The Marriage Bargain (8 page)

“This means nothing.”

His body contradicted his words as he claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss. With one quick thrust, his tongue pushed through the seam of her lips to travel beyond. Her mind fogged, caught between the dull pain of his statement and the pleasure pounding through her in waves. She gripped his hands and hung on, reveling in the dark taste of hunger and expensive chardonnay, rocking her hips upward to meet the hard length of his body, and rubbing her nipples against his chest. She lost control in those few moments, the ageless empty void for the past years temporarily filled with the taste and feel and smell of him.

Her tongue matched every thrust as a low guttural groan escaped her throat. He ripped his fingers away from hers and slid his palms up over her belly and cupped her breasts. Her nipples tightened, and he pushed the cloth up higher. He stared at her naked breasts, and the heat in his eyes nearly burned her alive. One thumb tweaked her nipple and she cried out. His head lowered. Alexa realized this was the moment of truth. If he kissed her again, she’d surrender. Her body ached for his and she couldn’t come up with one damn good reason to stop.

The doorbell rang.

The sound ricocheted off the walls. Nick jerked upward and rolled off her like a politician caught in the middle of a sex scandal, muttering some nasty words she hadn’t known existed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She blinked at the reserved demeanor of a man who two seconds ago had ripped at her clothes. He calmly buttoned his shirt and waited for her response. Except for the bulge in his black pants, he looked entirely unaffected by the episode. Just as he had when he’d kissed her at her parents’ house.

The heavy meal lurched in her stomach and Alexa fought past the nausea. She took a deep yoga breath and sat up, pulling down her top. “Sure. Answer the door.”

He stared at her for a few moments, as if checking to see if he believed her facade, then nodded and walked out of the room.

She mashed her fingers against her lips and tried to hold it together. She’d made a monumental mistake. Obviously, her recent celibacy had caused her hormones to go insane, until any man who touched her set her off like a firecracker. His last statement flashed in her mind with a mocking finality.

This means nothing.

She heard conversation in the hallway. A tall, leggy brunette entered the room with the ease of someone who knew the house well. Alexa stared at one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen—obviously Nick’s ex.

Chorus girl legs started with black platform heels and disappeared under a pair of silk trousers. Her slim hips were encircled with a silver chain belt, and a metallic stretchy top molded to her small breasts, dipping at the neckline and exposing the top of her shoulders. Her long raven hair fell down her back in a mass of perfect waves. Not a frizzy curl in sight. Her eyes were a startling emerald color, with long, black lashes. Her full lips set off high cheekbones and she radiated an air of relaxed elegance. She looked around the room, then focused on Alexa.

Alexa knew then she was going to throw up.

The goddess turned to Nick with an air of apology. Even her voice was a husky reminder of sex. “I just had to meet her.”

With horror, she realized Gabriella not only slept with Nick, but actually cared about him. The obvious hurt shimmering in those eyes accused her woman to woman for stealing her man. Part of Alexa watched the scene from above with actual humor. It was like an episode of
The Real Housewives of New York
gone horribly wrong. At least it wasn’t
Jersey Shore
. Her crazy thoughts rocketed and she grabbed at the tendrils of her sanity.

Alexa rose and looked up at the skinny goddess who towered over her. She dug deep for composure and pretended she wore real clothes and not a gym outfit. “I understand,” she said formally.

“Gabby, how did you get past security?”

Artfully tousled curls slid over one shoulder. Gabriella reached out and pressed something in Nick’s hand. “I still had my key and the security code. After you told me you were going to marry, well, things got a bit intense.”

The words pummeled Alexa’s sensitive skin like wasp stings. To hell with this. She refused to allow Nick to continue a relationship on the side when they had signed a contract. Therefore, she needed to pretend to be the possessive wife. She swallowed hard and forced herself to smile calmly at her adversary.

“Gabriella, I’m sorry if you were hurt by our decision. It came rather fast for both of us, you know.” She laughed and positioned herself between the two. “We knew each other from years ago and when we met again, we got caught up in a whirlwind.” She pretended to look up with adoration at her current husband, though her fists ached to get one good punch in. He slipped his arms around her and his body heat burned through the thin material of her yoga pants. “I have to ask you to leave. It’s our honeymoon night.”

Gabriella studied them with an assessing air. “Odd you wouldn’t be taking a trip somewhere more…romantic.”

Nick saved her. “I have work obligations so we delayed our island getaway.”

