Claiming His Wedding Night

‘You’re right. I did sign the letter,’ he said coolly. ‘But, like I said before, I sign hundreds of letters every week. I don’t read them all—or even write them, actually. Except those that are personal.’

‘You mean like a letter to your wife?’ Addie said acidly.

Malachi stared straight ahead. Her words stung, as she’d intended them to.

‘I suppose I asked for that.’

Feeling a stab of pain, Addie breathed out slowly. ‘Yes. You did.’

At least if he’d known nothing about the letter she might have been able to believe he would have acted differently. But how had he not noticed her name? Or remembered her charity? For a moment she contemplated asking him, but her pride forbade her from revealing the grinding ache of misery in her chest. Besides, what was the point? It was all too long ago to matter.

She heard him sigh.

‘I can understand how it might have looked to you. But it’s quite simple, really. We offer financial support to emerging charities for a fixed period—in your case five years. By that time we would expect the project to be up and running and the funding would be cancelled. My signing the letter was just a formality.’

A formality!

Her lips twisted.

What a perfect footnote to a marriage that had been nothing more than a business strategy—for Malachi, at least.

‘So,’ he said softly, ‘is that it? Are we good? Or is there something else you want to discuss?’

Her stomach gave a lurch as his words ricocheted inside her head. What did he mean? Something else you want to discuss. Was he just being polite? But even if a prickling tension hadn’t begun to spread over her skin she knew he wasn’t. She could hear the dare in his voice, the challenge, fluttering between them like a ribbon in a breeze.

Damn him. If Malachi wanted to talk about their relationship he could bring it up himself. Speaking to him had been a necessary evil. But she absolutely, definitely wasn’t going to make polite conversation with him. And she certainly didn’t want to discuss their marriage.

Or did she?

Her cheeks grew warm. Ringing Malachi had been a spur of the moment act. Confronted by what she’d seen as a deliberate act of provocation, she’d been swept along in a rush of anger and outrage. Only now her anger was slipping away, and reluctantly she found herself acknowledging the whole truth.

That she could simply have ignored the letter.

Or let a solicitor contact King Industries.

Or asked to speak to someone other than Malachi.

But she hadn’t because deep down, buried beneath the resentment and the pain and the hurt, she had wanted that chance to speak to him. She shivered. It had been reckless, stupid. But surely she could forgive herself that one moment of weakness. After all, didn’t every disappointed lover have some tiny sliver of longing to hold on to their fantasy of love?

But that didn’t mean she was ready to discuss her failed marriage with the man who had trampled on that selfsame heart. Any more than she’d been willing five years ago to share more than the barest details about herself —particularly those concerning her life-changing accident. It would have required a trust that simply wasn’t there.

She breathed in sharply. Right now, however, there were other less personal but more pressing matters to resolve. Like getting her funding back.

‘No. We’re not good! I accept that you didn’t personally choose to stop the funding but that doesn’t change the fact that it has stopped.’

She paused. Despite her bravado her heart had started to thump inside her chest. It had been easier when anger had been driving her. But ranting and raging was clearly not going to persuade Malachi to rethink his decision. That would require a softer, more conciliatory touch. Appalled, she licked her lips nervously. Stay neutral and stick to the facts, she told herself quickly. The funding was vital, the centre’s work lasting and beneficial, and of course his generosity would be much appreciated. But, first off she needed to test the water.

Lifting her chin, she said firmly, ‘Which is why I’d like you to change your mind.’

Malachi leaned back in his seat, a predatory smile curling his lip. It was a reasonable request. But it was still a request. One that he had the power to approve.

Or not.

‘As I explained,’ he said smoothly, ‘I receive many requests for financial support. You yourself know of many deserving charities in Miami.’

‘I do,’ she agreed hurriedly. ‘But the work we do with the children is enormously valuable and unique to the city.’

Standing up, Malachi stretched slowly and stifled a yawn. Could he be bothered to drag this conversation out any longer? The amount under discussion would barely make a dent in his billions. He could have a new agreement written up in minutes, sign it and say goodbye to Addie for ever. Or he could simply refuse to renew the funding and hand it over to his lawyers. Either way, in a matter of minutes she would be off the phone and out of his life for good.

His chest ached. Except now that she’d finally made contact with him saying goodbye was the last thing on his mind.

‘True enough,’ he said finally. ‘But, be that as it may, there would have to be exceptional circumstances for me to renew your funding.’

The phone twitched in her hand and holding it suddenly felt dangerous, as though it had morphed into a snake. There was a long, pulsing silence and Addie licked her lips again. His words were innocuous enough, but she could feel the danger shimmering behind them. Only, having come this far, what choice did she have?

She took a deep breath. ‘What kind of exceptional circumstances?’

Her voice sounded taut and high—too high. To her strained nerves it sounded desperate, needy—hardly the image she was striving to convey. As far as Malachi was concerned she wanted him to think that she was doing just fine. Better than fine, in fact. She wanted him to imagine her as gorgeous and successful—and utterly out of his reach.

Breathing in sharply, she glanced down at the letter on her desk and scowled. ‘What kind of circumstances?’ she repeated more steadily.

Malachi stared in silence out of the window. The sun was turning the sky a pale gold. It was going to be another beautiful day. A small smile curled his lips.

‘I don’t know,’ he said truthfully. ‘But I imagine I would have to look into the case closely...’ He paused, relishing the tension quivering down the phone line. ‘Very closely. In fact I would definitely have to meet with the applicant. In person.’

Addie held her breath. Her body seemed to have turned to liquid.

‘N-No!’ she stammered. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘But I do. I don’t just hand out money to anyone, you know.’

‘I’m not anyone!’ she snapped. ‘I’m your wife.’

Too late, she saw that she had fallen into his trap.

‘Which is another good reason for us to meet,’ he said slowly. ‘We can talk about our marriage.’

Her office suddenly felt airless. Her nerves were shrieking like a car alarm. Suddenly he wanted to talk about their marriage? Was he mad? Or deluded?

‘No, we can’t! I won’t. Dragging up the past isn’t going to change anything,’ she said shakily. ‘We just have to accept it was a mistake—’

‘Was it?’

Addie blinked. It had been a disaster. And Malachi knew that as well as she did.

‘Yes. It was.’ She spoke too quickly, the words keeping pace with her heartbeat. ‘I can’t imagine what I was thinking!’

‘Can’t you?’

She took a quick breath, almost like a gasp. His voice was slow and glowing with a heat that she could feel down the phone. A heat that crept under her skin and coiled around her heart so that suddenly she couldn’t seem to breathe properly.

‘That’s probably because what we shared had very little to do with thought, sweetheart.’

He paused and she felt the heat spike inside her.

‘Mostly it had to do with tearing each other’s clothes off.’

Addie swallowed. Her hand felt damp against the phone. A drumroll of fear and longing was beating so loudly that for a second she thought it was coming from outside of her body.

‘I don’t remember,’ she whispered.

‘I don’t believe you,’ he murmured. ‘I know you remember that time in the lift.’

She shivered. She did remember. Could remember it as if she were there now, watching herself and Malachi, his hand slipping beneath her dress, her body arching against his as she tugged feverishly at his belt.

With a pure effort of will she dragged her mind back to the present.

‘Apart from being irrelevant to this discussion, it was all a long time ago. So, no, I don’t,’ she lied. ‘Unlike you, Malachi, my life, like most people’s lives, does not just revolve around sex!’

‘You think? Then you’re either excessively naive or an extremely bad liar.’

She heard the amusement in his voice.

‘Sex drives all human life. What did you think our relationship was based on? A mutual love of seafood!’

Addie felt a dull pain start to throb in her chest. No. She hadn’t thought it was based on seafood. Fool that she was, she’d actually hoped and believed that their relationship had been based on love. An ache spread through her chest, hot and dark like a summer storm. Only love required honesty and trust, not secrets and lies. And neither of them had ever told the other the truth.

‘I don’t like seafood any more,’ she snapped. ‘Nor do I want to listen to your one-dimensional views on relationships. And I especially don’t want to discuss them, or anything else for that matter, with you in person.’

‘Really?’ he said in that slow, sexy drawl that made her blood hum and her skin turn to glue. ‘That’s a shame. You see, I was hoping you’d meet me for lunch so we could discuss your funding. You do want me to renew your funding, don’t you, sweetheart?’

Addie stood up, pushing her seat back with such force that it fell backwards onto the floor. But she barely noticed, such was her panic to block out that seductive velvet-smooth voice. And the urgent response of her body to it.

‘I’m not going to meet you for lunch, Malachi!’

‘You think dinner might be better?’ he said disingenuously, completely ignoring the fury in her voice. ‘I’m happy to do either. What do you fancy? French? Or what about some ceviche? There’s a great new Peruvian place just opened up.’

Dinner! A vein was pulsing painfully in her forehead and mechanically she pressed her fingers against it. ‘I don’t want to eat French or Peruvian,’ she said shrilly. ‘And I’m not meeting you for lunch or dinner or any other kind of meal.’

‘Pity!’ His voice was dark and loaded. ‘Because that’s the only way you’re going to get your funding out of me.’

‘Fine,’ she snarled. ‘Then I’ll just have to get the money some other way.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ he murmured. ‘You always were very imaginative, as I recall.’

Her temper finally snapped. ‘You are disgusting and I never want to speak to you again.’

He laughed. ‘I’m a little unclear. Did we agree on lunch or dinner?’

With a howl of fury, she hung up.

Still laughing, Malachi switched off his phone and dropped it onto the desk. He gazed thoughtfully across the plane’s cabin, wondering what she would wear when he saw her again. For, whatever she’d said, their meeting was as inevitable as the sun rising and setting. His heart began to thump; his blood was pumping, slow and heavy. Nor was it hate that had made her hang up on him. It was fear. She was scared—scared of the connection between them and her response to it.

And so she should be.

