Chapter 5

The honeymoon was officially over, although it had not been a honeymoon in the first place. Marcel was true to his word, and he did not touch her for the entire seven days. He was the perfect gentleman; after that statement, he made before he went swimming, he kept his distance.

They would explore during the day, returning well after sunset. He treated her to Greek cuisine by taking her to several restaurants.

He was also very generous. As soon as her eyes touched on something, whether it was an unusual pair of boots, a fantastic summer dress with an exorbitant price tag, or costume jewelry, he would insist on paying for them, instructing her to put her card back.

He was courteous and attentive whenever they were on the road, but as soon as they returned to the villa, he would close himself in another room with the excuse that he had work to do.

They slept on the same bed, but he managed to stay on his side, careful not to touch her.

All of the sexy lingerie she had brought with her had been wasted. Her husband seemed immune to her charms or was pretending to be. Nikki decided not to make much effort to change his mind.

On the way back, he had buried himself with a complicated-looking contract and barely noticed her. Nikki went into the stateroom and slept for several hours before bathing to prepare for their arrival.

Now they were back, and, in their absence, her stuff had been transferred from her home to his townhouse.

“You can make changes if you want,” he said quietly, standing behind her as she checked out the vast closet.

“It’s fine.” Stepping into the room, she eyed the shelves and the revolving racks. “Your housekeeper did a good job.” Turning her head, she smiled over her shoulder. “I am kinda messy.”

“That’s an understatement,” he said, smiling back.

“So, you noticed.”

“Hard not to.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded denim, he rocked back on his heels and watched as she walked around the room, touching the shelves and picking up a pair of stilettos that had him wondering how she walked in something like that on Earth.

She was wearing a sarong-type dress that had been bought in Greece, the material light and floaty, with a tie around her neck. She had removed her strappy sandals, her narrow feet with the blush pink polish sinking into the carpet.

“I have some work-”

“No.”

His brows lifted at the resolute look on her exquisite face. Her hair was plaited on the left side of her head, drifting over her breast. He had seen the care she took with brushing and oiling her scalp, and he had to admit that he was fascinated by everything she did.

“No?”

“Absolutely not.” Brushing past him, she went into the room. “We just got back from our so-called honeymoon. We will be returning to the firm first thing in the morning. We are going to have dinner like a normal couple.”

“In case you have forgotten, we are not a normal couple.” Leaning against the door jamb, he folded his hands on his chest.

“Be that as it may, we are stuck in this relationship and really should make the best of it.”

“It’s late.” He jerked his head to the Ormolu clock.

“We are still on European time,” she said, throwing her head back over her shoulder as she shoved her feet into soft mules.

“You cook?” He followed her out of the room.

“I do. I don’t like to, and most of the time, I am so busy with work that I don’t get the time to do so.” Her fingers trailed over the smooth banister as she descended the spiral staircase. The decor had surprised her.

She had expected to see something that resembled the understated decor of his office at the firm, but the entire place was a mix of eclectic colors that appealed to her sense of style.

They were paintings, a mix of the absurdly rare and expensive with contemporary ones featuring landscapes. The kitchen was ultra-modern, with stainless steel appliances and a mile-wide island in the middle of the green and blue tiles.

“What’s on the menu?” Sliding onto a stool, he propped his hands on the counter and watched in wary amusement as she opened the sizeable double-sided fridge to take out a packet of shrimp.

“Shrimp Alfredo.” She decided. “Are you in?”

“Yes. What can I do?”

“Oh, you want to help?”

“I feel as if I should.”

“Why don’t you get the wine? This place is squeaky clean.”

“Mrs. Groves guards her territory like a mother bear guarding her cubs,” he told her, referring to his housekeeper. Hopping off the stool, he went to the wine cooler and selected a bottle of white wine. Selecting glasses from the cupboard over his head, he worked the cork out and poured the wine.

She was busy on the stovetop and looked like she belonged there.

“I never pictured you in the kitchen.” He handed her the glass of wine and smiled as she rolled her eyes at him as she took it.

“Mom made certain that I learned to cook.” She sipped the wine and added the pasta to the boiling water.

“She pressed the point that I would need my cooking skills.” Putting the glass on the counter, she took the cream cheese out and popped it into the microwave. “The fact that I hated anything to do with housework did not sway her one bit.”

“How is she?” he asked quietly, surprising both of them.

She was determined not to allow her emotions to veer to the surface. She hoped they would get home early enough for her to visit.

“I called while we were away, and she has only had one episode since.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She picked up her wine and took several more sips, leaning against the counter and watching the flames dance under the pot. Her face was in profile, and he admired the sculpted cheekbone and stubborn chin. She could have made it as a model, he thought whimsically.

“Nikki?” A frown touched his brow as he continued to watch her.