Gabriella spoke in a clipped manner. “Fine. I’ll leave. I needed to see for myself who he chose over me.” Her expression informed Alexa she didn’t understand Nick’s decision. “I’ll be out of town for a bit. I committed to help in Haiti with some of the rebuilding.”

Oh. My. God. She was a humanitarian. The woman looked perfect, had money, and actually helped people. Alexa’s heart sank. Gabriella turned and focused on the deck of cards. “Hmmm, I always loved cards. Just not for a wedding night.”

Gabriella didn’t give them a chance to reply. With the gracefulness of a cobra, she slithered out the door without a backward glance.

Alexa jumped away from Nick at the sound of the
click
. An awkward silence settled over the room as her thoughts spun.

“I’m sorry, Alexa. I never expected her to show up at my house.”

The question rose from deep within. She swore she wouldn’t ask, but the short and bloody battle ended before it had even begun. The words sprung from her lips. “Why did you marry me and not her?”

Compared to Gabriella, Alexa lacked in every facet. Nick’s girlfriend was beautiful, elegant, and skinny. She spoke with intelligence, volunteered for worthy causes, and actually behaved with class for a woman scorned. She also cared about Nick. Why would he have hurt her?

Nick stepped back. “It doesn’t matter,” he said coldly.

“I need to know.”

Ice slithered down her spine as she caught the resolution on his face. The shutter slammed down, and suddenly she looked upon a man with absolutely no emotion or feeling. “Because she wanted more than I can give her. She wanted to settle down and raise a family.”

Alexa took a step back. “What’s so wrong about that?”

“I told Gabriella the truth from the beginning. I don’t do permanent. I never want children, and I will never be the type of man to settle down long-term. I promised myself years ago.” He paused. “So I married you instead.”

The room spun as the finality of his statement washed over her. Her husband may experience fits of passion. His touch may be warm, and his lips even warmer, but his heart was carved in stone. He’d never let a woman inside—he was too badly damaged to take a chance. Somehow, his parents had convinced him love does not exist. Even if a weak ray glimmered on the surface, he still believed there was no happy ending. Just children as casualties and a lifetime of hurt.

How could any woman fight such a hardcore belief with any hope of winning? His need for a business marriage suddenly made perfect sense.

“Are you okay?”

She decided to end the night with her finale. Nick Ryan could break her heart. Again. She needed to act cool and efficient in order to save her pride. And she must always keep her distance. Alexa schooled her features to give away nothing and pushed the pain deep inside her body until it was a tight ball in her stomach.

“Stop asking me if I’m okay. Of course I’m okay. Just don’t think you can sneak in a quickie with your ex. A deal is a deal.”

His face tightened. “I gave you my word, remember?”

“You also cheated at poker.”

The reminder of their poker game gone awry made humiliation burn through her. He shifted his feet and pushed his hand through his hair and Alexa knew the speech was coming. “About what happened—”

She gave an Academy Award-worthy laugh. “Oh, Lord, we’re not going to have a talk about
that
, are we?” She rolled her eyes. “Listen, Nick, I have to admit something. Sure, this marriage is a business arrangement, but I was wearing the dress, and it was technically our wedding night and…” She threw her hands up in surrender. “I got carried away with the whole idea. You just happened to be, well—”

“Available?”

“I was thinking more…handy. You were handy. It didn’t mean anything so let’s just blow the whole thing off, okay?”

He studied her with narrowed eyes, taking in every feature of her face. The clock ticked and she waited. A strange play of emotion flickered in his eyes, until she swore he stared at her with regret.

It must have been a trick of the light.

He finally nodded. “We’ll blame it on the wine and the full moon or something.”

She turned. “I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

She walked up the spiral staircase and slid beneath the covers, not wanting to brush her teeth or do her skin routine or change into her pajamas. She pulled the downy comforter up to her chin, buried her face in the pillow, and embraced sleep, a place she didn’t have to think or feel or hurt.

…

Nick looked at the deserted staircase. Emptiness pulsed inside him and he had no idea why. He poured the rest of the wine into his glass, adjusted the volume on the stereo, and settled onto the sofa. The opera music flowed over him and soothed his nerves.

His almost-mistake loomed before him. If Gabby hadn’t shown up, Alexa would’ve been in his bed. No more uncomplicated marriage.

Stupid.

