1. Chapter One #2
“I married you because you insulted me while making me a drink.”
“I was warning you. Vegas is full of swindlers.”
His smile changed him. It took some of the weight from his face and gave her back the man she’d met under amber bar lights.
She’d been good behind that bar. Better than good.
Bottles and tools had sat within easy reach, and even on a crowded night, she always knew which glass belonged to which order.
The job hadn’t been the future she’d planned.
After her design degree, a junior opening with a firm that worked on hotels had almost been hers.
Then the project was postponed and the job disappeared with it.
Anita, her college friend, had an extra room in Las Vegas, rent still had to be paid, and Caroline’s restaurant work from college made bartending the answer that kept her afloat.
She’d learned to enjoy doing it well.
Hayden had taken a stool near the end of the bar wearing a dark suit that probably cost more than her car had. He’d looked tired then too, but not careless. His eyes had followed her hands as she finished two drinks and set them down.
“What can I get you?” she’d asked.
“An old-fashioned.”
“Good choice. Simple enough for a man with a secret identity.”
One dark eyebrow had lifted. “Do I have a secret identity?”
“You have a very rich face.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It’s not. Vegas is full of men who dress like billionaires and turn out to be swindlers. Or married. Sometimes both.”
His laugh had been low and surprised. “Which one am I?”
“I’m still gathering evidence.”
She’d made his drink while he watched her, amused instead of offended. When he asked how long she’d been bartending, she’d told him about the design job that had vanished.
“So, this isn’t what you wanted to do,” he’d said.
“I want to design places where people feel good walking in. Right now, I make them feel good about sitting down.” She’d placed the drink in front of him. “And landlords remain stubborn about accepting talent as payment.”
He’d tasted the cocktail, looked at her over the rim, and said, “This might change their minds.”
“See? Swindler.”
He’d stayed until the end of her shift.
Now, in the library, Hayden brushed his thumb over the curve of her stomach.
“Do you still think I’m a swindler?”
“You talked me into marrying you after one weekend. The evidence isn’t great.”
“You said yes.”
“I was dazzled by your rich face.”
He kissed her again, slower this time. When he drew back, the strain around his eyes had eased. Caroline wanted to keep him there. She wanted dinner to happen without them.
“Let’s stay home,” she said.
His hand went still. “Tonight?”
“We can order something. Or I can make drinks and you can pretend to have a secret identity.”
“My parents are expecting us.”
“They’ll survive.”
“Caroline.”
There it was. Not anger, but the tired patience he used when he thought she was making a simple thing hard.
She looked down at his tie. “I don’t want to be examined all evening.”
“It’s dinner.”
“For you.”
He let out a breath. “You’re expecting trouble before anything’s happened.”
“Something always happens.”
“My family can be difficult, but you’re making it worse in your head.”
The warmth of the memory faded. “That’s comforting.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed.
“It sounded clear.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Caroline could’ve told him about the stylist. She could’ve repeated every subtle insult and made him choose what it meant. But he was exhausted, they were already late, and the whole thing sounded small when she tried to arrange it into words.
Hayden touched the side of her face. “I’m sorry.”
She lifted her eyes to his.
“We won’t stay all night,” he said. “If it turns into an endurance event, we’ll leave. I promise.”
“Before dessert?”
“Even before the tiny food they serve before the real food.”
“You don’t know what it’s called either?”
“Of course I do. I refuse to encourage it.”
Her smile came back. He kissed her forehead, then her mouth, looking at her as if her hair wasn’t wrong and her body wasn’t a problem to solve.
She could do dinner for this man.
By the time they reached his parents’ estate, Caroline had almost convinced herself that the evening might be manageable. Mature hedges hid most of the house from the road. Past the iron gates, the lawns were cut into flawless green stretches around a home even larger than Hayden’s.
Larissa met them in the entrance hall. Petite and perfect in a cream silk suit, she put both hands on Hayden’s shoulders and kissed his cheek.
“Darling, you look exhausted. You’re working too hard.”
“I’m fine, Mother.”
Larissa turned to Caroline with a bright smile. “And there she is. The blue is much kinder to you, isn’t it? Pinning your hair makes such a difference.”
“The stylist worked very hard,” Caroline said.
“I’m sure she did.” Larissa’s gaze moved over her stomach. “How are you feeling?”
“Good, thank you.”
“Still good? How fortunate.”
Adam, Hayden’s father, appeared from a doorway, his dark hair threaded with silver and his suit as formal as if he’d come from the office. He greeted Caroline politely, then looked at Hayden.
“Did you deal with the financing schedule?”
“This afternoon.”
“And?”
Hayden’s hand moved to Caroline’s lower back. “We can talk before dinner.”
The touch kept her steady, even as Adam led him several steps away and began asking another question.
“Abandoned already,” a voice said beside her. “A family tradition.”
Paulie, Hayden’s younger brother, bent to kiss Caroline’s cheek before she could turn. He looked enough like Hayden to make the difference between them striking: younger, dark hair already untidy, his expensive jacket worn as if it had offended him.
“You live here,” Caroline said. “Can you abandon someone in your own house?”
“I live everywhere and nowhere. It protects my mystery.”
“You don’t have any mystery.” She smiled at him.
“Cruel. I can see why Hayden married you.” He offered her his arm with great ceremony. “Come along. I hear Father’s serving the postnup discussion between the soup and the fish.”
Caroline stopped. “The what?”
Paulie’s smile slipped by a fraction.
Across the hall, Hayden looked over. “Paulie,” he groaned.
“What?” Paulie asked. “I thought she knew.”
Knew what? That Adam still wanted a postnuptial agreement? That Hayden had been discussing it with them? That everyone in this house was still waiting for him to protect himself from her?
The doorbell chimed. Larissa’s expression changed at once, excitement painting her features.
“She’s here!”
A member of staff opened the front door. Dasha Markova entered in a fitted green dress, tall and straight, her red hair cut into a perfect bob. She looked like she belonged in the polished hall. More than that, she looked as if she knew it.
“Dasha, darling.” Larissa crossed to her with a warmth Caroline had never received. They kissed each other’s cheeks. “I’m so glad you could come.”
Dasha smiled over Larissa’s shoulder. Her green eyes found Hayden first.
“Hayden.”
Caroline felt his hand settle against her back again, but she couldn’t stop watching the easy welcome, the familiar smiles, the way no one needed to explain where Dasha fit.
His ex-girlfriend, almost fiancée at some point, the Russian heiress Hayden had been on and off with for the better part of the last ten years, way before Hayden had known Caroline even existed.
Dinner hadn’t even begun, and it was already going to be harder than her husband had promised.