A Contract, A Wedding, A Wife?

‘Great, that’s great.’ She could hear the relief in his voice. ‘I’ll arrange for a solicitor to draw up a pre-nuptial contract and another one that states the terms of our deal, which we’ll both need to sign.’ His tone was professional again now.

‘I’ll give notice at the register office that we want to get married but we’ll have to wait twenty-eight days before we can legally perform the ceremony. The closest one is near St Pancras Station, but I’m assuming you won’t have an issue with where the formality of it takes place.’ It wasn’t a question, she realised. ‘It’s not like we’ll be having a big celebration with friends and family,’ he added when she didn’t reply right away.

‘Er, no, that’s fine.’ The words came out sounding confident, but something deep in her chest did a strange, sickening sort of flip. This really wasn’t the way she’d imagined it happening. Getting married. But, as he’d rightly pointed out, this wasn’t meant to be a romantic event, it was a business transaction and should be treated as such. There was no room for any kind of emotional attachment. She’d make sure her real wedding, to the guy who loved and cherished her, was a big, exciting affair, with all her friends and family present. That one would be a cause for a true celebration. She just needed to keep that in mind when she signed the register. True love would come later in her life, when she finally had the time and energy to consider it a possibility.

‘Okay, good. I’ll let you know the details as soon as I’ve set it up. I’ll need some personal documents from you which I’ll swing by and pick up tomorrow, if that works for you?’

‘N-no problem,’ she stuttered, feeling suddenly as though her life was running away from her a little.

It’s not surprising; you’re getting married in a month.

A shiver of nerves tickled down her spine.

There was a lot to sort out before then, not least accepting the university place for Domino and finding a full-time carer for her mum, as well as giving notice at the gastro pub and hiring someone to cover her shifts at the café.

The mere thought of all the work and organisation ahead of her was exhausting.

This is for the family, she reminded herself as panic threatened to engulf her. And it’s only temporary.

In a year’s time her life would have taken on a whole new shape. She was doing this for all the right reasons and once she and Xavier were divorced she’d be free to fall in love and get married for real.

With that thought in mind, she told Xavier goodbye and hung up.

Trying to ignore the now almost overwhelming wave of nerves, she turned off all the lights in the café, hid a yawn behind her hand and trudged up the narrow staircase to the flat, first to check that her mother didn’t need anything, then to spend the next hour or so planning how best to kick-start the beginning of her brand-new life.

CHAPTER THREE

Scrabble—choose your words carefully.

THEIR WEDDING DAY was glorious. At least the weather was, with the sun pouring in on them through the large picture widows of the register office as they stood at the desk reciting the lines they were asked to say.

The huge room, with its rows of chairs facing the desk, was eerily empty except for Xavier and Soli, the registrar, Xavier’s friend Russell—the only friend he’d confided in and who had drawn up the contracts in his other role as a solicitor—and one other witness, who was a complete stranger to them all. Xavier had approached him outside on the street, pretending that their second witness had been delayed in traffic, and offered him a wad of cash for half an hour of his time.

Glancing around the room, he remembered all too well the last time he’d been in a place like this as echoes of a clawing sense of shame and dread pricked at his skin. He’d promised himself he’d never set foot in a register office again and hadn’t attended a wedding since his own disastrous debacle. He’d actually intended to avoid them for the rest of his life, if at all possible.

But he hadn’t counted on his Aunt Faith’s iron-like will.

So here he was again.

At least this time the bride had turned up and actually married him.

Well, you got what you wanted, Aunty. I hope you’re happy now.

Soli, to her credit, didn’t say a thing about the lack of guests or the stranger signing the marriage register beneath her name. In fact, she’d seemed more than happy to let him deal with all the arrangements and go along with whatever he’d asked her to do. She’d told him it had meant she’d been able to focus fully on making the necessary arrangements for her family and the café before she came to live with him. Apparently her sister was off to live in Oxford over the summer to earn rent money at a job she’d found there before her first year began and her mother now had a full-time carer living in the flat with her. All thanks to his money.