When had his need for a woman ever caused havoc with his plans? Even when he’d courted Gabriella and they’d become intimate, he’d never been attached to the outcome. His goal was clear and necessary. But even that wasn’t enough to stop him once he’d gotten a taste of Alexa McKenzie. She wrecked his mind, made him laugh, and tempted him with the delights of her body without a single subtle manipulation. She was different from any other woman he’d ever known, and he wanted her to stay in the category of his friend. His sister’s best friend. He wanted to laugh at their past, live in harmony for one year, and say good-bye with ease.

The first lousy night he’d gone and ripped off her shirt.

He drained the glass of wine and switched the stereo off. He’d fix it. She already admitted she only wanted a warm body in her bed. Obviously, she wasn’t attracted to him, and she’d probably drunk too much wine and gotten caught up in the wedding fantasy. Just as she admitted. She wanted the money, and she missed the sex.

His stubborn mind screamed she couldn’t react so passionately to every man who touched her. He firmly ignored the warning, moved from the couch, and headed up the stairs to his own bed.

Chapter Five

Alexa looked over the crowd and wished she was back at BookCrazy, holding her Friday night poetry reading. The business dinner tonight was the turning point in Nick’s career. She knew heavy hitters swarmed the halls for the chance at glory, and Nick needed to dazzle the crowd in order to get a hearing.

She handed the hostess her coat and let Nick lead her into the packed ballroom. “I’m assuming you have a general plan of attack?” she asked. “Who are the two players you need to concentrate on?”

He motioned toward a thick cloud of cigar smoke. A tight circle of conservative businessmen surrounded a man impeccably dressed in a gray suit and silk tie. “Hyoshi Komo is building the Japanese restaurant. His vote is key to gain the third partner in the waterfront deal.”

“So, why don’t you go over there and give your pitch?” She plucked a salmon tart from the tray of a tuxedo-clad waiter and grabbed a glass of champagne from another.

“Because I don’t want to be one of the crowd. I have a different plan in mind.” She sipped the bubbly and sighed with pleasure. “Don’t get drunk.”

She huffed out a breath. “I never knew husbands were so controlling. Okay, who’s the final guy you need to impress?”

A flash of calculation crossed his face. “Count Michael Conte. He owns a successful pastry business in Italy, and decided to try his luck in the States. He’s focused on the first bakery opening at the waterfront.”

She lusted after the tray of crab cakes on her left and tried to pay attention. Nick let out a huff, grabbed two from the waiter, and slid them on the plate. “Eat.”

“Right.” For once, she agreed with his order. She popped the cake into her mouth and groaned with delight. His brows snapped together and she realized she’d made him cranky. Again.

He stared at her mouth as if he wanted the crab cake for himself. “Alexa, are you listening?”

“Yes. Conte. Bakery. I guess you expect me to mingle while do your business?”

He gave a tight smile. “I’ll work on Hyoshi for now. Why don’t you keep your eyes open for the Count? He’s tall, Italian accent, dark hair and eyes. Engage him in some conversation—it will keep you occupied.”

A small nibble of warning teased the edges of her consciousness but she was still too focused on the array of delicious appetizers. “You want me to talk to him?”

He shrugged in controlled carelessness. “Sure. Be nice. If you find out anything interesting, let me know.”

A chill skated down her spine and suddenly the scene crystallized. “You want me to spy for you?”

Impatience flicked in his voice. “You’re being ridiculous. Just relax and enjoy the party.”

“Easy for you to say. Your boobs aren’t hanging out of your dress.”

Nick cleared his throat and shifted. “If you weren’t comfortable, you shouldn’t have worn the dress.”

She stiffened. “I borrowed it from Maggie. I didn’t have an expensive dress.”

“I would have given you the money.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“Somehow, I doubt it. You didn’t sign the contract for any lofty reasons. Might as well take as much as you can get.”

A short silence settled between them. Coldness seeped through her. “You’re right. I was an idiot. Next time I’ll buy out Macy’s and send you the bill.” She turned on her heel and tossed her head. “After all, the only benefit to this marriage is your money.”

She walked away and left him staring at her back.

Jerk.

Alexa sipped a second glass of champagne and settled herself by the picture window overlooking the balcony. Nick Ryan belonged in this world—one of money and supermodels and refined dialogue. Clouds of Shalimar and Obsession blended with the heavy scent of cigar smoke. Her sight was blinded by an array of silks and satins, mostly in black or neutral; non-showy colors to set off the diamonds and pearls and sapphires she knew were all real. Everyone had tans, and she bet there wasn’t a tan line in the lot.

