Chapter 9
JANE
The familiar, blacked-out luxury sedan idled on the curb outside my family’s house. For the last ten minutes, I’d been sitting by the window in the foyer looking at it, but I wasn’t sure how long he had been out there.
It was also a total mystery to me whether Alex was going to come in or if he was waiting for me to come out. At this point, it was safe to assume he had my phone number, even if I hadn’t given it to him myself.
Between Colin and Zach’s friendship, my mother and his father’s agreement, and their intention of acquiring our company regardless, I had no doubt that he had the means to contact me. He just hadn’t done it yet, so I hadn’t known he was coming and I didn’t know what he was expecting to happen next.
The last thing I needed to deal with this morning was my future husband lurking outside my home. To say I’d slept like shit last night was the understatement of the century.
I sipped a cup of tea, watching the snow fall and the car continue to idle, wondering what was going through his head right now. Whether he was going through the same myriad of emotions I was.
Somehow, I sincerely doubted it.
When my mom had told me that Douglas Westwood had offered one of his sons in marriage in exchange for the two board seats I was entitled to upon my own marriage, I think I went blind.
Everything had gotten hazy and dark, and when I’d come to, I’d still been standing there, watching her excitedly explain why this was the answer to all our problems.
How Douglas had found out about those seats, I would probably never know, but it was a good guess Mom had come right out and told him. She might not have had much time or respect for them back in the day, but we were living in a very different time now.
Back when it’d been time for the board to appoint a new CEO, either me or Andrew, Mom, Colin, and I had pored over every Thayer document we’d been able to get our hands on.
If it hadn’t been in one of the boxes the authorities had carried out like ants stocking up on paper to feed on for a decade of winters, we’d read through it.
Mom had been desperate to find a way to use her votes to appoint me, but it had been useless. Without the support of the board, we just hadn’t been able to gain the majority.
Now, however, we would have that majority vote, allowing me to finally step in and take over. Although the part that had made Mom even more excited had been, “The Westwood money would start funneling into our accounts immediately. This is perfect, Jane. It saves us all.”
“Who?” I vaguely remembered asking, and that was all I’d said during the entire conversation, because my future had been decided and I knew it.
Arranged marriages were rare in our family but not unheard of. We still had deep marriage traditions though, even if it wasn’t necessarily all about arrangements. The most important of those traditions, of course, was marrying for the benefit of the family estate at large.
Rejecting this offer would effectively seal my family’s fate—and definitely would not benefit us. Sliding a ring on my finger and filing joint taxes with a man I barely knew, but badly wanted to hate even though I didn’t have any reason to?
Do I even have boundaries to cross anymore? I almost snorted out loud at the thought. No, I don’t think I do.
As I refocused on the window, I realized the car had turned off. The lights weren’t on anymore and the steam that had been coming from the exhaust was gone.
I didn’t move from my perch in the foyer as I watched Alex walk up the snowy steps, looking just as worn and conflicted as I was, which made me feel a little better.
If he’d seemed all smug and cocky about it, I didn’t know how I would’ve been able to go through with it, but he didn’t want this just as much as I didn’t want it. Somehow, his suffering made the pill a little easier to swallow. At least we would be suffering together.
I lifted my chin, trying to breathe through the realization that if this happened—and it was probably going to—I would be his wife soon. That man out there with the snow lightly dusting his rich brown hair and the shoulders of his gray, wool coat was going to be my husband.
On the other hand, it was just a marriage. The Westwoods were known for their unorthodox arrangements in that arena. This shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise to him. That family was obsessively protective of their wealth, their legacy, and their traditions.
Although, after what had happened to our family just because my father had royally fucked up, maybe arranged marriages weren’t such a crazy idea after all. They still had their wealth, their legacy, and their traditions. We had a brownstone, social anxiety, and a weekly food budget.
Alex’s breath came out in puffs of white mist. He knocked on the door, then eased back on his heels and slid his hands into his pockets as he waited.
Part of me wanted to leave him out there for a little while, at least make him work for it that much, but when I saw a visible shiver run through him, I remembered how he’d stopped when I’d been freezing on the sidewalk and I reluctantly rose.
My feet felt like they’d been encased in concrete on my way to the front door, the death march from Star Wars playing through my mind like a bad joke.
I closed my fingers around the doorknob, unable to remember how to turn it for a moment, but once I did, I let the door swing open and found myself facing my future husband for the very first time since we’d both found out we were betrothed.
Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve been flung back in time to nineteenth century England?
For a long minute, neither of us said anything. We just stared at each other, those piercing green eyes so intense today that they almost stole my breath, but then I steeled myself, opening the door wide enough for him to pass through.
“Come on in,” I said quietly. “It’s freaking freezing outside today.”
“Thanks.” He brushed past me neatly, without touching any part of me at all, and yet, I was so aware of his sudden proximity and the scent of him that I nearly fainted. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
Has his voice always been that gentle? That gravelly? Twenty-four hours ago, I’d been sure that I’d heard his voice echo through my mind so often, I would have been able to pick it out of a lineup blindfolded, but it seemed so different now that it was almost unfamiliar.
I glanced at him, noticing the knot at the back of his jaw as he waited for my answer. “Sure. Follow me.”
Spinning on my heels and trying not to be embarrassed by the fact that I was wearing fluffy slippers, I led him upstairs to my bedroom. After waving him in ahead of me, I shut the door behind us and leaned against it, the space suddenly seeming so much smaller with him in it.
He really did have a larger than life presence. What did Colin call it? Oh. Right. That I-can-run-a-small-country energy. Yeah. He’s definitely got that.
At first, Alex made a visible, concerted effort not to look around.
He kept his coat on and his hands in his pockets, just standing between my bed and the dresser like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, but then being in my space seemed to get the better of him and those green eyes finally broke away from mine to dart around the room.
I watched him carefully, curious about how he’d react and what he’d do. Somehow, though, Alex always managed to surprise me.
Instead of a mocking smirk about me still living in my childhood bedroom or the girly, floral comforter, a faint, but almost fond smile ghosted across his lips and he drifted to my bookshelf.
Silently, he picked up a few books and slid his thumb across the well-used spines.
He examined a few knickknacks I’d picked up on my travels before my world had imploded, then gently put it all back down again in precisely the places where he’d found them.
It took me a few minutes of watching him to realize he was in no hurry at all, that piercing gaze drinking in every inch of my bedroom like he was learning from it. Eventually, I sat down on the stool at my vanity, content to let him look at whatever he wanted to.
We were going to be married soon, and even if it wouldn’t be a real marriage, we would have to get used to being in each other’s personal space.
He finally turned to me once he’d reached my nightstand, his eyes dropping to the drawer for just a fraction of a second, like he knew what was in there, and I fought the heat that threatened to rise to my cheeks.
“You likely know why I’m here,” he said slowly, his voice still gentler and a little rougher than I remembered it. “Do you want me to explain the offer before I present the arrangement the way I see it?”
For whatever reason, the fact he’d come here and hadn’t just assumed I was in the dark about this made me feel better. Better about all of this.
In return, I did him the courtesy of looking right into his eyes and responding genuinely instead of with some snarky, snide remark. “I’m aware of what your family offered mine, yes.”
He gritted his teeth for a moment and then shook his head. “Not my family. Not your family, either. This, at its essence, would be between me and you. A marriage.”
“On paper.” I turned to the vanity, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror. Technically, I was still looking into his eyes. I’d just needed to do it some other way than directly. “I assume you have boundaries you’d like to set.”
“Then you’re considering it?”
“I’ve already decided.” I drummed my fingers on the antique wood. “I’ll marry you as long as you give me your word that when the time comes to oust my uncle as CEO and vote in my favor, you’ll do it. Otherwise, I won’t sign a thing.”
