Louise Fuller - Claiming His Wedding Night

He was even more beautiful than she remembered, with his dark hair falling across his forehead, that sculpted poet’s profile and those eyes...the grey shifting and darkening like a constantly changing winter sky. He looked cool and relaxed in a tailored charcoal-grey suit that was a shade lighter than his eyes—and worth every cent of the billions of dollars he was rumoured to have made from his gaming empire.

Her head was spinning; the noise of the room sounded distant and distorted. But even though it was clear he still had the power to throw her off balance, she damn well wasn’t going to reveal that fact to Malachi.

Her hands curling into fists, she walked purposefully towards him and stopped in front of his table. Her back felt as if it was burning beneath the combined female envy in the room, but her blue gaze was cool and scornful as they stared at one another in silence.

It was she who spoke first. ‘You wanted to have lunch with me.’ Her voice was husky, her cheeks flushed with colour. ‘So here I am.’

‘Yes, you are,’ he said softly. He stared in undisguised appreciation at the clinging black dress. Or rather at the swelling curves beneath the fabric. ‘You look incredible, sweetheart. Life must be treating you well. I feel like I should be the one asking you for money.’

Addie lifted her chin. ‘Who knows? Maybe one day you will be.’ She rested one slim hand on her hip. ‘So, are you going to ask me to sit down? Or have you changed your mind?’

‘In that dress? Not a chance. Come and join me.’ Patting the seat beside him, he grinned as, ignoring his gesture, Addie sat down on the opposite side of the table.

As though her arrival had triggered some hidden switch, not one but two waiters immediately appeared beside them, and her shoulders lowered with relief as the daunting prospect of being on her own with him was temporarily postponed. But her reprieve couldn’t last for ever and finally they were alone.

‘I just want to make it clear that I’m paying,’ she said quickly. Their eyes met—hers the same, rebellious blue as a teenage tattoo, his glinting, grey. ‘It’s only fair.’

His gaze fixed on her face and he stared at her thoughtfully, then shrugged. ‘Fine. You can buy me lunch. But I warn you, I’m not a cheap date.’

Addie stilled. ‘This is not a date, Malachi. And that kind of remark is why I’m buying lunch. So there aren’t any mixed messages.’

He grinned. ‘You know me, sweetheart. The only thing I like mixed are my cocktails. Speaking of which—at least let me buy you a drink. Do you still like Bellinis?’

She swallowed, feeling a stabbing within. And then a softness. ‘You remembered...’

His eyes never left her face. ‘Of course. I remember everything about you and our time together.’

The softness hardened and she shivered inside. Was that what their marriage had been to him? A portion of hours and days? Her heart began to beat faster.

‘Good!’ She swallowed. ‘Then you’ll remember how important my charity is to the children it helps. And, no, thank you. I don’t want a Bellini.’

He waved a hand across the table at her negligently.

‘Some wine, then? Or is my presence intoxicating enough for you?’

Tucking her legs beneath the table, Addie forced herself to meet his cool grey gaze. ‘I don’t drink at business meetings.’ she said primly.

‘Neither do I,’ agreed Malachi, lifting the glass of wine to his lips. ‘It’s very unprofessional. But fortunately I don’t class our meeting as anything other than a cause for celebration.’

She stared at him blankly. ‘Celebration! I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Of course you do.’ Beneath the restaurant’s lights his eyes looked lighter, almost silver. ‘It was you who reminded me.’ He held out his glass and tapped it against her tumbler of water. ‘Happy Anniversary, sweetheart!’

Addie felt her skin grow cold. His eyes were glittering with an emotion she didn’t fully understand and, quickly turning her head, she fixed her gaze on the view of the ocean just as their meals arrived.

The food was both delicious and beautifully presented, but Addie found it impossible to enjoy her lobster salad.

‘Even if it is our anniversary,’ she said coldly, ‘I hardly think that’s relevant to today’s discussion. Personally I’d be happier if we just stuck to the real reason why we’re both here.’

‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘If it makes you more comfortable.’

Addie glowered at him. Comfortable! As if!

The only reason she was still sitting there was the children and her colleagues. Otherwise, had she not chosen to wear such ridiculously high heels, she would happily have turned round and run as fast as possible from that deceptively guileless face.

But breathing out slowly, she pressed her nails into the palms of her hands. At least she looked the part. Even if it had meant selling her bike. The important thing was that while she might need his help, he didn’t need to know that. She looked cool and classy and in control. Not like a woman looking for a favour.

Now all she had to do was stay focused. But, glancing across the table, she felt a pulse leap in her throat as she looked up into his glittering grey gaze.

‘You’re very quiet, sweetheart. I thought you wanted to talk?’ Lolling back against the leather upholstery, Malachi gazed at her intently.

She shrugged. ‘I was just thinking.’

‘Then I should probably be leaving!’ His eyes, light and dancing, fixed on her face even as the corners of his mouth began to tilt upwards. ‘A quiet woman is like a hand grenade. A quiet woman thinking is like a hand grenade with the pin pulled out.’

His curving smile waited for her reply and she licked her lips, her heart fluttering beneath his scrutiny.

And then, just in time, she remembered that there was an actual reason for her being there—other than just to gawp at Malachi’s cheekbones. Feeling clumsy, hoping he didn’t suspect the reason for her distracted behaviour, she pulled out a folded piece of paper from her bag and handed it to him.

‘That’s the original agreement.’

He took it and opened it. His face was impassive as he scanned the contents. Finally he looked up at her. ‘It’s strange, don’t you think? The two of us? Together again?’

She’d been expecting him to refer to the letter. Instead, caught off guard, she had to force down the tangled mass of emotion that reared up inside her in response both to his words and the probing focus of his eyes.

‘Th-there is no “two of us”,’ she said shakily. Her eyes darted away from him and round the room, seeking something solid and reassuring. Fixing on two burly businessmen at the bar, she felt her shoulders relax slightly. ‘And we’re not together.’

He smiled slowly. ‘Then why are you scared?’

Her temper flared. ‘I’m not scared.’ She hesitated. ‘Just a little apprehensive, I suppose.’ She met his gaze defiantly.

‘Would it help if I promised not to drop my napkin?’ he said softly.

A warm tide swept over her skin, as hot and strong as a hurricane. But no hurricane could ever be as devastating or dangerous as Malachi King, she thought wildly. Her cheeks burning, she fixed her eye on the smooth white linen tablecloth. But she could feel his eyes, dark and implacable as granite, seeking her out.

‘I’d rather you didn’t bring that up now.’ Her skin felt as if it was on fire; her heartbeat felt so loud she was surprised the other diners hadn’t stopped eating to stare at her.

‘When would you like me to bring it up?’ he asked smoothly.

‘N-never!’ Her voice was trembling and she shook her head. ‘It’s just not appropriate!’