Needed: One Convenient Husband(15)

Just as long as she didn't get pregnant.

* * *

Eva woke to the sound of the shower. She blinked at the enormous  old-fashioned room with its striped brown wallpaper and bare boards. She  was presently the sole occupant of the huge modern bed, which sat in  the center of the room.

Kyle stepped back into the room, wearing dark pants and a shirt he was  in the process of buttoning. Feeling exposed, Eva dragged the sheet up  to her chin before attempting to drape the sheet around her like a  sarong.

Kyle strapped on his watch. "We need to have a conversation before we go to work."

Eva tried for a smile as if waking up in some man's bed after  spur-of-the-moment sex was a very normal thing for her. "A conversation  would be good in just a few minutes."

She found her overnight bag and lugged it through to the bathroom,  which was still steamy from Kyle's occupancy. She quickly showered and  dressed. There was no dryer, so she had to be content with combing her  hair out straight. She quickly made up her face then checked her  appearance. When she saw a faint pink graze on her neck, where Kyle's  five-o'clock shadow must have scraped against her skin, the reality of  what they'd done last night hit her.                       
       
           



       

When Kyle knocked on the door, she stuffed the sheet she'd worn into a  laundry basket, hung up her towel and walked out into the hall. She was  still barefoot, and Kyle, now fully dressed in a dark suit with a blue  tie that made his eyes seem even bluer, towered over her.

She had hoped he might pull her into his arms and kiss her so they  could both relax and have the discussion they needed to have, but he had  his banker face on, cool, neutral and unreadable.

He glanced at his watch. "If we're going to get married, we should make arrangements."

Eva frowned at the way Kyle had casually leapfrogged the whole concept  of a proposal. She guessed it wasn't warranted in her case, because she  was the one seeking the marriage. Technically, Kyle was doing her the  favor, but he had checked his watch as if he didn't even have time to  talk about it.

Abruptly, she wondered if their lovemaking last night had meant  anything at all to him. Annoyed enough to keep him waiting, Eva reached  into her bag and found her cell, taking her time as she flicked through  to her calendar, which she already knew was packed full of consultations  that morning and clear for most of the afternoon, which meant she could  book a doctor's appointment directly after lunch.

His gaze shifted to her mouth, and for a shivering moment the sensual tension was alive between them.

"What's wrong?"

"That would be the marriage thing. You haven't exactly asked me."

There was a vibrating silence. "I thought I had."

With careful precision, Eva checked the next month's appointments, of  which, thankfully, there were a number. "I can recall something along  the lines of a command, followed by a business-type proposition."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but technically it is a business  proposition. If you become engaged to me, the marriage can be approved  immediately, since Mario made it clear his first preference for a  husband was a Messena. You should have access to your trust fund within a  couple of weeks. After two years, you receive the full inheritance."

When she continued to flick fruitlessly through her calendar, Kyle said  something soft and curt beneath his breath. They both knew her answer  had to be yes, but she was frustrated and terminally annoyed that after  the searing intimacy they'd shared last night, he was now treating her  as if she was an irritating pain in the rear again.

"Marry me, and you get the house."

She clamped down on the automatic burst of outrage that Kyle clearly  thought she was so materialistic that he could buy her with the house.  "I thought you bought the house for yourself."

He straightened away from the doorframe, but still didn't enter the  bedroom, his expression oddly cagey. "For the short term. It's a good  investment."

It occurred to Eva that after the passionate lovemaking last night,  Kyle was now doing his level best to create some distance. Maybe it was  just a masculine desire to compartmentalize. Whatever it was, it did not  work for her. The last thing she wanted was to be treated as some kind  of sexual convenience who could be bought.

She drew a deep breath. "Okay, I'll marry you. But what happened last  night can't happen again. If you want a marriage of convenience then it  has to be on the same terms I offered the others."

She hated saying the words; she had adored making love with Kyle, and  she wanted to do it again but she couldn't do so under these conditions.

The hum of a cell sounded from his jacket. The cool neutrality of his  expression, the same kind of expression she imagined he used at the  negotiating table, didn't alter. "No sex. Agreed."

Kyle reached for his cell and slid smoothly into a business  conversation, but Eva refused to let herself get either angry or  depressed about it. Last night had been special in a way she hadn't  expected, but this morning they had bounced back into the old,  aggravated relationship. But perhaps the fact that Kyle had pressed her  for marriage signaled that he wasn't as indifferent as he seemed.

It shouldn't be important, but she had to wonder exactly how Kyle had  viewed their night together, her first and only night with a man.  According to the gossip columnists, like all the ultrawealthy Messena  and Atraeus men, he was hotly pursued and had enjoyed a number of brief  liaisons. And, of course, she could not forget that he had been married.  On his scale of things, having sex with her had probably barely  registered.

Kyle terminated the call. "I'll apply for the marriage license today.  How about having the wedding the week after next? Thursday?"

The date he wanted was twelve days away. She had already checked her  calendar, so she knew that day was free. "Are you sure it has to be a  Thursday?" Who got married on a Thursday?                       
       
           



       

She did. Giddy pleasure fizzed through her, which was crazy and  dangerous, because she could not afford to project any kind of  romanticism into this business deal. She could not afford to make  herself any more vulnerable to Kyle than she already was.

Kyle leaned against the door, his gaze lingering on the rumpled bed.  "You can change the date if you want. I'll just have to check in with my  PA."

"Thursday will do." At least it would mean she would have more chance  of getting a venue she liked, because all the good ones would be booked  out on a weekend day.

"And Eva?"

She tried for her absentminded "I'm concentrating so hard on my  schedule that I can't hear you" look, although from the piercing quality  of Kyle's gaze she wasn't entirely sure she pulled it off. "What?"

"We need to keep the wedding low-key."

"What exactly do you mean by low-key?"

"I was thinking a registry office, two witnesses."

She stiffened as it occurred to her that while Kyle hadn't minded  sleeping with her, he was not entirely happy at being linked with her in  marriage. That maybe marrying a lingerie model did not fit so well with  his conservative banker's image.

She tucked her cell back in her bag. "Maybe the word you should have used to describe the wedding is secret?"

"There's not exactly time for a big wedding."

"And why would we have one when it's only for two years?"

A pulse started along the side of his jaw. "Precisely."

She forced a smooth, professional smile. "No problem. We can get married quietly."

But it would not be in a registry office, and it would not be a  hole-in-the-corner affair, as if Kyle was ashamed to be marrying her!





Eight

Shortly after nine that morning, Kyle's twin sisters, Sophie and  Francesca, who had both recently returned from a buying trip for  Sophie's boutique in Australia, cornered him at his favorite café. It  was a neat pincer operation that could only have been spearheaded by his  mother, whom he had made the mistake of ringing before he had left the  house for work. Sophie, who was normally sleek and unruffled, looked  haphazard in jeans and a cotton sweater, as if she'd left the house in a  hurry. Francesca, the more flamboyant of the two, looked pale and still  half-asleep.

Kyle braced himself. Both twins worked some distance away, and thus  they did not normally frequent this café, which was close to his bank.  He loved his sisters, they had stood by him through thick and thin, but  they had a take-charge streak and a facility for winkling out the truth  that tended to make things worse. "What do you want?"