“What? Why?”
“It feels like you’re looking right at me.” A hand gripped his arm and pushed. “Please, do it. Okay?”
Chuckling, he rotated obediently, until his back was toward her, and gathered his thoughts before beginning his explanation. Now more than ever, he regretted his lack of sight. Not because he couldn’t spy on her as she changed clothes. But because he wanted to gauge her reaction as he revealed how the wedding plans had developed with Carina. What if she despised him for it? He might lose her anyway. The one thing he couldn’t do was tell her he was doing it to gain control of the breakthrough CF drug Ellie needed. He wanted her to stay, but not because she felt obligated.
He heard clothing rustling behind him.
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“I’ve dated Carina a few times, starting about a year ago.”
“I remember. I made the initial appointment. She came to the estate, supposedly to talk about an investment opportunity. I was surprised when you actually went on a few dates. I was happy for you.”
“You were?”
“Of course I was. I wanted you to date and get married and have a normal, happy life. But I have to tell you, Carina’s not good enough for you. She doesn’t love you.”
He could tell by her stiff speech she was getting riled up. He had to keep her calm.
“I know that. I don’t love her either.”
“Then why are you getting married?” she shouted.
So much for keeping her calm. “I—”
“It’s hard enough to make a marriage work when two people love each other.”
“It only has to work for a short time. We’re only getting married to exchange stocks in our companies. Then we’ll get divorced.”
Silence. Then the bed springs creaked with weight, and the sound of Velcro ripping free rent the air. Still, she didn’t reply. Was she shocked? Disgusted? He started to rotate toward her.
“Stop. Turn back around. I’m not finished changing.”
“But… what are you thinking?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Her words were terse. The creaking of the bed was followed by the rustle of clothing. “Why do you have to get married at all? Why isn’t it strictly monetary, like all your other deals?”
“Because her dad put a clause in her stock ownership to keep them in the family. My attorney looked at the contract, so I know she’s not lying about it.”
The bed creaked again, more Velcro sounds, and her voice came from a standing position. “If you’re getting a divorce, the stocks aren’t staying in the family. Makes no sense.”
“Originally, the stock ownership was provisional until we’d been married for three years. I guess he hoped, by then, the marriage would last.”
“Originally?”
“Carina got a call from her father tonight. Someone appears to be attempting a hostile takeover, so he’s desperate enough to change the provisional period to three months. Guess he prefers me in charge to an unknown, even if I’m not in the family.”
“Something’s fishy. Too convenient. A sudden need to rush the marriage when we happen to be in Las Vegas.” The crutches clinked and her voice shifted. “You’re not usually that trusting, so I think you have more feelings for Carina than you’re admitting.”
“I don’t trust her either. We did the marriage license thing just to put her off while we check out her story.” He pulled the folded license out of his pocket and held it out toward her, giving it a shake to attract her attention. “Finn told you about this, right? That he put the guys’ names on one license and you and Carina on the other?” What if she didn’t know about Finn’s plan? Maybe she wants to marry Finn.
“Yeah, he told me. But I don’t get it, Bran. If you aren’t in love with her and you don’t trust her, why marry her? No stocks could be worth that much. And I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I can tell you she doesn’t love you either.” Soft thuds of the crutches on the carpet were followed by the sound of a drawer opening.
“I’m not. I’m not marrying Carina. So you don’t need to resign.” He stuffed the paper back in his pocket. Finn had probably shown it to her while they were at the clerk’s office.
“No, no, no. Don’t put this on me.” The drawer slammed shut. “I didn’t mean to give you an ultimatum, like it’s her or me.”
“I’d already made the decision before you threatened to quit. Now, I’m playing along with her, trying to figure out her game.”