Bought For Love

“Yeah.” I smiled, thinking of her and how wonderful she’d been.

“You don’t talk about your family often.”

His tone of voice didn’t change in any way, but I felt his body stiffen. It was the tiniest clenching of his muscles that I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t wrapped under his arm, and I looked up at him quizzically. His bright eyes were slightly dimmed, and my heart clenched when I realized it was my fault.

Talking about my parents made me sad because of their reaction to my decision to move to New York. There was also a lot of guilt because I’d felt like it was impossible to invite them to our wedding. If they’d found out I was marrying a stranger, they would have wanted to drag me home and protect me. I knew they meant well, and it hurt me not to share more of my life with them. I still hadn’t gotten up the nerve to tell them I’d gotten married, but I’d figure out a way to make it up to them later.

Even with the bittersweet pain of missing my grandmother, since she died shortly after she gave me the earrings, it was easier to talk about her if that’s what it took to make him happy.

“My grandmother died a couple of years ago,” I started.

He guided me in front of his body and tilted my chin up so he could look in my eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You don’t have to talk about her if it’s too difficult.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured, offering him a smile. “My grandmother was amazing, and she deserves to be remembered. Her stories shared, not forgotten.”

“I’d love to hear them, then.”

I tugged on his hand and led him out of the closet. “I’ll tell you about some of my favorite memories of her during the ride to the event.”

And that’s exactly what I did. I shared with Miles about how my grandmother taught me to bake. The stories she used to read to me when I was little. About the earrings I was wearing tonight, and how my grandfather had given them to her on their wedding day.

“Thank you, Emma,” Miles whispered in my ear as he bent down to take my hand and help me out of the back of the limo.

“You’re welcome,” I whispered back as I stepped out onto the red carpet lining the walk to the stairs of the museum where the charity gala was being held. “Wow.”

“You’re the one who deserves that kind of reaction,” he murmured, his arm linked with mine as we walked up the steps. “As time passes, you’ll get used to all of this crap. The red carpets, gourmet meals, charity auctions. But I’ll never get used to having you on my arm. In my bed. As my wife.”

“Isn’t that sweet?”

My head jerked up at the sarcastic drawl, and I saw a tall, blond ice goddess standing at the top of the steps. Her stick-straight hair was pulled away from her face but hung in a shiny mass to her shoulders. The emerald-green gown wrapped around her thin body was almost an exact match to her perfectly made-up eyes.

Her gaze moved from Miles and scanned me from head to toe. Her scarlet-painted lips tilted up in a smug grin. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” She glided towards me and held out a hand. “I’m Eva Pemberly, of the Greenwich Pemberlys. And you are?”

“Emma Deveraux.”

Her smile grew bigger. “Emma,” she echoed, turning to Miles. “I should probably be flattered that you replaced me with a woman whose name so closely resembles mine, but really, Miles…she’s barely even the generic replacement for me. You could have at least given it a little more effort and found someone who was more socially acceptable than a short, plump, little nobody. Maybe a somebody who lacked the looks to catch anyone better, even with the right pedigree. Or an utterly stunning woman without a penny to her name who was willing to sell herself into marriage to you.”

I gasped at how close she’d come to guessing how Miles and I had ended up married. I wasn’t the “utterly stunning woman” she’d mentioned, but I’d practically sold myself into my marriage.

“That’s enough, Eva,” Miles growled, pulling me behind him as he stepped forward. “Your insecurities are showing.”

“Insecurities. As if I’m the one who has anything to be insecure about,” she huffed, twirling around and storming away.

“Who was that?” I asked softly as I moved to Miles’ side.

“Nobody important,” he tried to assure me as he guided me inside the museum.

I lifted an eyebrow and poked him in the side.

“Eva’s an ex of mine.”

“I’m not dumb, Miles,” I hissed. “I kind of already figured that out myself with her whole spiel about replacing her.”

He tugged me through a group of people towards a hallway off to the side, crowding me against the wall when we were alone again. “Eva was a mistake. A misguided attempt on my part to be with the person I thought society expected me to be with. The best thing that ever happened to me was that relationship falling apart. I took the time to screw my head on straight and figure out that I don’t give a damn what anyone else expects of me. What I want is what’s important. And I want you.”