Chapter Nine

Jenna sank back on her heels as she knelt in the huge, walk-in closet in the master bedroom. It had been a long, tedious day. She put the last pair of her shoes on the shelf and slowly looked around. His clothes were all around her. Suits, dress shirts, jeans. All lined up and in precise order. There was nothing out of place. By comparison, her clothes now hung in one small area of the closet, taking up a tenth of the space of his. Her apparel was here now, in his closet, by his command.

The day was almost over. Everything she owned was in his house now, moved from the basement of the brownstone where she had been living. Her stomach tightened.

She had made another attempt at breakfast to tell him she thought they had made a hasty mistake. He had squashed her attempt at communicating and hustled her out the door and into his vehicle in the blink of an eye.

Jenna heard a noise at the door leading into the bedroom and looked up from the incongruous sight of her shoes lined up next to his.

David stood in the doorway watching her. He casually lifted his hand and motioned for her. "You finished here, baby? I want to talk to you."

Jenna lifted herself from the floor with an unconsciously graceful movement and turned toward him. He was watching her with a penetrating stare and her footsteps stalled. He reached out, took her hand, and led her into the bedroom where he motioned for her to sit in one of two armchairs that sat in an alcove of the room.

She quietly sat and tried to control the turmoil racing through her. Her outward appearance was calm, demure even, but inwardly, she was a mess. She folded her hands in her lap and raised her eyes to his.

"I don't want you to go to work tomorrow. Your job is finished."

Jenna continued to sit silently and watch him. So this was it. She hadn't expected it quite this soon. She knew he was going to make her quit, but to not even let her go in another day and say goodbye. . .

He continued. "I don't want you put in a position where you have to answer questions. You'd get a million of them, and it would be constant. I'm trying to protect you, baby. You're so sweet and honest." Jenna felt an arrow of guilt slide through her as she listened to his speech. "I can tell you have a problem with lying, and that's as it should be, but in this instance a small amount of fabrication can't be helped. I'll be better at it than you. I'll handle it."

Jenna waited for the pulse of three heartbeats. "I'm not taking the money."

There was a silence in the room and then he spoke, scowling. "Jenna--"

She cut him off. "No. I'm not taking the money. I made a mistake and now I have to live with it." She paused. "For awhile. I married you. I get that. Stupid of me, I know. I'll stay and live up to my side of the agreement about making this look like a real marriage. But I do not have to and I will not take your money." Her heart hammered and her body trembled as she waited for his reaction.

David stood over her, watching the mutinous lines of her body. For awhile? She wanted to throw that in his face again? Not even two days married, and she couldn't wait to get away from him. Bullshit. She wanted to issue him fucking ultimatums? He had one for her. "If you don't take the money, you negate the two year clause in the contract. That's fine with me. But you won't get a quick divorce, baby. I'll contest it and you'll be stuck with me for a long, long time. Your choice."

"Wh-why?" Her voice shook.

"Why do you think?" He punched the words out.

"I d-don't know."

He didn't answer her. He didn't respond in any way, only continued to watch her.

Jenna felt his burning look boring into her. His scowl deepened and his shoulders squared as sexual heat and aggression radiated from him. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to maintain control.

Jenna bit her lip and tried again. "Are you saying you want the marriage to last longer?"

"That's fine."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm sick of you saying that you're ready to leave. To quit before we even get started. I'm tired of hearing you say you want out, that you don't want to stay married."

"David, we don't even know each other. I'm only trying to be sensible. How can this work?"

"How can it work when we're already planning a divorce?"

"Are you saying you want to make it work? Like forever?"

"I'm saying I don't want to keep hearing you throw it in my face every two seconds that it's short-term. That all you want to do is get out of it and go find some fucker to sleep with."

Shock hit her full in the face. "I didn't say that. I'm not--I'm not even thinking of sleeping with anyone else--"

"That's good. Because you're not."

He held himself rigidly, braced for more confrontation.

"Then you're talking about monogamy?"

"I told you that before this started, Jenna. You knew that's what I had in mind."

She shook her head, clearly trying to understand. "I'm trying to wrap my head around this. You're okay with me not taking the payment as long as I agree to longer terms?"

