Chapter 17
Ruby woke as she did every morning, in the wee small hours, savouring the darkness and peace when she produced her best work.
She loved slipping into her fluffy pink dressing-gown and worn leopard-print slippers, snagging her hair into a messy ponytail with elastic, and padding downstairs to her workshop.
There was something almost furtive about it, like stealing a few extra hours in the day by sneaking around in the darkness.
Her mother had bestowed the apartment over the showroom to her because of it.
Both her mum and Sapphire had been light sleepers, but they'd quit complaining about her nocturnal wanderings when they saw the pieces she produced.
When Ruby turned twenty-one, they moved out, her mother to a modern apartment in Toorak, Sapphire to a Californian bungalow not far from their showroom on High Street.
She'd missed them initially, but found comfort in her creations as she always did. Her work had sustained her through bad dates, break-ups, losing her mum, and then Sapphire’s ill nessa year later.
Ruby’s fingers tingled and she stretched, eager to head downstairs, pick up her pliers,and start creating magic.
However, when she stretched, her foot encountered another.
Her eyes flew open and the first thing she saw was Jax Maroney's handsome face inches from hers.
In that moment ,it all came flooding back.
Seaborn on the skids.
Proposing to Jax.
Marrying him yesterday.
Telling Sapphire.
What she couldn't remember, how she'd ended up in this bed.
She'd been shattered after her confrontation with Sapphire, emotionally overwrought. She'd built a perfectly plausible marriage scenario in her head, prepared to rationalise it to her sister. Not lying, but not telling the direct truth, but Saph had seen straight through her.
In a way, Ruby had been relieved. Saph hadn't freaked out too badly, she hadn't dismembered Jax, and having her sister know the truth alleviated some of her stress.
But it had taken a toll. She hadn't wanted to talk on the drive to the B&B. Besides, Jax didn't seem the comforting type. Baring her soul to have him dismiss her or close down as she suspected he might would've made her bawl.
Bad enough that his caring almost made her cry. What had he said, something along the lines of you deserve a special wedding night?
He'd almost undone her.
She could've happily fallen into his strong arms and blubbered all over his designer tux if she hadn't seen the dawning horror in his eyes.
Right, got the message. New husband doesn't do emotions.
He'd bolted while she slumped on the sofa… and that was the last she remembered. She must've fallen asleep and he'd carried her into the bedroom. And encountering his foot meant he'd taken off her shoes.
Which begged the question: what else did he take off?
She slid her hand under the top sheet and encountered the sheath dress, and for one shocking moment, disappointment warred with relief.
Who would've thought, her brooding, charismatic husband could be a gentleman too?
She studied Jax, his face relaxed in sleep. He'd lost the frown lines and tightness around his mouth. He had an inherent toughness that faded when he slept and seeing him sleeping soundly, almost susceptible, humanised him more than the understanding he'd demonstrated on the drive here yesterday.
His thoughtfulness in carrying her to the bed and tucking her in impressed her, and made her like him more than she should.
She didn't want to feel anything for him, it wouldn't be wise, but with his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheek and his mouth slack with sleep, her heart wriggled.
Unable to resist, she brushed a lock of hair off his forehead and his eyes instantly snapped open, the fear she glimpsed in them making her heart ache.
What would make a tough guy like him scared, and wake so quickly?
Something in his past, to do with his father perhaps?
In the second it took her to process his reaction, his fear vanished, replaced by a familiar heat in his hooded eyes.
”The sleeping beauty awakes."
"That's debatable." She smirked. "You're not so beautiful."
His mouth eased into a grin and her heart kicked. "I was talking about you."
"Technically, I wasn't sleeping because I woke first."
"Are you always this argumentative first thing in the morning?"
While said in jest, the reality hit her.
Though they hadn't finalised living arrangements yet—she wouldn't budge from her apartment above the workshop and he wouldn't move in with her—in all probability they'd have to cohabit for some length of time to convince people of the validity of this marriage.
And that meant she'd find it increasingly difficult to ignore the simmering attraction between them when waking next to him every morning for the foreseeable future until they got what they wanted out of this deal and the marriage dissolved.
"Depends."
He propped up on one elbow, the sheet slipping and revealing a spectacular bronzed, broad chest. "On what?"
She curled her fingers into her palm to stop from reaching out and seeing if that wall of muscle felt as good as it looked.
"On what you plan on doing to shut me up."
His gaze roved over her face, her chest, and lower. "Plenty."
How could one word pack so much punch, so much promise?
"As a wise guy once told me, big statement, but can you deliver?"
He lifted the sheet and she mouthed 'wow'.
Yep, he could definitely deliver.
"I'm not the one who fell asleep last night."