Alexa heaved a deep sigh. She’d dressed with care for the party and held her breath as she walked down the stairs to await Nick’s opinion. Even she knew she looked damn good in Maggie’s dress. The thought that she actually wanted to please him pissed her off.

He’d given her a thorough once over. Instead of a compliment, he’d mumbled about her choice of wardrobe and walked away. Didn’t even help her with her coat, or spare her a second glance until they got to the party. Hurt sliced deep but she punished herself for the emotion. She retained a polite aura and pretended she dressed like this every Saturday night.

Yet, as soon as he spoke about his plan for the waterfront, his face shimmered with such raw emotion her body clenched in response.

Passion. Fierce need burned in golden brown eyes. She fantasized about being the woman who incited such wanting. Once again, she was reminded Nick only experienced strong emotions for his buildings. Never women.

And never her.

She took a deep breath and finished her drink. Then launched herself through the double doors of the balcony and approached a group of women who seemed to be commenting on the sculpture. Within moments, she neatly entwined her way into the discussion, secured introductions, and delved into the world of social chatter.

…

Nick watched her stalk across the room and cursed under his breath. Hell, he’d done it again. He should’ve complimented her on the damn dress. But nothing had prepared him for her entrance as she walked down the stairs, ready for the party.

The electric blue dress dipped low in the front, clung to the edge of her shoulders, and fell down to the floor in magnificent, flowing folds of shimmering material shot with silver thread. Strappy silver sandals encased her feet, her hot pink toenails peeking out and playing hide and seek as she walked. Her hair was pinned high on her head, with corkscrew curls tumbling around her ears and caressing the back of her neck. Her lips were painted red. When she blinked, her silver shadow threw sparkles over her lashes and caught the light. He bet she’d also catch the attention of every man in the place.

He’d almost ordered her to change. This was no cool sophisticate he could control. This was a full-blown Eve, who dared a man to Hell and made a poison apple seem as sweet as candy. Instead, he’d muttered some remark under his breath and let the subject matter drop. He wondered if that was a flash of hurt in her eyes, but when he looked again, she was the same troublesome, sarcastic woman he’d married.

Anger cut through him at her constant ability to make him feel like shit. He hadn’t said anything wrong. She married for money, and freely admitted it. Why did she have to pretend to play the innocent victim in this whole mess?

He forced thoughts of his wife out of his mind and concentrated on the group of businessmen circling Hyoshi Komo. Nick sensed one important factor to secure the Japanese man’s vote.

Excitement.

Get Hyoshi Komo excited, and Nick had the job.

The last and final piece in the puzzle was Michael Conte. The famous count was well known in the business world for his charm, money, and sharp intelligence. He believed in passion, not preciseness, and behaved completely different from his other two partners. Nick hoped a lively conversation with his wife might help him gain a bit of an edge, especially since gossip pegged Conte as a womanizer. He stifled the quick flare of guilt and stepped into the group of men to speak.

…

Alexa decided it was time to find her husband.

Besides the brief time seated beside him at dinner, they’d been out of each other’s company the whole night. Humming under her breath to the strains of “I Get a Kick out of You”, she checked the room but couldn’t pick him out of the crowd. She decided to make her way down the elaborate hallway. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom.

Her heels clicked against polished marble. The sounds of the music faded, and she studied the paintings on the wall with pleasure, murmuring to herself when she found one she recognized. Her steps carried her around the next corner into a room that looked more like a gallery, filled with shelves of old, bound books carefully displayed. She held her breath as her fingers itched to caress the binding of old leather and relish the sound of crackling as she turned the pages steeped in history.

“Ah, so to get you to notice me tonight, I should turn into a book, no?”

She spun around. A man stood in the doorway, his eyes filled with a mischievous humor she knew to be a part of his core. His hair was long and caught back in a low ponytail, giving him the look of a pirate who had charmed women for centuries. His lips were full and his nose dominated his strong features in typical Italian style. Dressed in black pants, a black silk shirt, and expensive leather shoes, he exhibited a graceful, seductive air just by standing. Alexa knew immediately the man was charming, warm-hearted, and deadly to women. The thought made a smile curve her lips. She had a soft spot for womanizing Italian men. They reminded her of puffed up peacocks who inwardly wished to be kept in line by the right woman.

“Oh, I noticed you.” She turned her back and resumed her study of the books. “I knew you’d get to me by the end of the night.”

