promise in his cool blue eyes...even if it killed her.

Although it very well might.


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance