Claiming My Bride of Convenience

She shrugged, her gaze sliding away from mine. ‘I don’t know. Because you see me as a challenge? Or perhaps a novelty?’

She turned back to me, eyes flashing.

‘Neither is a good reason for going the distance with someone—and I’m not talking about physically.’ A rose-pink blush tinted her cheeks. ‘Or at least not just physically.’

I tried not to feel offended by her words and failed. Did she honestly think me so shallow that I would pursue marriage simply because it felt like a challenge? I was almost tempted to inform her that I’d had plenty of such challenges, and she was not so much of one as she seemed to think. But I didn’t. Because it wasn’t strictly true. The women I’d been with had not been challenges at all—except perhaps in the challenge not to have me become bored.

Daisy was as different from them as the sun was from the rain-swept sea—so did that mean she was a challenge? In the space of a few seconds I’d managed to tie myself in mental knots, and I didn’t like that, either.

‘You don’t even have a response?’ Daisy shook her head, disappointment darkening her eyes to the colour of whisky. ‘Figures.’

‘Figures?’ I’d most certainly had enough of her insults. ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

‘That I’m right.’

‘You sound disappointed.’ Which was something, at least. Vindication would have been much harder to stomach. ‘I thought we were going to talk about the particulars of our marriage, not whether my intentions were honourable or not—although I have to confess, they must be honourable, because we’re talking about marriage.’

‘We’re already married.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Fine.’ She folded her arms under her bosom, highlighting that asset to becoming effect. ‘What are the particulars?’

‘I asked you first what you would expect from a marriage such as ours.’

‘Ah, yes, that’s where we started. With your prevarication. You’re afraid that I’ll be completely appalled by what you expect, and how it differs from what I expect, so you want to suit your answers to my concerns. But of course you don’t know what they are.’

There was entirely too much truth in that statement. ‘I’m merely curious.’

‘So am I. So perhaps I should tell you what I think you expect.’

Her eyes and her smile both gleamed, and I wondered if she was actually enjoying this unexpected repartee. There was a prickle to her, as well as a bite. I think she liked baiting me, the she-devil, but I knew I had the ability to hurt her, and I found I didn’t like that at all. That was one power I did not wish to have.

‘Fine. Tell me what I expect.’

Daisy leaned back in her chair, her lids dropping to half mast as she surveyed me with a sleepy consideration I found beguiling. I arranged my features into a neutral expression of bland interest and waited for what I suspected would be a damning verdict.

‘First off, you want a wife in your bed. It seems you’re a man of voracious appetite in that regard, so I imagine you want a wife in your bed with some regularity.’

Her words alone were enough to make me shift in my seat, desire arrowing through me in piercing, uncomfortable points.

In my bed with some regularity.

Yes, indeed—I could get on board with that.

‘And I think she’d need some imagination.’

Colour pinkened her cheeks but she didn’t look away. Now it was getting interesting. I didn’t think she’d be saying any of this if she hadn’t had several glasses of wine.

‘Some,’ I agreed, inclining my head. ‘But I am not a man of wild

tastes.’ I smiled, letting my gaze linger. ‘Not too wild, at any rate.’

Now she did look away, shaking her head. ‘I’m afraid I have very little of either experience or imagination when it comes to...that.’

‘I’m sure you’re eminently teachable.’

‘That’s not the point I’m trying to make, Matteo.’ She turned back to me, her face fiery. ‘That’s not it at all.’