He slashed his hand through his hair in aggravation. "No fucking terms!"

Jenna sucked in a breath, shock coursing through her. "David, we spoke for the first time not even a week ago. You bribed me into a marriage for your convenience, a short-term deal, and now you're saying all bets are off?" She came to her feet on legs that trembled. "What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed." His eyes ran over her length. "It's the same fucking way it's been for the last six months, only worse."

Jenna slowly scooted around him toward the door. "You want a real marriage." Her words were a softly spoken accusation.

He glared at her as she sidled toward the door. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere far. Calm down. I'm going to have a bath and think." They stared at each other, electric currents passing between them. He took a step toward her.

"Jenna, I--"

"Later, David. We'll talk later." She fled the room.

****

Jenna came down the steps an hour later half expecting him to be in the chair waiting for her. He wasn't. It was late, they had eaten supper long before. All she wanted was to curl up in bed and go to sleep. She wanted a bed to herself, but she knew that wouldn't be acceptable to him. Besides, don't lie to yourself, she really wanted to sleep in his arms.

She saw a soft light glowing from his office and decided to try to get to sleep before he came to bed. She walked through to the master bedroom. She was already in her nightgown, and she slipped into bed. The sheets were cool to the touch and she laid her head down on the pillow, wrapping her arms around it.

Her thoughts raced. He wanted a real marriage. Why?

The bathroom light clicked on and the shower started running. Ten minutes later, he dropped the towel from his hips and let it fall to the floor. Her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation, and he crawled into the big bed and took her in his arms. Holding her in the circle of his embrace, his chest cradling her back, she felt him softly kiss her hair in the darkness.

"You awake, baby?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He kissed her hair again and took a deep breath. "I want you without a contract. I want you without an exchange of money, without a deadline on the marriage. I want you to want that, too."

She turned over in his arms to face him. Emotion pulsed from his body into hers. The look on his face was conflicted. Tenderness coursed through her. "Okay." Her answer was simple.

His grip tightened. "Thank you."

"D-David?" Her voice was hesitant. "Was it--was it all subterfuge? Is there really a reason you need a wife for office politics?"

He sighed. His fingers slid from her back and lifted her nightgown to her waist and caressed her silky hip. "I'll tell you, but first I want to know something. Are you my wife? Or are you the girl from the accounting department?"

His touch was doing crazy things to her heart rate. "I'm your wife."

His hand stilled a moment and then clenched even tighter. "Craig thought a wife would help me attain the presidency when my uncle steps down. It was his idea and I was humoring him. I'm not worried about it. When the time comes, the job will be mine, wife or no wife."

She wiggled against him as his hand swirled to her upper thigh and back over her hip. "But you told me--"

"It was an excuse, baby." He lifted her thigh and draped it over his waist, running his hand up and over the silk of her panties. She sucked in her breath.

"He was arguing with me about it, and suddenly there you were, popping up and offering to make my wet dreams come true." He slid her panties off her hips and pushed them down her legs and off completely.

His finger slid to her sweet spot and pressed softly against her, teasing her. His voice dropped an octave. "By that time I'd have done anything to get in your panties." His finger moved down to her tight opening and her wet heat almost unmanned him. He slipped his finger inside. "Seeing you, day after day, and not being able to touch you, or talk to you." He manipulated his finger inside her, rubbing the top wall of her vagina, swirling in a pattern that had her undulating against him. "You were driving me crazy, baby. I couldn't date you, couldn't ask you out, couldn't fucking touch you." His head reached down and he put his mouth on her nipple through her nightgown. The fabric became wet immediately where he tried to get to her soft skin.

He lifted his head and pressed his lips to her ear. "I wanted you so fucking bad and every time I saw you there was fear in your eyes. I scared you shitless and there was no damn way I could make a move on you."

He rolled to his back and lifted her over him, held himself poised at the cusp of her wet, silky opening. "No more talk. You're mine. You're staying mine." He pushed up into her as she slid down and met him. He groaned and sucked in a shuddering breath. "I'll go fucking crazy if I have to think about giving this up." His slid her up and down with his hands grasping her hips. "Don't make me give this up, baby."

Jenna's eyes closed as intense pleasure slammed through her. "No, I won't."