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

The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, the one that had recently driven her wild with wanting him, only served to infuriate her further. “Lose the tantrums. Otherwise, you’ll get what’s coming to you and long over-due, if you ask me.”

“And what’s that?”

“A spanking.” The hint of a smile turned into a fully-fledged grin as he surveyed his hand, his obvious tool of choice to administer her punishment.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her heart thudded as he took a step towards her, his towering presence dwarfing everything in the tiny van.

“Don’t tempt me.” He ran a fingertip lightly down her cheek, quelling her anger with the sudden tenderness in his eyes. “When do you want to get married?”

She bit back her first retort of ‘so I actually get a say in any of this?’ She knew he wasn’t a man used to asking other people’s opinions and what it must’ve cost him to consult her.

“How about tomorrow?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You certainly don’t waste any time.”

“For my father. The sooner I can help him, the better.” She felt better saying the words out loud, for she’d be damned if she let Steve know the other reason behind her eagerness to wed. Her traitorous body had got her into enough trouble for one day.

He stiffened and stepped away. She missed his touch. “Fine. How about three o’clock at the hotel’s gardens?”

“Sounds good to me.” She paused for a moment, struck by a thought that could threaten their plans and wondering why it hadn’t entered her head before now. “What about the legalities?”

As he leaned back and rested his hands on a cupboard, his biceps flexed beneath the cotton of his shirt and she knew exactly why she’d been distracted from the practicalities.

“It’s taken care of. All you need to do is turn up tomorrow. Leave the rest to me.” He spoke with precision and she had a glimpse of the power behind the man. It was something she couldn’t define but it was there, lurking behind the smooth facade, a hint of controlled authority that wouldn’t be swayed.

She swallowed, trying to ease the dryness of her throat and wondering what the heck she was doing, getting involved with a man like Steve Rockwell.

“What about the future?” She kept her voice steady, though she wanted to rant and rave at the injustice of placing her trust in a man who could break her in a second. They hadn’t discussed any important issues, like where they would live or whether she would still work at the carnival.

“We’ll live in Brisbane. I’ll be opening a new branch of the law firm there. Though we need to fly down to Melbourne shortly, to visit my grandmother.” He said it as a matter of fact, as if she should have known all along.

“I’m still going to work,” she said, wondering if he expected her to be the epitome of a rich lawyer’s wife, attending charity events, playing tennis and ‘doing lunch’. No way, no how.

Thankfully, he nodded. “As you wish. I assumed you’d be helping your father to get this place back on track.”

“You seem to do a lot of that. Assuming, that is.” And she wished he wouldn’t; it effectively removed any control she might have.

“It’s a part of what I do. I’m not about to change now.”

By the set of his shoulders and the frown on his face, he believed it. Now all she had to do was set about changing his mind.

He straightened and fixed her with a direct stare. “I’ll send the limo for you at two-thirty tomorrow. See you at the altar.”

“I thought it was a bride’s prerogative to be fashionably late? Isn’t two thirty a bit early?” She quelled the sudden fear. When he’d said ‘altar’, the dream had become a startling reality. This man was her future husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer. Those vows should mean something, not signify some empty business arrangement based on attraction. What was she thinking?

“I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

With that, he opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine, leaving her feeling sick.

Mrs. Steve Rockwell. It had a hollow, false ring to it and she wondered if he would agree to her keeping her maiden name. By his stance on everything else, she seriously doubted it.

Mum, I hope I’m doing the right thing. She sent a silent plea heavenward, needing all the reassurance she could get. She often ‘spoke’ to her mother, finding it strangely comforting, though she knew even her liberal-minded mother might have had a bit of trouble accepting what her impulsive daughter was about to do.

With a jumble of thoughts swirling through her head, she opened the wardrobe and took out the dress that hung there, wrapped in layers of plastic. When she’d tried it on yesterday, a sense of peace had enveloped her, almost as if her mum had stood behind her and hugged her. It had felt right, wearing the dress her mum had worn when she’d married her father all those years ago and she wished her marriage would turn out half as well.

Steve’s image popped into her mind, the way he’d looked when he’d taken her out on the boat and proposed. Heck, did he know she was already half in love with him, arrogance be damned?

She hoped not. Her life would be complicated enough without that added burden. Falling in love with Steve? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

But what if she already had?

* * *

Steve had never believed in fairy tales. There had been no tooth fairy, no Santa Claus, no loving mother who waited with milk