Louise Fuller - Blackmailed Down The Aisle

She held her breath as his eyes narrowed into knifepoints, and she knew he was gauging how much he needed to tell her. Finally he shrugged and met her gaze, cool and back in control again.

‘I’m trying to close a deal. For a building I want to buy. The owner is old-fashioned...sentimental. He’ll only sell to someone he trusts. Someone he believes shares his values. I need him to trust me and for that to happen he needs to see my warmer, softer side. Marriage is the simplest way to demonstrate that to him.’

She breathed out slowly. There was a kind of warped logic to his argument.

‘But surely I can’t be your only solution? What if you hadn’t found me in your office? What would you do then?’

His eyes were watching hers. ‘But I did find you. And you’re perfect.’

Her heart thudded against her ribs and she felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘I—I am?’

Rollo felt his groin grow hard, his body responding not only to her tentative question but to the flush of colour in her cheeks, the pulse jerking at the base of her throat. She was like a flint striking, sparking against him, catching fire.

And fire burned.

Ignoring the twitch of lust in his groin, he breathed out slowly. ‘Yes. You’re single. And you’re an actress. But primarily, and most important, I can trust you to be compliant.’

Daisy knew she had gone white.

‘Compliant?’ Her hands were trembling.

‘Out-of-work actresses are ten a penny. But I need someone I can depend on. And as your brother’s freedom and future are in my hands I’m confident I can rely completely on your discretion.’

He sounded so calm and controlled that she thought she might throw up. Was this how people got to the top in business? By turning every situation to their advantage no matter what the collateral damage?

‘But, of course, if you’d rather take your chances with the police...’

He let his sentence drift off as Daisy stared past him. She felt bruised, battered and beaten.

‘How long would it be for?’ she said dully.

‘A year. Then we’d go our separate ways and the slate would be wiped clean.’

She flinched inside. He made it sound so simple. The perfectly packaged, one-use-only relationship. An entirely disposable marriage. And maybe it was that simple for him, for clearly his brain worked in an entirely different way from hers.

Her heart contracted. But it was so different from the marriage she’d always imagined. Given her failed romantic history, she knew she was more likely to win a starring role on Broadway, but what she wanted was a relationship based on love and trust and honesty. Just like her parents’.

Only that was the polar opposite of what she and Rollo would have if she agreed to this stupid fake marriage.

The thought made her feel utterly alone.

Pushing back her shoulders, she lifted her head, a flare of defiance sparking inside her. ‘And you’re okay with that?’ she asked flatly. ‘It’s how you always imagined your marriage?’

Leaning back, Rollo swivelled his chair to face the window. He knew that her question was more or less rhetorical. But the blood was beating in his veins with swift, hot, unreasonable fury.

For a moment he gazed out across the city, silently battling the sickening panic and feeling of helplessness stirred up by their conversation. The short, expurgated answer was no—it wasn’t the way he’d imagined his marriage. Not because it would be fake and devoid of feeling, but because he had never once imagined being married at all.

Why would he? He knew for a fact that people weren’t capable of being satisfied with just one partner. And he certainly didn’t believe marriage represented love or devotion.

His mother’s behaviour had proved that to him over and over again, slowly destroying their family and his father in the process.

But marriage to Daisy would be altogether different, he reassured himself. It would be carefully controlled by him and there would be no risk of pain or humiliation, for that would require an emotional dependency that would be absent from their relationship. In fact, their lives need only really intertwine in public.

Feeling calmer, he turned to face her.

‘I can’t say I’ve expended much mental energy on the matter. Personally, I’ve never seen the point of making such an emotionally charged and unrealistic commitment to somebody.’

Daisy glared at him. ‘How romantic! Do you say that to all the women you date or just the ones you blackmail?’

He stared at her impassively, but his eyes had darkened in a way that made the breath jam in her throat.

‘I never promise anything to anyone I date,’ he said, his eyes lingering on her face. ‘But you don’t need to worry on their account. They want what I want. They’re independent women who enjoy having sex. With me. And I can assure you they’re perfectly satisfied with the arrangement.’

Daisy caught her breath.

‘I’ll just have to take your word for that,’ she said tautly. ‘And, just so we’re clear, if I do become your wife, I’ll play my part in public but our relationship will not extend to the bedroom. You can satisfy yourself in private.’

Watching the hard flare of anger in his eyes, she felt a sudden spasm of hope. Rollo might have arrogantly assumed he could conjure up a marriage between two strangers—strangers who despised one another—but clearly he hadn’t thought everything through.

So maybe it still wasn’t too late to change his mind.

Folding her arms in front of her chest, she tried to replicate the cool, flat expression that was back in place on his face.

‘Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but are you really sure we can pull this off? Think about it. We’re complete strangers. And we’re never going to have sex. So just how are we going to fool everyone into thinking we’re some loved-up couple who can’t keep their hands off one another?’

She felt her stomach twist. It was a perfect description of her dream relationship. The one she had tried so hard—and failed—to create with each and every one of her boyfriends.

‘I don’t think that’ll be a problem.’

His words bumped into her thoughts and her pulse jerked as abruptly he got to his feet, his body disturbingly, powerfully muscular and male in the confines of his office.

‘Then I think you’re being really naive,’ she said with more confidence than she felt as he walked slowly around the desk towards her. ‘I could probably pull it off. In public at least. But I’m a trained actress. What you’re asking is not as easy as it looks. Think of all those films that bomb at the box office because the two leads don’t have any chemistry—’

She broke off as he stopped in front of her and held out his hand.

‘We need to leave,’ he said quietly. ‘The security teams will be changing shift soon, and I think we’ve both answered enough awkward questions already tonight.’

Ignoring his hand, she stood up—but instantly she regretted it, for suddenly they were facing one another, only inches apart. Gazing up at him, she felt her skin grow tight and hot.

‘What were we talking about?’ he said softly. ‘Oh, yes. Our chemistry.’

‘It’s just not there,’ she said hastily, trying not to breathe in the clean, masculine smell of his body. ‘And, believe me, you can’t just manufacture it for the cameras. It has to be real.’

Rollo let a silence build between them. He wondered if she realised that her body was contradicting her words. That her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted invitingly.

Scrutinising her face, he frowned. ‘Well, this thing won’t work unless we can convince people.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder... How would we test it? If this was a real acting job, I mean.’