More Than a Convenient Marriage? - Page 11

He sat back, his demeanor solidifying into the man who headed so many boardroom tables, sharp and firm. Not someone you argued with.

“I didn’t appreciate what that choosiness meant until I was by your side and suddenly I was being looked at like I had superpowers because you’d picked me. Maybe it sounds weak to say my ego needed that, but it did. I went from being an upstart no one trusted to a legitimate businessman. I had had some success before I met you, but once I married you, I had self-worth because you gave it to me.”

“But—” Her heart moved into her throat. She wanted to believe him, her inner being urgently needed to believe him, but it was so far from the way she perceived herself. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m telling you why I’m fighting to keep you.”

“But people respect you. That won’t go away if we divorce.”

“Now they respect me. And perhaps that wouldn’t go away overnight, although I can guarantee I’d be painted the villain if we split. People would pin the blame on me because you’re nice and I’m not, but I’m not saying I want to stay married so I can continue using this knighthood you’ve unconsciously bestowed on me. It comes down to loyalty and gratitude and my own self-respect. I like being your husband. I want to keep the position.”

“It’s not a job.” She’d tried to treat Husband and Wife like spots on an organizational chart and it wasn’t that simple. Having a gorgeous body in a tux to escort her to fundraisers wasn’t enough. She needed someone she could call when her world was crashing in on her and she thought she was dying.

That unexpected thought disturbed her. She had learned very young to guard her feelings, never show her loneliness, be self-sufficient and never, ever imagine her needs were important enough to be met. Wanting to rely on Gideon was a foreign concept, but it was there.

Gideon was watching her like a cat, ready to react, but what would he have done if he’d come home to find her sobbing her heart out? He’d have tried to ship her into the sterile care of stiff beds and objectifying instruments.

And yet, if she had found the courage to ask, would he have stayed with her and held her hand at the hospital? Would it have made a difference if he had?

It would have made a huge difference.

Deeply conflicted, she pushed back her chair, fingers knotting into the napkin on her lap. She didn’t like feeling so tempted to try when there were so many other things wrong between them. “You make it sound so easy and it’s not, Gideon.”

“We have a few days before your brother shows up,” he cut in with quick assertion. A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “I’ve cleared my schedule to the end of the week. We’ll spend time together and set a new course. Turn this ship around.”

She wanted to quirk a smile at the shipbuilder’s oh-so-typical nautical reference, but her system was flooded with adrenaline, filling her with caution.

“What if—” She stopped herself, not wanting to admit she was terrified that spending time with him would increase her feelings for him. He was trying to make her feel special and it was working, softening her toward him. That scared her. If she knew anything about her husband, and she didn’t know nearly enough, she knew he wasn’t the least bit sentimental. She could develop feelings for him, but they’d never be returned.

What was his real reason for wanting to stay married?

“Look how much we’ve weathered and worked through since this morning,” he reasoned with quiet persistence, showcasing exactly how he’d pushed a struggling shipyard into a dominant global enterprise in less than a decade. “We can make this marriage work for us, Adara. Give me a few days to prove it.”

Days that were going to be excruciating even without a replay of today.

Nerves accosted her each time she thought of seeing Nico again and in the end, her consideration of Gideon’s demand sprang from that. She would prefer to have him with her when she met Nico again. She couldn’t explain it, but so many things, from social events to family dinners, were easier to face when Gideon was with her. She’d always felt that little bit more safe and confident when he was beside her, as if he had her back.

“You’d really move over to my brother’s house with me?” she asked tentatively.

“Of course.”

There was no “of course” about it. He showed up for the events in his calendar because it was their deal, not because he wanted to be there for her.

At least, that was her perception, but she hadn’t really asked for anything more than that, had she? He’d offered to come to the hospital each time she’d told him about another miscarriage. She was the one who’d rebuffed the suggestion, hiding her feelings, not only holding him at a distance but pushing him away, too fearful of being vulnerable to even try to rely on him.

Which hadn’t made her less vulnerable, just more bereft.

She couldn’t stomach feeling that isolated again, not when she had so much of herself on the line. Still, she wasn’t sure how to open herself up to help either.

“If you really want to, then okay. That’s fine. But no guarantees,” she cautioned. “I’m not making any promises.”

He flinched slightly, but nodded in cool acceptance of her terms.

CHAPTER FIVE

GIDEON WAS A bastard, in the old-fashioned sense of the word and quite openly in the contemporary sense. When he wanted something, he found a way to get it. He wasn’t always fair about it. His “bastard” moniker was even, at times, prefaced with words like ruthless, self-serving, and heartless.

When it came to other men trying to exercise power over him, he absolutely was all of those things. He fought dirty when he had to and without compunction.

He had a functioning conscience, however, especially when it came to women and kids. When it came to his wife, he was completely sincere in wanting to protect her in every way.

Except if it meant shielding her from himself. When Adara’s brother, “Nic,” he had called himself, had invited them to take a room at his house, that was exactly what Gideon had heard. A room. One bed.

Normally he would never take up such an offer. Given the unsavory elements in his background, he kept to himself whenever possible. He liked his privacy and was also a man who liked his own personal space. Even at home in New York, he and Adara slept in separate beds in separate bedrooms. He visited hers; she never came to his. When she rose to shower after their lovemaking, he took his cue and left.

That had always grated, the way she disappeared before the sweat had dried on his skin, but it was the price of autonomy so he paid it.

Had paid it. He was becoming damn restless for entry into the space Adara occupied—willing to do whatever it took to invade it, even put himself into the inferior position of accepting a favor from a stranger.

Irritated by these unwanted adjustments to his rigidly organized life, he listened with half an ear to the vineyard manager’s wife babble about housekeepers on vacation and stocked refrigerators, trying not to betray his impatience for her to get the hell out and leave them alone.

The nervous woman insisted on orienting them in the house, which looked from the outside like an Old English rabbit warren. Once inside, however, the floor plan opened up. Half the interior walls had been knocked out, some had been left as archways and pony walls, and the exterior ones along the back had been replaced by floor-to-ceiling windows. The remodeling, skilled as it was, was obvious to Gideon’s sharp eye, but he approved. The revised floor plan let the stunning view of grounds, beach and sea become the wallpaper for the airy main-floor living space.

“The code for the guest wireless is on the desk in here,” the woman prattled on as she led them up the stairs and pressed open a pair of double doors.

Gideon glanced into a modern office of sleek equipment, comfortable workspaces and a stylish, old-fashioned wet bar. A frosted crest was subtly carved into the mirrored wall behind it. In the back of his mind, he heard again the male voice identifying himself when he had called the hotel, the modulated voice vaguely familiar.

It’s Nic...Makricosta. I’m looking for my sister, Adara. Gideon had put the tiny hesitation down to anything from nerves to distraction.

Now, as he recognized the crest, he put two and two together and came up with C-4 explosive. A curse escaped him.

Both women turned startled gazes to where he lingered in the office doorway.

“You told me your brother had changed his name. I didn’t realize to what,” Gideon said, trying for dry and wry, but his throat had become a wasteland in the face of serious danger to his invented identity.

“Oh,” Adara said with ingenuous humor. “I didn’t realize I never...” A tiny smile of sheepish pride crept across her lips. “He’s kind of a big deal, isn’t he? It’s one of the reasons I hesitated to get in touch. I thought he might dismiss me as a crackpot, or as someone trying to get money out of him.”

Tags: Dani Collins Billionaire Romance
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