Chapter 7
7
Rowan
I hadn’t known what to expect when I’d first turned up at the unbearably swanky La Chouette. The decor was all white so I felt as if I was walking through a snow globe as I joined Charlotte at her table.
She was stunningly beautiful and honestly, I felt like a dowdy little hen beside her in the black and white skirt and blouse, my favored work clothes. She’d been easy to talk to, though she didn’t want to talk about the whole reason we were there until my ‘groom-to-be’ arrived.
I’d had no idea at all that the groom would be Atlas Blackwood. So to say it had been a shock to come back from the bathroom to find him standing at Charlotte’s table, all six foot four of him, towering over everyone else in the restaurant, would be to drastically understate things.
I’d thought I’d seen the last of him in Arcadia two weeks ago, yet here he was, the last person I expected or wanted to see at this meeting with Charlotte, and as impossibly beautiful as he’d been the last time I’d laid eyes on him.
Then Charlotte had told me why he was here. And now I was furious. Completely and utterly furious with my grandmother for not telling me a single damn thing about Atlas Blackwood’s involvement, and with Atlas for knowing that I was part of the situation already, and knowing before I did myself.
It wasn’t fair of me to be angry with him about that — he couldn’t have told me about it, because he didn’t have any of my contact details for a start — but too bad. I was. And him offering to pay me double what Charlotte had to not take her deal hadn’t helped either.
I knew he was trying to protect me, but I was long past needing his help or protection, and I was angry at his apparent assumption that all he needed to do was his wave his magic money wand in my face and I’d do whatever he asked.
There was no way I was going to take a man’s money, no matter what he said about no strings, because there were always strings. Always ways for people — and by people, I mean men — to exercise their power over others.
I’d seen them do it with my mother. All those boyfriends of hers who didn’t care, who only wanted sex from her, and she was just so desperate for someone to love her that she’d put up with being treated like shit.
Nope, that wasn’t going to be my future. I was better off without men in my life, a thousand times better off, which meant I had zero interest in taking Atlas’s money.
At least with Charlotte the strings were obvious and agreed on beforehand. And she’d said there would be a contract to sign, so why not?
Money equaled power and that’s what I wanted. Power to help my mother, to create the kind of life for her where she was always cared for, where she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Where I could go to college like I wanted and finally get out of this endless cycle of crappy jobs.
Naturally I had doubts about Charlotte’s offer, but I couldn’t afford to refuse it, no matter what the man sitting beside me said, powerful and golden, and every shade of beautiful.
He wasn’t smiling his usual lazy smile now. His face was hard, his wolf’s eyes sharp. He hadn’t liked me refusing him, that was clear.
Too bad. He could suck it up.
“Excellent,” Charlotte said, smiling at me. “I knew you’d do it. I’ll have my lawyers draw something up to send to you. There will be a few health checks required, but nothing drastic.”
“So,” Atlas murmured, an edge in his deep, rich voice. “You’d rather marry me and have my baby than take my money. Good to know.”
The words ‘marry me’ and ‘have my baby’ made my skin tighten. Made my cheeks get hot, which was pretty much the same response I’d had when Charlotte had playfully mentioned me not having to have sex with him.
God, I’d wanted to sink through the floor, because then all I’d been able to think about were the dirty fantasies I had about him in my bed every night. Where he gripped the back of my neck and bent me over, and pushed into me from behind… God. No one needed to know about those fantasies. Absolutely no one.
I didn’t need to look at him to know he was angry. I could feel the force of it beating against me from where I sat. Was it me and my refusal that annoyed him? Or did it go beyond that? He was certainly angry with Charlotte, I picked up on that loud and clear. But again, was it because she hadn’t told me he was part of this? Or was it with this whole situation? Charlotte had said he’d volunteered but was there more to it than that? Something to do with the other men Charlotte had mentioned, maybe?
“What does it matter to you?” I finally glanced at him. “I thought you didn’t care about anything.” At least, that’s what it always seemed like to me. Easy-going, chill Atlas. Always with that slow-burn of a smile and nothing any trouble. “Or perhaps you’re compensating for something,” I added, unable to resist the dig.
