The Contract Marsh, Nicola (sad books to read txt) 📖

rich-boy’s game? Offer marriage in exchange for a roll in the sack? Because if it is, don’t worry about it.” Her voice had risen several octaves and she calmed it with effort. What was it about this guy that had her so mad she could shove him overboard without a qualm? “I don’t need a wedding band to have sex with someone.”

His formidable glower would intimidate in a courtroom. It had zero effect on her. His eyes narrowed as he leaned back against the railing as if he had all the time in the world to convince her otherwise. “That’s not what our marriage will be about.”

She’d heard enough. Our marriage? The guy had to be insane. “Take me home. Now.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say. But don’t forget you turned down the best offer you ever had to save your father’s business.”

Damn it. He knew exactly where to stick the knife in before twisting it.

“How could me marrying you save the business?”

“Simple. The carnival would have enough money to stay open into the next century.” He pronounced it like a foregone conclusion, with a glimmer of victory in his eyes.

Humiliation washed over her at his suggestion and at her momentary foolishness for entertaining the thought of marriage to the suave lawyer. “You think I can be bought?”

Her hands clenched into fists, so tight her nails bit into her palms. She almost welcomed the discomfort; it took her mind off the pain in the vicinity of her heart. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to start liking this guy. And all it had taken was dinner, a boat-ride and a few kisses. Pathetic.

“I’m not buying you. Think of it as a merger between two invested parties.”

By his sombreness, he found this ludicrous idea as unpalatable as her. Then why suggest it in the first place?

“Are you out of your mind?” Her voice had risen to a shriek and she calmed it with effort. “Marriage should be about love, respect and growing old together, not some sick business notion. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on the planet.”

Maybe she believed in a fairy tale that didn’t exist, but if and when she got hitched it would be for a ‘till-death-do-us-part’ kind of love.

“Even if it means saving your father’s dream?”

Damn him for driving that knife in harder. She let his implication sink in. Could she consider this outrageous scenario to repay her father for the years of unquestionable love and support?

Guilt lent a helping hand to Steve’s knife, embedding it deeper; if she hadn’t gone to university, maybe the carnival wouldn’t be in this position today? Rather than helping her father, she’d followed her dream to gain a business degree in the hope of one day opening her own aromatherapy shop. She’d put her own selfish desires ahead of her dad’s and she owed him. Big time.

“What do you get out of this farcical marriage? Or are you doing this out of the kindness of your heart?” His brow quirked at her bitterness. “The wealthy playboy taking pity on the down-and-out waif.”

He blew out an exasperated breath in a heavy huff. “I like you. We’d be a good team. I need a wife, you need a saviour for your family business. It makes sense.”

He made it sound so logical, so normal, when she thought he’d lost his mind.

“Let me get this straight. You need a wife and think I fit the bill?” Her laughter bordered on hysterical. “I can see why you might think that. After all, we’ve got so much in common. You like fast cars, I like slow bush-walks. You like owning a yacht, I like sharing the ocean. You make money for a living, I make people of all ages happy by bringing a little carnival magic into their lives.” She tapped her temple as if pondering a puzzle. “Yeah, I can see we’re more than compatible.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “What about our attraction?”

His low, husky voice rekindled the memory of his kisses, his hands and the desire that flowed between them, simmering beneath the surface.

“What attraction?” She couldn’t look him in the eye, wishing she hadn’t responded to him so eagerly. Her body didn’t lie and he’d read all the right signals, using it against her now.

He covered the short distance between them and held her chin, tilting her head up. “I thought you said truth was all-important.”

She couldn’t deny him. “It is. So what if there’s a few sparks between us? Doesn’t mean a thing.”

“You’re wrong.” He spoke so softly she barely heard him. “Mutual desire is a solid foundation for a marriage. Most unions I know started with less.”

“Not where I come from. Haven’t you heard of that essential ingredient, love?”

A sardonic twist of his lips made her wonder who had done a number on this guy. Maybe some woman had loved and left him? Interesting, considering that meant he might actually have a heart.

“It’s over-rated. Why not settle for respect, friendship and a sizzling sex life?”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Steve. I need my space, my freedom. Even if it did work for a while, you’d end up hating me in the long run. We’re too different.”

He pounced quickly as she wavered and she had a sudden empathy for his clients. Fixed beneath that all-seeing grey stare she felt exposed, browbeaten and defeated, all at the same time.

“Amber, I like you. From what I’ve seen, I admire your attitude to life, particularly your loyalty to your father. That’s a quality I value in anyone, especially a wife.” His thumb wandered from her chin to her cheek,