Not that he resented it. It meant he was able to achieve exactly what he wanted after all.

In his experience, money always smoothed the way. It was the only thing he could ever really rely on.

‘Congratulations,’ the registrar said to the two of them once the ceremony had come to a close. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the lack of guests or the sombreness of the occasion, but Xavier guessed she must have seen it all in the course of her duties.

‘Thank you,’ he said, giving her a nod of gratitude.

‘Yes, it was a lovely service,’ Soli added with a barely discernible quaver in her voice.

He glanced at her, wondering whether she was having a moment of regret, but she just smiled back at him as if nothing in the world was wrong. He appreciated her professionalism.

He’d not really looked at what she was wearing when they’d met in the lobby only minutes before their slot because the registrar had come straight over to introduce herself then whisked them straight in, but as he surveyed Soli now he realised she’d made a real effort with her appearance today.

Her wild curls had been tamed into an elegant up do and she’d put on more make-up than he’d previously seen her wear, which accentuated her big bright eyes and full, rosebud mouth.

The simple cream-coloured sheath dress she wore exposed her slim, toned arms and flowed over her curves, drawing his gaze to the tantalising swell of her breasts under the thin fabric.

Hoping she’d assume he was looking at the small posy of flowers she clutched in front of her, he cleared his throat and raised his eyes to give her a tight smile.

Yes, she definitely looked the part. She was a very attractive woman and no one would find it strange that he’d chosen to marry her. At least on the surface. As long as she kept her mouth shut about the terms of the deal they’d worked out, his secret would be safe.

Hopefully there wouldn’t be many opportunities for their charade to be discovered anyway. He’d asked her to be ready to attend functions with him but he wasn’t actually intending to take her along to many. Just one or two, so it didn’t look odd if anyone checked up on them.

He’d already alerted his great-aunt’s solicitor to the fact he was getting married and had been told to expect spot checks in the next few months, just to satisfy her conditions. After a year the title deeds to the house would pass into his name.

Then he’d be free to live his life as he chose again.

One year wasn’t too long a time to maintain this farce. He could manage it.

‘Well, Mrs McQueen, now that’s over, shall we get out of here?’ he suggested once the registrar had departed, more than ready to leave the place now.

To his surprise Soli pressed her lips together and pulled a mock horrified face. ‘You know, I thought Solitaire Saunders was bad, but Solitaire McQueen?’ She raised both eyebrows. ‘My father will be dancing with glee in his grave.’

The sad edge to her voice gave him pause. ‘How did your father die? If you don’t mind me asking?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I guess you should know now that we’re husband and wife.’ Taking a breath, she pushed her shoulders back a little, as if using the action to give her courage. ‘He was knocked off his bike by a guy who was texting whilst driving. He died instantly.’

A prickle of horror rushed up Xavier’s spine. ‘Ah, hell, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.’

There was an awkward pause while she blinked back the tears that had pooled in her eyes.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, smiling bravely. ‘I still miss him every day, but he’d want to know we were all getting on with our lives without him.’ She glanced down at the slim white gold ring he’d placed on her finger only minutes ago with an expression of incredulity on her face, then flashed him a wry smile. ‘I’m not sure what he’d think about me marrying a stranger though.’

‘I’m sure he’d approve if he knew you were doing it for the right reasons,’ Xavier pointed out.

Nodding, she let out a small chuckle. ‘Yeah, I’d like to think so. He always said I’d get myself in a knotty situation one day with my impulsiveness, but I don’t think this was quite the scenario he had in mind.’

Her cheeks had flushed an attractive shade of pink and he had the strangest urge to stroke his fingers across her skin and feel the heat he knew must be there.

Don’t be a fool, McQueen.

Instead he nodded jerkily in response to her joke, then gestured towards the exit. ‘Well, anyway, we should leave the room before the next wedding party arrives,’ he said stiffly, wishing he didn’t sound like such an uptight prig.