That smile was nowhere in evidence now, the smoky gold of his eyes burning as he studied me. “You’re still pissed about me leaving, kid? Is that what this is about?”
My cheeks reddened even as I opened my mouth to deny it. “Of course not,” I said, far too defensively.
“Uh huh.” A whole universe of skepticism lurked in his voice. “So you know I’m not the enemy, right?”
His gaze held mine and all of a sudden the physical impact of him caught me like a gut punch. He was sitting close, his big, long body stretched out in his seat, his delicious scent filling my head, and he was just… staring at me. As if he’d never seen me before, but was seeing me now and I…interested him in some way.
A delicious sort of shiver went down my spine, a kind of breathless excitement, as if a part of me wanted him to see me. Not the kid I once was, the step daughter he felt sorry for, but me , the woman I was now, strong and able and in charge of her life.
I held his gaze, lifting my chin, knowing that I was challenging him yet not caring. I didn’t want him to see me as the kid he felt sorry for, the kid he had to save, but someone else. Someone powerful.
He didn’t look away so I saw the moment something deep in the relentless gold of his eyes ignited, like embers from a banked fire bursting into flame. I had no idea what it meant, but it made my mouth go dry.
Silence fell, but I didn’t notice, mesmerized by Atlas’s stare.
He asked you a question, fool.
Oh, God. So he had. About me knowing he wasn’t the enemy.
“Yes,” I forced out, my cheeks blazing as I became conscious that not only was Atlas looking at me, but Charlotte was too. “I do know that actually.”
“Do you?” He tilted his head, scanning my face. “Then maybe stop snapping at me like a little dog, hmm?”
A thread of anger, fueled by his patronizing tone and the embarrassment of both of them seeing me staring at him, sat in my gut. “A dog?” I shot back. “Is that how you see me? Really?”
Something I didn’t understand suddenly glittered in the hot, smoky depths of his eyes. “No,” he murmured. “You’re something else entirely.”
The strange heat inside me climbed, the tension in the air seething, and quite suddenly I was sick of it. Sick of Charlotte and her games, and sick of Atlas and my inability to be anything around him other than a blushing, stammering kid or a snappy, angry idiot. I needed to get out. I needed some air.
Shoving back my chair and muttering something about the bathroom, I got up and tried not to storm like a sulky teenager as I headed for the safety of expensive white tile and chrome taps.
Mercifully there was no one else in the ladies’, so I was able to have a mini breakdown in peace.
I went to the sink, turned on the taps, then put my hands beneath the flow of water before bringing them up to my face, pressing my damp palms against my burning cheeks to cool them.
God, what was I doing? Getting way in over my head it seemed, and Mom would no doubt agree.
Not that I’d told her what I was doing. I hadn’t even mentioned that my grandmother had called me, let alone the whole baby/marriage thing. And I definitely couldn’t tell her the truth now, that I was going to marry and have a baby with her ex-husband.
I let out a breath, dropped my hands and stared sightlessly down into the sink.
I’d gone over and over Charlotte’s offer in the days before this meeting, sorting through the pros and cons, and when I’d gotten here to meet her, she’d been kind and far more welcoming than I’d expected.
Then Atlas had turned up and the decision I’d made had suddenly been turned on its head, only for it to turn back again within minutes.
It was all his fault. That and my own reaction to him that I couldn’t control, which was weird because this was only the second time I’d seen him. Then again, he’d been living in my head a long time, so maybe it wasn’t that weird after all.
So you’re attracted to him. So what? Deal with it.
I took a breath then straightened and glanced in the mirror at my reflection. A woman stared back, cheeks still red, eyes dark.
‘Lovely’, my mother used to say. ‘You’re so lovely, Rowan, and you don’t even know. You should really dress to make the most of it’.
But I did know and I didn’t dress to make the most of it and I never would. I didn’t exist to please men and I didn’t care about my looks. Mom had always cared far too much about hers and where had that gotten her? Dependent on her daughter and penniless. Perhaps having Charlotte Hamilton as a mother had contributed to my own mother’s fragility, in which case giving Charlotte my own baby would be a mistake.
