Chapter 1
DAISY
CHAPTER ONE
A few days later
Staring at the thirty page contract before me, my trembling fingers grip the Montblanc fountain pen as Carl Gunn eyes me from the opposite side of his walnut desk. His silver hair is perfectly styled, his expensive suit tailored to fit his lean physique. He’s an austere man, who has no qualms marrying off his son, Dalton, in an arranged marriage for the sole purpose of ensuring the continuation of the Gunn family fortune and, more importantly, their family line.
A small part of me regrets not choosing a more intimidating outfit instead of my bright blue dungarees and long-sleeved top with tiny silver stars stitched onto the fabric, but I wanted to be comfortable given I’ve just started my blasted period. Nothing like a heavy flow to brighten up an already shitty day. Besides, I doubt my quirky fashion choices have any impact on whether or not I am suitable for his son, who also happens to be my older brother's best friend and someone I have disliked since our first encounter as children.
Despite my late father and Carl being friends, he still managed to manipulate me into signing this contract. I had my own reasons for agreeing to this arranged marriage, of course, but deep down, we all know that Carl could have forgiven my brother's debt–a mere eight point five million pounds is nothing to a billionaire like him.
“Is there an issue, Daisy?” Carl asks, his silver brow raised expectantly as I glance up from the contract to meet his waiting gaze.
“No issues, everything looks to be in order,” I reply, flicking my gaze to Dalton, who stands with his back to us both, staring out at the snow-covered manicured gardens of their magnificent Highwood Manor estate.
Truth be known, I’ve barely taken in a word. All I care about is releasing my brother from his debt so that he’s free to be with the woman he loves, and no longer forced to act as an enforcer to the families that run this town. After everything Drix has done for me, it’s the least I could do, and whilst I have my own complicated reasons for signing this contract, I’m willing to marry a man I hate so my brother’s future happiness is secured.
“Good, then if you wouldn’t mind,” he replies, checking his gold Rolex watch for the time. “Dalton and I have business to discuss.”
"I'm sure you do," I reply snarkily.
Dalton stiffens, but still remains facing away from me. The winter sunlight streams through the window and illuminates his auburn hair in rich red and mahogany hues, contrasting sharply with his deep navy suit. For once he doesn't have a sarcastic retort ready, which is probably for the best since I’m really not in the mood.
"You'd better get used to the intricate workings of this family, because as soon as you sign this contract, you will need to act accordingly," Carl threatens, his voice dripping with authority.
I bite the inside of my cheek, tasting blood as I try to suppress the resentment bubbling inside of me, and remind myself why I’m doing this. Right now, playing along is the only way to secure Drix’s freedom, but if Carl thinks for one second I will kowtow to his expectations, he has another thing coming. I've agreed to marry his son and provide him with an heir, I have not agreed to a personality transplant.
“Of course,” I reply just as tersely, pressing the tip of the fountain pen against the paper, knowing full well that as soon as I sign this contract there’s no going back. I will become Dalton’s fiancé from the moment the ink hits the paper, and in a little over six weeks we will be married.
“There,” I say, placing the fountain pen back onto the table, and pushing the contract towards Carl.
He nods, a small smile pulling up his lip as he motions for Dalton’s attention.
“Son, now you.”
Turning on his feet, Dalton strides to my side, completely ignoring me and focussing solely on the contract where my signature has barely dried. Leaning over, he reaches for the pen, his arm brushing against mine as he signs with a quick flourish.
“It’s done,” he grinds out, straightening up.
“Excellent!” Carl grins, turning his attention back to me. “You will move in with us in a week’s time. I’m assuming that’s enough time to move your personal belongings over and to say your goodbyes?”
I gasp. “A week?”
“It’s in the contract,” he reminds me. “I will be hosting a party officially announcing your engagement a week after your arrival. Of course, I will be delighted to extend an invitation to your brother, his lady friend and her son, assuming she decides to stay, of course. I’m sure it can’t be easy learning how he got caught up in such a debt in the first place.”
“Drix, Lia and Toby will be there,” I snap back, wishing I could wipe the smirk off his face.
“Of course they will.”
“They can be happy now. No thanks to you,” I add.
