Claiming His Wedding Night

He nodded. ‘Of course. I just needed some fresh air. Clear my head.’ He frowned. ‘You’re dressed!’

She was wearing jeans and his dress shirt. Her face was flushed.

‘I couldn’t find you. I thought maybe you’d gone downstairs. Then I remembered about the roof garden, so I thought I’d check up here first.’

He smiled. ‘I’m fine. I’m just a bit wired. It was a big night. Lots of things to get right.’

‘You did a good job.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a pity you can’t give yourself some kind of reward.’

He took her waist in both hands and pulled her towards him. ‘I did that earlier.’

She looked up at him, her eyes fixing on his face, her expression suddenly intent. ‘Is that what I am? A reward?’

He stared past her, her words trapping him against the concrete, panic rising up inside. What the hell had he done? All those years he’d held it together, had never said a word about his parents or his childhood to anyone. Then Addie came back into his life, with her questions and her concern and her soft blue eyes, and all those barriers he’d built between the world and himself had come crashing down. And this was the consequence. This assumption that she had some right to cross-examine him, to expect answers.

But it was going to stop now.

‘I like to think of you more as an asset.’ He met her gaze levelly. ‘Which reminds me—I’m flying down to Rio tomorrow. To look at a casino. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. It’s a beautiful city. Perhaps we could go to Buenos Aires and Santiago. Maybe even Acapulco.’

Addie gazed at him warily, trying to contain the chaos and confusion inside. Something was happening. Something she didn’t quite understand. He was inviting her to go away with him and yet his manner was strangely detached, careless almost.

It had been such a tough couple of days. His parents’ party had been horrible. But for the first time she had actually understood what had made Malachi the man he was. And afterwards he had needed her—not for sex, but for comfort and support. They had seemed so close.

Only now that closeness felt like an illusion, a trick of her senses, for all evening he had deliberately chosen not to acknowledge her as his wife. And now he was inviting her to go to Rio with him. Not even as his mistress but as an asset—

Her heart bumped against her ribs as though it wa

s warning her to stay quiet. But she couldn’t run away from this conversation. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened. ‘I’d love to go to all those places. But how does that fit in with our deal?’

There. She had said it. She watched his eyes narrow fractionally.

Malachi stared at her in silence.

Their deal! A thread of anger and frustration uncoiled like a snake in the pit of his stomach. He could see the tension in her face, the doubt and unease, and he knew what she wanted him to say. But he would never say it. He couldn’t.

His chest grew tight. He felt hard, cruel, knowing how much he was about to hurt her. But he couldn’t give her what she needed.

Meeting her gaze, he smiled at her coolly. ‘I’m not sure I understand the question, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed except our location.’

He watched her eyes widen.

‘I don’t care about the location—’ she began.

‘So it’s about the money?’ he said smoothly.

It was as though he had slapped her.

‘The money? No, it’s not about the money!’ she protested.

Her face was flushed and he could see a pulse beating at the base of her throat.

‘It’s about us.’

‘“Us”?’ he repeated softly.

‘Yes. Us. You and me. Doing a tour of South America. How does that work, Malachi?’

She stared at him defiantly, but he heard the catch in her voice.