The Marriage Mistake (Marswood Harbor #2)

Ember

ONE

Jack Mars did not want to marry me. I knew this because when we met for the first time in the richly decorated parlor of his grandmother’s mansion, the first thing he said to me was, “I’m going to be honest with you.

I don’t want to marry you.” He pinched his lips, regretful. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time.”

I blinked. That wasn’t necessarily a deal breaker, considering what had brought me here.

But I needed more information. I leaned back on the overstuffed chair in which I sat across from him, my toe nudging the ornate foot of the round cherrywood side table between us.

The room smelled of antique furniture and the subtle scent from the bouquet of roses in the corner behind him.

I watched him steadily, my hands folded on my lap. “May I ask why?”

He gave me the kind of smile that made everything between my neck and my knees tighten, despite the fact that I was absolutely sure I didn’t want him in that way.

He had chiseled features: a long nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and remarkably blue eyes.

His long limbs and broad shoulders rested comfortably on the large, floral upholstered chair.

Even sitting, I could tell he was considerably taller than me.

Not that that was saying much. His chestnut brown hair curled ever so slightly at the ends, cropped short on the sides of his head and left a bit longer on top.

He’d let it grow out a bit since his company’s marketing photos had been taken.

Yes, I’d looked him up before coming here.

No, I wasn’t prepared for the real thing.

The pictures hadn’t done him justice, and the pictures had been very good.

Shifting in his chair, he spread his palms with the kind of regal grace that came with absolute confidence in oneself. Jack Mars was attractive and aware of it. His face arranged itself into a good imitation of sympathy. “I’m sure you’re a very nice girl. Truly. Don’t take it personally.”

“That’s nice,” I replied, “but it doesn’t answer the question.”

He paused, and in that moment, I thought he might have seen me for the first time.

Before, I’d been some woman his billionaire grandmother had ordered online for him to marry.

A body filling the chair across from his that he wanted to get rid of as soon as possible.

But I hadn’t been emotionally devastated by his rejection, and so I’d surprised him.

That told me a lot about the kind of man I was dealing with. This was a man who was used to being in total control. Used to being obeyed and deferred to. Used to having a certain effect on women. My left eyelid twitched.

His eyes narrowed. “Why don’t I want to marry you?”

I nodded.

“You really need an answer to that, when this whole arranged marriage scheme is the ridiculous plot of a senile old woman?”

“Your grandmother didn’t seem senile to me when I met her earlier.

” She’d seemed shrewd and intelligent. Utterly focused on her goal of saving her town before she died.

I’d shaken her hand and felt a twinge of regret for lying my way to this point.

Only a twinge, though. “She told me your brother and his new wife are happily married and in love.”

Jack’s breath gusted out. “A fluke.”

“Fine. So you don’t believe in arranged marriages, and you refuse to participate. Have I got that right?”

He lifted his hands and shrugged, like I’d stated the obvious. “And I won’t put my daughter through some sham just to satisfy my grandmother’s urge to matchmake.” This, Jack said with more force. The smooth veneer of his expression cracked, and I saw the wolf within. He cared about his kid.

It was my turn to see him in a new light. I tilted my head, studying him. “And yet you’re still talking to me. That tells me two things.”

The silence between us thickened. He didn’t want to bite, but the curiosity got the best of him. “Which are?”

I smiled. Not so unruffled when annoyance stung him, was he?

“First, either you care deeply about your grandmother despite your words, and you want to make her happy, or…” I tilted my head, remembering the assessing, canny look Etta Mars had given me.

“Or she has something on you, and she’s forcing your hand. ”

Jack twitched. It was a subtle movement of his shoulders, an involuntary jerk.

“What is it?” I asked, nothing but harmless curiosity in my tone.

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is,” he shot back. The veneer cracked a little more. Ha.

I realized I was enjoying myself. That probably made me at least a little evil, but I was beyond the point of that kind of self-reflection. I was walking this path whether it was good for me or not.

I couldn’t resist prodding him a little more. “So it’s something to do with your kid.”

The reaction was immediate. He leaned forward, hands on the arms of his chair, features carved in stark relief. I’d touched a nerve. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

I inhaled. The force of Jack’s anger was a physical thing.