Carl laughs. “I think you’ll find it’s all thanks to me. This arrangement benefits everyone, no? Drix is now free of his debt. Dalton will inherit his riches. I get to ensure the Gunn lineage thrives, and you, my dear, get to live a very luxurious lifestyle whilst you remain married to my son.”
“I’m not bothered about a luxurious lifestyle,” I throw back. “I will continue to work at the hotel and earn my own money. I might have to live here, but I won’t be some lady who lives off her husband’s wealth.”
“Her father-in-law’s wealth, you mean,” Carl corrects me. “Dalton will continue to manage the hotel until you produce an heir, and I think you’ll find that you will indeed become a lady of leisure as soon as you’re married. Page 21, point seven, says as much,” he counters with a smirk. “Can’t have my daughter-in-law slumming it as some lowly receptionist, now can I? Even if it is a receptionist at my hotel.”
The blood drains from my face as I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “But–”
“No buts. You signed the contract. You’ve agreed to the terms.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I throw at Dalton, shaking my head in disbelief. Why the hell didn’t I read the contract properly? I’m an idiot.
“It’s all there in black and white,” Dalton replies coolly.
“You pig,” I accuse.
“Most women would jump at the chance to be taken care of in such a way. Count yourself lucky,” Carl snaps, and with that, he gathers up the contract and slides it into the drawer of his desk, locking it away. “I’m assuming you drove here today?” he asks with a dismissive flick of his hand towards the door.
I move to stand, more than ready to leave, but Dalton rests his hand on my shoulder, preventing me from getting up. “I’d like a word with Daisy before she leaves,” he says, his own tone uncompromising as I jerk away from the warmth of his touch.
“Then take your fiancé to look around. I have things to do,” Carl says, opening up his laptop and ignoring the both of us.
Fiancé.
The word echoes in my mind as the reality of our impending marriage sinks in. I'm torn between wanting to run away, and facing the harsh reality of my new life.
"Daisy?" Dalton questions.
I push upright, ignoring his offered hand, and stride past him with a feigned air of confidence.
As we step out of the office, the heavy door shuts behind us with a resounding thud, the hallway stretching before us. Like the rest of Highwood Manor, this wing has been extravagantly decorated with expensive artwork and sparkling chandeliers, the only signs of life are our footsteps echoing off the marble floor, which has been polished to a flawless shine. This is not a place of warmth or comfort; it is simply a demonstration of wealth, every detail meticulously chosen to flaunt the Gunn’s status and distinguish between those who have and those who do not.
Thanks to Hubert, who adopted me at the same time as Drix, I have lived a comfortable life. Our family home is well-lived in, and filled with love, unlike this place which lacks such warmth.
Picking up my pace in my haste to get the hell out of here, I ignore Dalton’s penetrating gaze as he analyses my every move, matching me stride for stride. His scrutiny is unnerving, as though I’m under a microscope waiting to be dissected.
“What?” I bite out, throwing him a glare.
“I suppose congratulations are in order?” he replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“Excuse me if I don’t jump up and down for joy. This isn’t exactly how I envisioned my happily ever after,” I reply, the bitter taste of irony filling my mouth as my steps falter.
I’ve spent my whole life imagining what it would feel like to fall head over heels in love, to make a family of my own after I was so thoroughly mistreated by my birth parents, and yet here I am about to walk into a loveless marriage. At least I’ll get a baby out of this, someone of my own who I can cherish and shower with love, something which was sorely missing in my early childhood.
“You agreed to this,” he reminds me, pulling up sharp.
“I agreed to be your wife, to bear your child. I did not agree to give up my freedom.”
“Your signature on that contract says otherwise,” he points out.
Drawing in a steadying breath, I nod, turning to face him. “Fine. At least Drix is now free from his debt and can love the woman he deserves, and I get to be a mum. It’s the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted anyway.”
“So when do you plan on using me as a sperm bank to make a baby?” he asks, anger blazing across his face.
“As soon as possible after the wedding,” I retort, ignoring his self-pity. “If I’m lucky I will fall pregnant quickly, then I’ll only have to wait a year after the baby is born to be free of you.”
He shakes his head, swiping a hand through his hair. “Fucking perfect,” he mutters.