“Yes?” She turned her back and went to the stove to stir the pasta.

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine.” She sniffed and closed her eyes to fight the tears.

“You are not fine.” After a brief hesitation, he put his glass down and came around. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him and saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

“I am sorry.”

“Yes.” Struggling to smile, she started to turn away, but he kept his hands on her shoulders and kept her there.

“I think we should forget about dinner and go to bed.”

She was about to ask if he was going to comfort her with his body but thought better of it.

“No.” Shaking her head, she took a breath. “I am just a little emotional right now. And I promised us dinner. I am fine.” She stressed when he continued to stare at her with a frown.

“All right.” He hesitated a few seconds, and for one wild, hopeful minute, she hoped he would gather her into his arms and kiss her. Tamping down the disappointment when he turned away, she returned to the stove and busied herself.

Taking the cream cheese from the microwave, she dumped some into the mixture, and within minutes, the delectable scent filled the kitchen.

“If it’s as good as it smells, we are in for a treat,” he commented, breaking the silence.

“You be the judge.” Lifting the saucepan off the stove, she fetched plates and scooped out the creamy meal. Passing the plate to him, she gave him a fork and waited until he tasted it.

“Well?” She asked impatiently as he took his time chewing.

“It’s delicious.”

“Just ‘very good’?”

His brows lifted in amusement. “You wanted more than that?”

“How about eye-popping amazing?”

Scooping up a generous amount with his fork, he took a big bite. “The most I can offer is magnificent.”

“I can work with that.” She told him smugly as she sat down and started eating. “You are right; it is magnificent.”

He grinned at her, and the boyish look threw her on his face. She wished she could freeze this moment. They were in his pristine kitchen having a meal, and even though they would not be going upstairs to make love, she loved the ease between them.

Tomorrow, they were returning to the real world, where they would be caught up in the pressure of their jobs, and for the first time in her life, she was not looking forward to it.

She had left the firm as Nikki Johnston and would return as Nikki Hadley. There will be changes. She was a Hadley now and would no longer be welcomed in the regular lounge with the other lawyers.

She was not a senior partner but would not be part of the junior partners’ ‘clique’ either. And as much as she was not one for groups or joining them, she enjoyed the lunches and the gossip. She had even gone out casually with a few of the guys but had been firm about the fact that she did not sleep with the people she worked with.

“More wine?”

“Yes, thanks.”

He had cleaned his plate and relaxed on the stool, the glass cradled in his hands.He had not received any phone calls from her, at least, not from what she had seen while they were on their honeymoon or even when they were returning.But she had been asleep for most of the journey.

“You are going to need some clothes.” his deep voice jarred her out of her reverie.

“I have tons of clothes.”

“You are a Hadley now and will have to look the part. We happen to have an account at Romano’s. Just give Monique a call and have her send some things over. We also do much entertaining, and now that we are married, we will host our functions.”

She stared at him. “I will have to play hostess.”

He smiled at that. “Part of what you signed up for.”

She was grateful he did not tell her she had married him for his money, but she was not sure she could bear it.

“I am not going to argue; I happen to love clothes. And shoes.”

“I noticed.”

“You are one to talk; you have tons of suits, not to mention shoes. And I am guessing you don’t do your shopping?”

“Where would I get the time?” he asked with an elegant shrug. He should tell her he had work to do, but he was enjoying the time with her. He did not relish the prospect of going upstairs into the bedroom.

They would sleep on the same bed as they had been doing when they went on their honeymoon. The housekeeper was very loyal, but he knew from experience that people talk, and he wanted it to appear as normal a marriage as possible.

“You have a personal shopper?” Her brows arched as she stared at him.

“Romano offers this service, and we take advantage of it. It saves time and the annoyance of having to do the work. And it’s worth the extra cash.”

“I am sure it does.” They had finished the meal and the wine, which meant that he would suggest they head upstairs, where she would sleep on one side and he on the other. She was not looking forward to it.

“The dishes-”

“Leave them.” He stood up. “The housekeeper will take care of it when she gets here.”

“I feel bad leaving a dirty kitchen.”

“She will not mind in the least. Just leave them.”

“I will just put them in the sink.”

With a nod, he walked out of the room. Reaching for the bottle, Nikki poured a full glass, determined not to give into despair. She had been second-guessing herself since she made the deal with James. The recollection of the conversation between them filtered into her mind.

“You need the money to do what’s best for your mother. And I need my son to get married.”

“Why me?” She had asked.

His smile had been knowing, and she realized what they would be even before he said the words.

“You are in love with my son.”

“He is a very handsome man, and I am certain that most, if not all, the females in this building fancy themselves in love with Marcel.”

