Chapter Three
IT WAS MADNESS to be considering this. Madness to have a list of requirements to go through with her prospective fiancé. The man who was all but blackmailing her into a marriage deal.
And yet, he’d been right, the night before.
This was her chance to reach out and change her life.
Ever since she was a little girl, she’d been in a position of having things happen to her.
She couldn’t help her parents. The fact their marriage was miserable and they fought often.
Nor the fact her mum just simply disappeared one day.
That after that they were struggling for every penny they could find.
But at least Amelia had been able to apply for a scholarship to study medicine—she’d finally been on her way to the future she’d wanted.
Until, that very same week, her dad’s cancer had been diagnosed, and she’d known she could never leave him.
These things had happened without her ability to influence them. She’d simply reacted to the circumstances as best she could, behaving, she hoped, in a way she wouldn’t regret.
And that same wisdom guided her now.
He was right that, if she let this chance go, she might very well end up working dead-end jobs for ever, finding it impossible to regain her footing in life.
So why not grab what he was offering with both hands? She’d spent so long looking out for everyone else, including her dad, and becoming an adult way ahead of time, why shouldn’t she look after herself for once?
Didn’t she deserve to get what she wanted in life?
But there were no compromises here. If she did this, she wanted it to be just what she needed. Which meant being brave, and asking. Demanding. Telling him exactly what would make this worth her while.
Her cheeks flushed pink as she glanced up at the modern-looking building just a stone’s throw from Harrods. Two fancily dressed men stood sentinel on either side of the glass doors. She smiled nervously at them as she walked past, then approached the elevators.
She jabbed the button, her stomach in knots as she waited and then, as the elevator began to glide upwards, so fast and smooth, it was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
The doors pinged open right onto a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror.
She stared across at her reflection. She had set out today in an outfit she usually adored—a simple black pencil skirt and a champagne-coloured camisole, with a denim jacket and high tops.
But looking at her reflection, she felt like a misplaced punk rocker in Buckingham Palace.
Closing her eyes as the butterflies in her belly threatened to take up occupation through her entire body, she counted to ten then stepped towards a double set of glossy white timber doors with gold-plated handles.
She lifted her fist and knocked once. It was barely audible. She tried again, louder this time, then jumped back and waited, knotting her fingers as she did so.
He opened the door, and her heart jolted. While he was not naked, he wore only a pair of shorts, with a towel wrapped around his neck, dangling on either side of his very buff, broad chest, so she could only stare at him, her mouth dry, her blood rushing through her body.
She dragged her gaze, with effort, to his face. ‘Were you not expecting me?’
He arched a brow, stepping back and silently inviting her to enter. ‘I didn’t know how long you’d be.’
She swallowed, trying very hard not to breathe in as she passed, because she knew, straight out of the shower like this, he’d smell—too late. Her nostrils tingled as she caught a hint of soap and something spicy and alpine. Her gut rolled.
Good Lord, but this man was…too good to be true.
‘Coffee?’ he asked.
And just like that, he morphed from good to perfection. ‘God, yes. Thanks.’
When he walked, he looked as though he’d somehow bottled the power of a thousand lightning bolts and infused them into his body.
There was such strength to his movements, such lithe athleticism, that she studied him almost as a work of art.
Until she realised she was still studying him long after he’d stopped walking, and was simply standing in the kitchen.
Looking right at her, his lips quirking with a hint of mocking amusement to find her practically drooling.
Heat flushed her cheeks, but she refused to feel embarrassed. Yet. That might come, given what she intended to ask of him.
‘You wanted to talk?’ he said, switching on a machine that looked way fancier than the one they had in the diner. She watched as he put freshly ground beans into the basket and lifted it in place, then pushed a button.
‘Yeah.’ She moved over to the counter and pulled out a seat, sitting down for a second before realising that was wrong, and jumping back to standing.
‘You are afraid of me.’
She pulled a face. ‘No. I’m…nervous. That’s not the same thing.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m tempted to agree with your idea, and that’s unhinged. I mean, I can think of a million reasons to say “no”.’
‘And yet, you’re here.’
Her eyes latched to his as all the air whooshed out of her. ‘This marriage could make my dreams come true,’ she murmured. ‘And I gave up on that so long ago. I really never thought I’d have another chance to live the life I wanted, way back, before everything went pear shape.’
‘Tell me about that life.’
She sucked in a deep breath, shyness taking hold of her. ‘I always wanted more than this.’
His jaw clenched and she wondered if he understood that.
How much she’d lost—how much she could have been.
‘I’ve just been getting by for the longest time.
’ She cleared her throat, not wanting to bore him with the sob story of her life.
‘I would love to turn my back on what you’re offering, to prove to us both that I’m not that mercenary, but the thing is, I can’t. I don’t want to, anyway.’
‘Do not forget, Amelia, that I approached you. I never offer what I am not willing to pay—and I never give without taking in return. This marriage is important to me, for the sake of my grandfather’s pride. In marrying you, I will be giving him something I could never buy.’
‘But you will be buying it,’ she pointed out, unevenly. ‘In a way, you’ll be buying me.’
‘As I said yesterday, this would be no different from any other business deal.’
She nodded slowly. ‘An agreement.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘That’s what I came to talk about.’
‘Yes?’
‘I don’t want to wait until I’m twenty-five to start living my life.’
His eyes narrowed. This man was so imposing, so incredibly intimidating. Was she actually considering marrying him?
‘What would you like?’
She sipped her coffee, her hand trembling a little as she placed it back on the counter. ‘I want to go to university.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I don’t speak Italian, but I could apply to study at a British university, online.’
‘Why don’t you speak Italian?’
She swallowed past the bitterness in her throat. ‘Is it a prerequisite?’
His eyes bored into hers. ‘You should learn.’
But when she heard Italian, she thought of her mother, and the visceral ache of missing her was so incredibly intense, she almost couldn’t bear it. ‘I’ll think about it.’
He dipped his head once, as if to signal the conversation was closed. ‘In terms of university online, I have no issues with that, obviously. I work long hours, and, as I said last night, we will essentially live separate lives. How you keep yourself occupied is of no concern to me.’
She ignored the lump of ice that formed in the middle of her chest at the marriage he was describing.
But at the same time, this wasn’t a real marriage.
She had to get beyond thinking of it as anything like that and focus on it being a trade.
A quid pro quo. She had something he needed, and he could substantially change her entire life.
She swallowed. ‘There’s something else,’ she murmured, nervousness tripping through her.
But she had no option. Amelia knew she was unlikely to break their vows.
While it wasn’t a real marriage, she just couldn’t bear the thought of being married to one man and dating another, let alone sleeping with them.
It went against everything she believed.
‘I’m listening.’
He crossed his arms over his chest, with no idea how that was affecting her, making it almost impossible to speak. She took another sip of her coffee. ‘I want us to have a wedding night.’
He frowned, perhaps not understanding her at first. But she saw the moment comprehension dawned. ‘Why?’
And here she’d been hoping she could just make a demand and have it accepted, without the need to explain. Her cheeks flushed, she moved away from him, towards the windows that showed a view down over Hyde Park. It was easier to talk when she wasn’t looking at him.
‘I have pretty much no experience with men. I mean, I went to a few parties in high school, had a few fumbling kisses, but nothing amazing. And then my dad got sick. Ever since then, I’ve been in survival mode.
Looking after him, working, trying to pay bills.
’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I haven’t had time to even think about meeting someone.
’ She sucked in a breath, forcing herself to be brave and face him.
Turning slowly, she saw he hadn’t moved.
His body was rigid, his eyes locked to hers.