“And were you looking forward to the moment, Signorina?”

“With baited breath. So, should we use one of the bedrooms here or go back to your place?”

A shocked silence descended.

Alexa peeked over her shoulder. A mixture of disappointment and temptation carved out his features. Alexa bet he missed the idea of a chase, but didn’t want to turn down such an offer. A delighted laugh bubbled to her lips at his obvious conflict and sudden loss of confidence.

A knowing light gleamed in dark eyes. “You are teasing, no?”

She turned to face him, still laughing. “I guess I am.”

He shook his head with amusement. “You are a wicked woman to tempt a man like that.”

“You are a wicked man to think a woman would do such a thing.”

“Perhaps, you are right. A woman like you should have a husband watching at all times. Such a treasure could be stolen at any moment.”

“Ah, but if I were a true treasure, I wouldn’t be stolen easily. Certainly not by the first line thrown at me.”

He pretended offense. “Signorina, I would never insult you by thinking it would not be a long treasure hunt. You’d require a lot of work.”

“Signora,” she corrected. “I am married.”

His face pulled into a low, sad look. “Pity.”

“Somehow, I think you knew.”

“Perhaps. But let me introduce myself formally. I am Count Michael Conte.”

“Alexa McKenz—er, Alexa Ryan.”

He caught her slip-up and seemed to make a mental note. “Newly married, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you wander the hallways alone, and were not seen in the company of your husband all night.” He shook his head. “These American ways are tragic.”

“My husband is here on business.”

“Nicholas Ryan, correct?”

She nodded. “You should know him well. He’s making a pitch for the waterfront deal.”

Michael kept his face neutral. Obviously, behind his charming facade lurked a sharp businessman and she bet he knew her identity when he approached. Nick underestimated Conte if he believed a conversation would soften him. This man obviously kept business and pleasure in two separate worlds.

“I have not had the pleasure of meeting him as of yet.” He leaned in ever so slightly. His musky cologne rose in the air between them. His eyes met and held her own. She waited for a blast of sexual energy, a hum of chemistry, a note of hunger to shake her body and confirm Nick Ryan wasn’t the cause of her problems.

Nothing. Not even a spark.

With a tiny inward sigh, she resigned herself to battling her attraction for Nick and admitted maybe she still harbored a crush from her girlhood days. If Michael Conte couldn’t stir a shred of sexual emotion, she was in deep trouble.

Alexa sighed. “I think you will love my husband as much as I do,” she said.

He received her message and accepted the implication with grace. “We shall see. As for us, we will be friends, no?”

She smiled. “Yes. Friends.”

“I will accompany you back to the dining room for a cordial and you will tell me all about yourself.”

She accepted his arm and allowed herself to be led out of the library. “You know, Michael, I think I have the perfect woman for you. She’s a close friend of mine. And she may be your match.”

“You underestimate yourself, signora.” He gave a naughty wink. “I am still grieving your loss.”

She laughed as they entered the dining room, then looked up in surprise when her husband stepped in front of them. He towered over her with an intimidating air. She opened her mouth to speak, but he reached out and pulled her into his embrace. A moment passed before she was able to form the words. “Hello, darling. I was chatting with Signore Conte. I don’t think you two have formally met yet?”

The men sized each other up like they would just before a cock fight. Nick was the first to surrender. Probably for good business reasons and not anything to do with testosterone.

Nick offered his hand. “Michael, how are you? I see you’ve met my
wife
.”

Michael shook his hand and Alexa studied her husband’s expression with sheer puzzlement. Was she crazy, or did he not want her to engage Michael Conte with her sparkling conversation? Hadn’t he hinted he wanted inside information if at all possible? Now he just looked plain irritated, as if she had betrayed him.

The clean scent of soap and lemon rose from his skin. His fingers splayed around her waist and rested on the curve of her tummy. She fought back a shudder when she imagined his hand coasting just a few inches downward. How would it feel to have his fingers deep inside her, taking her to places she ached to go, but was too afraid to visit?

She re-focused on their conversation.

“Congratulations, Nicholas. Alexa tells me you are newlyweds. How difficult it must be to drag yourself to a business function, no?”

“Absolutely.” His head lowered. Her breath hitched as his lips grazed her lobe, and his nose nuzzled her ear. Her nipples grew hard and tingly. She prayed her padded bra hid the evidence of her body’s betrayal.