“My dear, you are not like them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, you are not intimidated by the fact that I am your boss. You speak your mind, and you say what you mean. Those are the kinds of qualities I would love for my son.” His smile had faded. “I assume you have heard the rumors?”

“Yes.” She had admitted bluntly.

“They have to be squashed.”

“There are other less complicated ways to do that.”

“I want Marcel to get married and settle down. And you need a stellar nursing home for your mother. It’s a good deal.”

“Except that Marcel cannot stand me.” She had pointed out.

He had chuckled. “That’s because you are the only woman who stands up to him. You are the only one who does not care what his name is.”

“True.”

“He is not going to like it, and I am the one who will feel the brunt of his ire.”

“I have a feeling that you can get past that. You are strong, Nikki, and that is the kind of strength I need in the woman who will marry my son. He is spoiled and headstrong, and I want to say it is entirely my wife’s fault, but I also have a hand in it.

He is so handsome and brilliant that we allowed him to get away with a lot. Matthew is my firstborn, but Marcel has the strength and character to run the firm when I am gone. I would like you to be by his side when that happens.”

She had asked for some time to think about it but had known from the start that she would say yes.

She had joined the prestigious law firm after working at a lesser firm and feeling underappreciated. The opportunity presented itself for her to apply to Hadley’s, and she jumped at it. She had worked her ass off to be noticed, and that had happened even sooner than she expected.

She had brought in a well-known basketball player primarily because of her connection with his mother. He had been previously represented by his cousin, who had been stealing from him, and he had wanted someone he could trust, someone who would have his best interest at heart.

Nikki approached him and sold him the idea of becoming part of the Hadley family.

“And that’s what it boils down to, Darrell,” she told him earnestly. “We are going to look out for your best interests. You are a basketball star and only need to concentrate on the game, not wonder if your money is working for you.”

He had been sold, and she brought him to talk to James Hadley.

Shaking her head, she stared moodily into the wine glass. She could go upstairs and try to seduce him, but she felt that he should make the first move. She wanted him to fall in love with her. Marcel Hadley was too handsome for his own good. He was the golden boy of his family—his father had said just that. He was spoiled, entitled, and pampered.

“Oh, Mom,” She whispered achingly. “I wish I could talk to you about my situation. You would tell me what to do and how to do it.” Lifting the glass to her lips, she finished the wine and put the dishes in the sink.

*****

What the hell was she doing downstairs for so long? He found himself wondering as he paced the length of his office. She had looked so appealing, so damned sexy, while she stood behind that stove and made the meal that he had found his heart throbbing inside his chest as he stared at her.

While they were having the meal, her unaffected candor, the way she tilted her head to the side when she was eating, was so endearing that it had a distinct effect on him.

He would have suggested they skip the meal and head straight to bed if it were under ordinary circumstances. But this was not ordinary. He had been ordered to marry her and could not get past that.

He had come upstairs to try and get rid of her enticing image out of his mind and try to bury himself under work, but that was not happening.

Simone had called him while they were having the meal, but because his phone was muted, he missed the call. Her message was tearful, and she demanded to see him tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure he would do that. He was a married man, and even though the marriage had been arranged, they were still legally bound by each other. And Simone was still married.

In Greece, he had been so aware of the woman next to him on the bed that it had almost been impossible for him to fall asleep.

He had pretended to be absorbed with work so that he would not have to prolong the torment of being next to her for so many hours each night. He had distinctly told her that he was not sleeping with her, but he was punishing himself.

He wanted her, he acknowledged. Even if he closed his eyes, the image of her face—the large dark brown eyes, the lush bottom lip, the cute little nose—was imprinted on his brain as if it were seared there permanently.

He had carefully turned around one night and tortured himself even more as he watched her sleep. The covers had slipped low enough for him to notice the thin lace she had donned. He couldn”t help but notice how the material contrasted against her caramel complexion.

His head jerked up when he heard the doors being opened, and feeling wholly foolish and insecure, he went behind his desk, opened the thick document, and pretended that he was buried in work. But he did not have to bother.

He had not thought to close the door of his office, and he had caught a glimpse of her walking into the room, but his vision was obscured when she went further into the room. He could hear her slamming drawers close as she got ready for bed; even the slight sound was irritating to his already overburdened mind.

The bed was big, large enough to hold several people comfortably. But he had no idea how he was going to be able to be next to her and not want her. It had been tough in Greece while they were on their honeymoon, and he felt it would be doubly hard now that they were back home. She was in his space, and it felt damned strange.

He had never lived with a woman before. They would share the same bathroom, and he was beginning to realize little things about her. She was very messy and had the annoying habit of dropping clothing items everywhere. He was neat, and even though he had grown up with maids and nannies, he was taught to pick up after himself.

Pushing away the document, he rose and went to the cabinet to pour himself a glass of brandy. He would wait a little bit before turning in.