It pressed against me, pushing me deeper into my seat.

It made my heart thump and my palms start to sweat.

He watched me like he wanted to rend me limb from limb.

Like he was salivating at the thought of my very grisly death.

A wolf with fangs bared, preparing to lunge for my throat.

Was it fear making my stomach tighten? Or was it simply the effect of holding Jack Mars’s full attention?

I had no interest in finding out. At least that’s what I told myself.

I was not the type of woman who held the attention of a man like him.

I was invisible. Boring. Unremarkable. An actuary with a head full of numbers and a pathological fear of risk.

As such, I’d never been the center of an attractive man’s focus—even if it was simply as a target for his anger.

Despite what I told myself, a secret, violent thrill went through my gut. A part of me—a big part of me—liked it when he looked at me and only me.

The logical part of me, which, up until this point, had been in total control, hoisted a big red flag and began to wave it around.

But I had a goal. I was here for a reason.

If I hadn’t exhausted all other options, I would’ve gotten up and walked away.

Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out a leather document holder.

I unzipped it, pulled out the documents it contained, and placed them on the table between us.

They slid easily on the polished surface as I pushed them toward the man across from me.

Thankfully, my fingers didn’t tremble, but my breaths were shallow as they tried to fill my constricted lungs.

Jack’s blue eyes flicked down to the papers and back to me. Like I was a threat, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off me for more than a second.

Exhilaration was a new feeling—one I hadn’t believed I was capable of.

I tasted death in his glare, and it made the world seem sharper.

Brighter. For the first time since I’d heard of my estranged father’s death—and the inheritance he’d written into his will for me—I felt something other than dull practicality and a kind of grim determination.

Right now there was heat pumping through my veins. I tasted the tang of risk in the air, and it wasn’t sending me running like it usually did.

“What’s this?” he bit off, staring at the pages I’d pushed toward him.

“This is a contract my lawyer prepared earlier,” I said, fighting to appear calm. “My father recently passed, and I was surprised to hear he’d left me an inheritance worth a million dollars.”

“Congrats,” he sneered, then blinked, catching himself. “And I’m sorry.”

“He was a horrible man, and even in death he’s attempting to control me,” I replied. Jack frowned but said nothing, so I continued, “The will has certain…conditions.”

The man across from me leaned back, and in his gaze I saw the shadow of his grandmother. He was cut from the same cloth: intelligent, shrewd, and ruthless. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled in warning, but I took a breath and strengthened my resolve.

I was also intelligent, and I could learn to be ruthless if I needed to.

My father had been an awful, petty, vindictive man, and his will was the last dagger he’d stabbed into my heart from beyond the grave. I would not let him win. I would take the inheritance and use it to shape my life in the way I chose.

Steeling myself, I lifted my chin. “In order to collect the inheritance, I need to be married by the time I’m thirty.”

“And I’m the lucky guy who gets to make you a wealthy woman?” Jack’s brow arched as his lips shaped themselves into a bitter curve.

I pushed the documents on the table a little closer to him and gave him a small, sharp smile. “You’re the lucky guy who gets a hundred thousand dollars for the trouble of marrying me for a very short amount of time.”

His gaze finally dropped from mine, and I took a deep breath. I hadn’t realized just how much pressure his glare had exerted on me. He frowned as he read the contract, full lips pursing, long fingers coming up to stroke his jaw. Then he flicked his hand, dismissing the idea. “No.”

Hmm. Not what I’d expected. But judging by his grandmother’s estate, the family wasn’t wanting for money. Still…

“I read that your grandmother threatened to withhold your inheritance if you don’t go through with the marriages she arranges.” It was in a few of the more salacious articles I’d read when I was preparing to come here.

Jack shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t need handouts.”

I believed him, but after he spoke, his jaw clenched. That, combined with the vehemence with which he’d spoken about his daughter, gave me the ammunition I needed. I was familiar with the manipulations of a wealthy parent; I knew what his grandmother had used to turn the screws on him.

“She’s also threatening to withhold your child’s inheritance, isn’t she?”

His head snapped up, gaze blazing as it met mine. “Where did you hear that?”