Still reeling from the size of what she'd seen under that sheet, she swallowed. "You're not the one who had to tell her sister she'd married the enemy."
His smile faded and she mentally kicked herself. "Is that how you see me?"
"You were undercutting our gem prices and driving us out of business. What do you think?"
He paused, emotions flitting across his expressive face—regret, annoyance, pride. "I think if this is your idea of pillow talk, it leaves a lot to be desired."
She knew what she was doing. Picking a fight, deliberately sabotaging the unexpected zing of attraction, too scared to have sex and fully commit to a marriage she'd barged into with the finesse of a wounded rhino.
Waking up next to Jax was too cosy, too intimate, too soon.
She didn't want to fall into his arms, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. They might be married but she had no intention of acting the dutiful wife.
He chose that moment to run a fingertip across her shoulder and down her upper arm. Slow. Teasing. Leaving a trail of tiny goose bumps.
"Because I can think of more interesting versions of pillow talk, Ruby…”
His fingertip lingered in the hollow of her elbow, lightly skating across her skin with the barest of touches but enough to make her yearn to have him touch her all over.
She bit her lip as he picked up her hand and nibbled on the pad of her thumb, inching his way towards her wrist where he licked her pulse point, and she moaned.
She had two choices. Do this the hard way and deny them both a good time, or do this the easy way and have scintillating sex as a bonus to a dodgy business marriage.
His lips trailed up her arm, nipping at her skin, setting her alight until she couldn't stand the minimal contact and wanted more.
She wanted it all.
Determinedly ignoring her residual doubts that this could prove to be a very bad idea, she tugged on the sheet, exposing his entire chest in all its magnificence.
"Maybe I don't want to talk anymore?"
"Me either."
In one swift movement he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed, and she sighed with pleasure at his weight pressing her to the mattress, his hard cock pressing into her pelvis.
Her arms slid around him, her hands gliding down his back until she encountered an exceptionally taut butt.
Nuzzling his neck, she murmured, "One of us is gloriously naked, the other is way overdressed."
"Easily rectified." He rolled off her, taking her with him, so now she lay flat on top of him.
He tugged her zip down, eased the straps off her shoulders, and pushed the dress down with the finesse of a man desperate for skin-on-skin action.
"No bra, smart girl." He palmed her breasts, kneading them with firm strokes, tweaking her nipples until she groaned.
"You're so responsive," he said, his hands lifting her torso so his mouth could pick up where his hands left off.
He laved and suckled her nipples until she writhed, begging for more with unintelligible gibberish.
He blew on her nipples and they pebbled, his breath sending fire streaking to her core. He flipped again, laying her on her back, rising up on all fours to hover over her like an erotic fantasy lover come to life.
"You're magnificent," she said, reaching up to skim her palms across her chest, his abs, edging lower.
He growled in approval and ripped off her panties, tossing the scrap of silk over his shoulder.
She gasped as he splayed her legs. She moaned as he lowered his head and licked her. She screamed a few short licks later as her orgasm slammed into her in a raging crescendo that left her boneless.
Smug, he snagged a foil pocket from the bedside table, tore it open and sheathed himself while she watched him, dazed. She liked sex. Sex was healthy and fun, especially with the right guy.
Considering the aftershocks of the orgasm still rippling through her, those other guys had been nothing more than a prelude to the real thing.
"Nothing to say?" He nudged at her pussy and her hands bunched the sheets. "That's a first."
She arched her pelvis, vindicated by the flare of passion in his eyes as he battled for control.
“I’ve got one word for you." She strained upwards, taking him in an inch. "More."
With an exultant groan he thrust into her and she saw stars. He filled her to the point of exquisite pain and she clung to him, mindless, as he drove into her repeatedly.
Their bodies slid over each other, slick with sweat, as she dug her nails into his shoulders, clamouring for release.
As the tension built, he stopped and she stared at him in disbelief.
"What are you doing—?"
He silenced her with a kiss, his tongue miming what he'd been doing below, keeping her excitement at fever pitch.
He kissed his way towards her ear. "Turn over."
She did, and within a second he’d plunged inside her again, his hand snaking beneath her, wedged between the bed and her clitoris, pleasuring her.
With every thrust, with every stroke, the inner tension coiled.
She rose onto all fours as her orgasm neared and Jax roared, driving into her with a practised frenzy that sent them over the edge at the same time.
Stunned, she couldn't move, her body trembling with aftershocks of mind-numbing pleasure.
Jax rested his forehead on her back, cradling her waist to him, as she absorbed the enormity of what had just happened.
She'd had the best sex of her life.
Truly connected physically with a guy.
Not just any guy: her husband.
Who would be doing this to her on a regular basis if she let him.
Marriage to the enemy may not be so bad after all.