A sharp stab of guilt penetrates my heart, alongside the dull ache I always get when I’m on my period, but I ignore both. “This is an arranged marriage, Dalton, not a chance for you to indulge your sex addiction. You will never get to fuck me. Jerk off into a damn jar and hand over your sperm, I’ll deal with the rest.”
He flinches, then his expression hardens. “Are you forgetting we have to make this look believable? Otherwise the contract is null and void.”
“In public I will play the role of your devoted fiancé and wife, but behind closed doors we will be what we’ve always been to each other.”
“And what’s that?” he prompts.
“No more than two people connected by the person we both care about. You’re not my friend, Dalton, and you’re certainly not going to be my lover.”
A slow smile creeps up his face as he reaches for my strawberry blonde hair, tugging on the strands. “Yes, but you will be my wife, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone suspect otherwise.”
I laugh in his face. “We both know you won’t be able to live without sex. I imagine you’ll be relieving yourself as regularly as you do right now with the women you like to string along. Don’t worry though, I’ll play the obedient wife, and turn a blind eye so you can deal with your urges. Perhaps I’ll find someone too,” I add, just to rub it in.
“See, here’s the thing, Daisy,” he says as he pushes the boundaries between us and steps closer, his body dangerously close to mine. “If you’d read the contract fully, instead of staring at it blindly, you’d notice that marital affairs are off the menu, for the both of us. Can’t have you implanted with another man’s seed, now can we?”
“Your father is such an arsehole,” I snap back.
He shrugs. “Get used to it.”
“Back off,” I growl. I don’t like the way the heat from his body penetrates mine, or the gleam of challenge in his eyes. “I’m not a game to be won, Dalton. There will be nothing between us, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. So good luck with that.”
“You really don’t know me very well at all, do you, Daisy?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have a one hundred percent success rate when it comes to women.”
“You’re one arrogant bastard, do you know that?” I hiss, taking another step away from him, my back hitting the wall.
“Maybe,” he replies.
The leisurely smile that pulls up his lips has my stomach coiling in anger as he leans his forearm against the wall, trapping my body against his. I’m vaguely aware of a member of staff moving at the end of the hallway, and I stiffen.
“I guess the show starts now,” he replies, aware that we’re being watched as he drops his head closer to mine.
“I’m assuming your arsehole father made them sign non-disclosure agreements?” I hiss, flicking my eyes to their maid who is dusting an ornament, trying and failing not to notice our interaction. “So this doesn’t count.”
He smirks. “The hell it doesn’t, fiancé.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” I warn, my breath hitching, as his mouth hovers over mine.
“Oh, I dare,” he replies before smashing his lips against mine in a rough kiss.
For a second I’m so shocked that all I can do is let him kiss me. His lips are warm, his kiss urgent, desperate almost. I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to lick his tongue inside my mouth as his free hand reaches up, curling his fingers into my hair and tugging me closer. His scent wafts between us, a familiar cologne of warm cedarwood mixed with heady notes of musk and spice.
His groan surprises me given I can feel his anger in this kiss. His anger at me for agreeing to this charade, at his father for forcing us both into this position, and at my brother for getting himself stuck with this debt in the first place, even if it was out of love for me. There’s a part of me, the tiniest, most miniscule part that feels sympathy for him. Then I’m reminded why he agreed, and that sympathy dissolves. Dalton is selfish, he wants to maintain his lifestyle. Marrying me and producing an heir is the only way he’s going to ensure that happens.
My cheeks flood with heat, anger coursing through me as I push against his chest, not caring who sees. “And I know how to handle men like you,” I seethe, kneeing him in the balls.
“Fuck!” he yells, doubling over with a groan, his hands flying to his groin as he cups himself.
Spinning on my heel, I stride along the hallway, ignoring his call for me to wait, to stop. As soon as I reach my car, I yank open the door, slamming it shut behind me just as he comes running outside.
“Daisy, just wait a damn minute!” he yells, and despite the look of agony on his face, that speaks of something deeper than a bruised dick, I don’t wait.
Instead, I give him the middle finger as I drive away, hating that my first encounter with my husband-to-be was filled with so much anger and loathing. But, really, what did I expect? This is Dalton we’re talking about. He’s incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself. Gritting my teeth, I resign myself to the fact that this is going to be my life for the foreseeable future.