Then again, any child brought up by Charlotte wouldn’t have to scrape around for money the way I’d had to, constantly worried about whether we’d have enough for all the monthly bills. Not that the baby would be mine in the first place. The baby would be Charlotte’s, and if I was going to do this, that’s how I’d better start thinking about it.
The door to the bathroom opened abruptly and I stared in shock in the mirror as Atlas strolled in, shutting the door firmly behind him before leaning back against it and folding his arms.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” I turned to face him. “This is the ladies’ if you hadn’t noticed.”
All at once the room seemed much smaller than it had a moment ago, as if it had drastically reduced in size the moment he’d entered. The air felt thinner too, as if all the oxygen had been crowded out by the scent of him, filling the room with warm sunshine, sandalwood, and smoke.
He was in his usual leather jacket and jeans, with a navy T-shirt this time, and he looked good. Far too good. Everything about him was far too good, and on cue, I could feel a blush start to rise.
“I did notice, believe it or not,” he said, gazing at me. “Thought we could use some privacy to talk without Charlotte directing everything like Francis Ford fucking Coppola.”
My heart raced and I wished I could put some more space between us, but with the basin digging into my back, there was nowhere to go.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked. “I thought it was all settled.”
“Sure, but that was before I realized she hadn’t told you that your partner in all of this would be me.”
I shrugged, hoping I looked cool, calm and collected, and suspecting that I looked hot, flustered and a mess instead. “I’m fine with it.”
“I suppose that’s why you bolted to the bathroom,” he said calmly. “Because you were so fine with it.”
Damn him. Why wouldn’t he let this go?
With an epic force of will, I managed to slow my racing heart, but there was nothing I could do about the blush staining my cheeks. Nothing I could do about my awareness of the way his jeans sat on his lean hips, the denim clinging to his powerful thighs, or how the cotton of his t-shirt showcased his perfectly hard, flat stomach.
His body must be insane.
No. I was not going to think about his body. No. No.
“Girl stuff,” I bit out. “Nothing to do with you.”
“Uh huh.” Clearly he didn’t believe a word. “Nothing to do with me offering you money either, right?”
“Yes, well. I should have said thank you for the offer, but I don’t want your money.”
One dark brow rose. “Why not? What’s wrong with my money?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I just don’t like being in debt to people.”
“Fair. What if I told you that it could be a gift?”
“No, Atlas,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to be given money.”
“But you’ll take Charlotte’s.”
“I’ll be earning that,” I pointed out. “And it will set me and Mom up for life.”
“So this is all about your mom?”
I didn’t want to get into everything with him, not here, and certainly not now so I only said, “Look, I don’t want to have a discussion about it in the ladies’ bathroom, so if you don’t mind, could you get away from the door?”
He didn’t move, but his gaze was disturbingly sharp, moving over my face as if committing it to memory. “You do know that you don’t have to sleep with me, right?”
Oh God, did he really have to say that ?
“Yes, yes.” I turned around to the sink and ran the taps again, washing my hands even though they didn’t need washing. “If I had to sleep with you, I wouldn’t be doing this.”
He was silent, but I could feel his attention on me, boring into my back. It had a weight to it, that attention. Heavy and warm somehow, like a hand pressing there.
His hand gripping the back of her neck, her fingers gripping the mantelpiece, the sounds she made as he fucked her from behind…
My mouth went dry and my hands trembled beneath the stream of water. Damn. Why did I keep thinking about that?
“Kid, you’re going to have to tell me what it is that you don’t like about me sometime,” he said at last.
“Why?” Forcing that particular memory away, I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser near the mirror and dried my hands carefully. “We’ll get this stupid marriage thing done and then I’ll never see you again.” I turned back to him, tossing the paper towel into the bin provided, then smoothing my skirt. “Shall we?”
He pushed himself away from the door, but he didn’t turn to open it. Instead, he stalked straight over to where I stood.
I wasn’t expecting it, my breath rushing in on a gasp as he came closer. Then his hand shot out, his fingers gripping my chin and tilting my head back.
“No,” he said, a strange edge in his voice, his golden eyes glittering. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what your problem with me is, Rowan.”