“Of course, I’ll be on your side.”
I felt my eyebrows arch as I stared at him, my head tilting slightly. I didn’t really want to grill him, but I had to. Suddenly, I was ready to dive in. At its core, this was a negotiation and I was good at those. Great even.
“The only reason either of us is considering this is because we both have something to gain.”
“Correct.”
Relieved that he’d admitted it so readily and so easily, I drew in a deep breath, encouraged to keep being direct with him.
“I want my family’s company and so do you.
At least being married, we can have both, but if you think for a second I’d ever let you take this from me?
” My voice was suddenly shaking as I beat down the emotions I was usually a master at keeping under wraps.
“I’ll end you, Alex. Brutally. Don’t underestimate me. ”
“I never have.”
He looked at me so intently that it felt like his gaze was peeling back the layers of armor I’d built around myself. God, I’d spent years doing everything I could to never end up in this situation—dependent on a man.
Men had let me down all my life, but I’d raised my brothers to be different. At least, I hoped I had. They were good men and I didn’t want them to think I was suddenly giving up or that a situation like this was okay. Normal.
Tears pressed at the backs of my eyes, burning like hellfire as I thought of them. My brothers. Of what they might think, but I refused to cry even though I suddenly really wanted to.
Alex must have seen the crinkle of my eyes as I blinked, because he spoke again, even gentler this time.
“I know we don’t know each other at all.
Honestly, it even seems unfair, accepting this arrangement with you and moving forward with a marriage.
I’ll be completely honest with you here, Jane. I’m not the kind of man you deserve.”
Silently shocked by this admission, my head cocked again, confusion racing through me, but he gave me a slightly self-deprecating smile and kept going.
“You’re going to make me look like a better man on paper, Dr. Thayer.
Meanwhile, I barely finished my MBA, only making it by the skin of my teeth, and I hardly remember a thing from college. ”
I leaned forward a little, too curious and stunned that he was speaking to me like this to even try to hide how interested I was in hearing this story. “You don’t remember?”
“Not much.” He shrugged, slowly moving back and sitting down on the very foot of my bed.
Those eyes became a little unfocused. “Let’s just say that I wasn’t the best or the most dedicated scholar.
I was too busy getting drunk and, uh, full disclosure, I may also have had a bit of a reputation for sleeping with anything that showed interest.”
My insides revolted at that, but I forced myself to swallow the irrational stab of jealousy when he blinked himself back to the present. “I was handed everything I have because I was born a Westwood.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that I nearly fell off the stool, but then he rose from my bed and pulled a thin file from inside his coat. “This is our prenup. I’ve already signed it. If there’s anything you don’t agree to, all you have to do is tell me and I’ll change it.”
“You’ve already signed it?” I asked lamely. I flipped it open, motioning for him to wait as I started reading through it.
It was pretty basic. Mostly what I expected, but then I turned another page and my jaw practically detached itself from my body. If we stayed married for a year, I would get five million dollars and ten percent of his shares in Westwood and Sons, which was a lot of money.
If we divorced before year end, I was entitled to nothing of his, but after the first year, it would be a fifty/fifty split. That, in itself, was more than just generous. It was insane.
I looked up at him, finding his gaze already pinned on mine. “Do you have a pen?”
He slid one out of his inside pocket, deftly handing it over and then watching me as I scribbled my signature where it needed to go.
I didn’t bother signing with any kind of flourish, and I simply snapped the folder shut when I was done and handed it, as well as the stupidly expensive branded pen, back to him.
He took it, sliding it all back into his coat.
I turned back to the mirror, needing to make myself look busy.
I didn’t want to crumple into a puddle of dread in front of him and I felt it coming, the meltdown of epic proportions.
He walked up behind me, waiting until I met his gaze in the reflection again.
“I suppose we need to get to know each other. Would you like to go grab a cup of coffee?”