Giving her body a small jiggle, as if shaking off her melancholy, Soli nodded in agreement.

He marched ahead of her, trying to blank his mind of the way her voluptuous body had shimmied in his vision as he held the door open for her.

A hubbub of noise surrounded them as they entered the lobby and walked through a large group of people that had gathered there, presumably to attend the next marriage that was taking place in the room they’d just vacated.

Russell and the other witness appeared beside them as they made their way towards the exit. Xavier hadn’t noticed them slipping out while they were talking to the registrar, but he suspected Russell had suggested they made themselves scarce so he wouldn’t find himself having to answer any awkward questions.

‘Let’s go out to the front of the building and I’ll take a couple of photos of you both in your wedding gear, then we’ll see if we can grab a passer-by to take one with the four of us in it,’ Russell murmured into his ear.

‘Good idea,’ Xavier agreed, heading towards the large doors at the other side of the vestibule.

Once outside, they posed next to the register office sign while Russell fiddled with his XLR camera, which he stood on a tripod. Once it was set up, he directed them to stand closer together, with Xavier’s arm around Soli’s waist and her body pressed close to his. They shuffled awkwardly into the pose and Russell had just taken the first photo when a loud and uncomfortably familiar voice boomed out behind them.

‘McQueen? Is that you, old boy?’

Turning reluctantly, with his heart in his mouth, Xavier came face to face with the one person he really could have done without bumping into today.

‘Hugo. Good to see you. What brings you here today?’ he said, letting go of Soli and taking a deliberate step in front of her so she was obscured from Hugo’s line of sight as he shook the man’s hand.

‘A colleague’s getting married and I promised to attend.’ He leaned towards Xavier conspiratorially and cocked an eyebrow. ‘He’s on track to become my boss one day soon so I thought I’d do the smart thing and turn up today. Show willing, you know?’

‘Sure. I hear you,’ Xavier said. He knew exactly how these old boy networks worked. It wasn’t wise to snub someone who had the potential to either help your career or ruin it for you in the future.

‘Is Veronica with you?’ Xavier asked, a little panicked at the thought of having to save face in front of Hugo’s scarily perceptive wife as well.

‘No, she’s off on some girls’ retreat, lucky mare!’ he said loudly, adding in a jovial guffaw for good measure. It seemed Xavier’s attempt to hide Soli hadn’t been successful, though, because Hugo leaned to one side to peer past him. ‘And who is this, may I ask?’

Xavier swallowed down his exasperation. ‘This is Soli.’

She took a step forwards and held out her hand, giving Hugo a warm smile. ‘Solitaire McQueen,’ she said, as if happy to have the opportunity to test out her new name for the first time.

Bad timing, Soli. Very bad.

Not that she could have known that.

‘McQueen, you say?’ Hugo boomed, giving Xavier a confused glance, then looking towards where Russell stood with the camera. ‘Have the two of you—’ he waggled a finger between them ‘—just got married?’

‘Yes, just a few minutes ago,’ Soli confirmed, to Xavier’s chagrin.

‘Well. You are a dark horse, McQueen. We had no idea marriage was on the cards for you.’ Hugo’s confused frown deepened as he looked between the two of them.

‘No, well, it all happened very quickly,’ Xavier said, his heart sinking through his chest. ‘We’ve dated on and off for years but only recently decided we should make a proper go of it,’ he lied, silently begging his friend to take him at his word.

‘Really?’ Hugo said with a tinge of disbelief in his voice. ‘It happened so quickly you couldn’t even wait to invite your friends to the wedding?’

Damn. He was well and truly busted. He’d never hear the end of it from his old friends now.

‘Neither of us wanted a big do,’ Xavier said gruffly, feeling heat rise up his throat. The last thing he needed was Hugo and his old social group to find out he’d had to pay Soli to marry him in order to keep his family home. He hated the idea of that getting back to Harriet. His humiliation really would be complete then.

‘We thought we’d have a party for close friends and family some time in the near future,’ he said, deciding the only thing to do was to bluster his way through this.

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