His grey eyes flared and feeling his groin harden, he let out a long, slow breath as a trickle of anticipation ran down his spine.

She might not have been the perfect wife he’d imagined, but Addie had never been boring. On the contrary—she had been feisty and stubborn and impulsive. Which meant that lunch—or, better still, dinner—was a foregone conclusion. All that remained was for him to choose a restaurant and a tie.

And, letting out a sigh of satisfaction, he settled back into his chair to enjoy the view.

CHAPTER TWO

‘NO. I QUITE UNDERSTAND.’ Trying her hardest to keep the note of disappointment out of her voice, Addie picked up her pen and drew a line firmly through the last name on the list in her notepad. ‘And thank you for giving me so much of your time.’

Flipping open her laptop, she scrolled slowly through the column of figures on the screen. Finally she let out a long, slow breath. It was hopeless. Despite all her efforts she had barely enough funds to cover next month’s rent and a few utility bills. Even if she added in her meagre savings she certainly couldn’t afford to pay her staff’s salaries.

Leaning back in her chair, she bit her lip. If she told them what had happened she knew they would offer to forego their pay. But why should they? she thought angrily. Why should they suffer because she had let her arrogant, maddening ex get under her skin?

Her head was pounding. And it wasn’t just because of her precarious finances. Speaking to Malachi again had stirred up feelings she had buried deep, deep down, and now she was battling emotions she still wasn’t ready to acknowledge or resolve.

Her heart gave a lurch. It wasn’t only her feelings she couldn’t face. She’d spent the last five years more or less pretending that her marriage had never happened. Now, in the space of twenty-four hours, she’d been forced to confront not only her husband but the state of estrangement between them.

Sighing, she slumped back in her seat and reluctantly contemplated the mess she’d made of her private life. Since splitting with Malachi she’d focused her energies on work. Yes, she’d been on a few ‘dates’ but no man ever quite measured up to him. But then she hadn’t just fallen for Malachi. She’d dived in headfirst, captivated not only by his looks and charm but by how he’d made her feel like her true self. The self she’d discovered through music and lost the night of her accident. Only through music had she felt able to be the real Addie—wild and free. And Malachi had made her feel like that too.

But not for long. Pretty soon she’d been out of her depth and drowning. Only by that time she’d become his wife.

Her pulse twitched and she shifted in her seat. It had all happened so long ago. So why were they still married?

As far as Malachi was concerned it was probably because he’d forgotten all about her until yesterday, when she’d called him, whereas she— Her face coloured painfully. She was still married because she was a coward. The thought of seeing him again had been just too painful. In the months following their separation she had vowed to confront him and demand a divorce, but she had always found a reason not to do so. And so the months had become years.

Five long years. In fact, tomorrow it would be five years exactly.

Remembering her wedding day—his tension, her confusion over his parents’ absence—she felt a shiver of sadness. It was obvious even then that what they’d shared was nothing more than physical attraction.

She frowned. But her marriage wasn’t the issue here.

She needed money, fast, and if having lunch with Malachi meant that she got her funding then maybe she should just call him. No doubt he was sitting there in his office, smugly waiting for her to do just that. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to help him choose a restaurant as if it was some kind of a date. Her eyes narrowed. She needed to do something to make it clear that she was meeting him on her own terms.

So why not surprise him at lunch? All she would have to do was follow him to wherever he was eating and confront him, and then finally she might wipe the self-satisfied smile from that gorgeous mouth of his. Easy!

Her breath jammed in her throat.

Easy?

One look from Malachi had once been enough to turn her into a rippling mass of desire. But not any more, she told herself firmly. For even if her body hadn’t learned the consequences of falling for that shimmering, sensual gaze her mind had, she had more sense and pride than to let it happen again.

* * *

Was it only lunchtime?

His grey eyes widening with disbelief, Malachi glanced at the one-of-a-kind Swiss-made watch on his wrist. Unusually for him, the day had seemed to drag—and his mind was only half on work. The other half was picking over his conversation with Addie.

Leaning back, he smiled slowly, remembering the frustration in her voice.

She’d been good and riled. But it wasn’t only exasperation that had made her so hot and bothered. He’d heard another kind of heat.

And just like that an image of Addie flared inside his brain. The soft pouting lips, glossy red curls and legs like a thoroughbred in the Kentucky Derby. All wrapped up in a take-it-or-leave-it manner that he’d had no choice but to take...

Breathing heavily, he shifted in his seat, remembering the feverish touch of her mouth against his, the heat between them blurring their edges so that it had been impossible to feel where she’d ended and he’d begun.

He smiled grimly. For most of his life he’d watched his mother and father use passion and emotion like poker dice, uncaring of the consequences. As an adult, away from their orbit, he’d sworn never to follow in their footsteps. His private life would be conducted in the realm of reason.

Only then he’d met Addie, and thrown away caution and control and broken every damn rule in the book.

A pulse began to beat in his neck and suddenly his chair felt cramped, confined. Standing up, he walked quickly across his office to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the gaming area of his flagship Miami casino. He breathed in sharply. There were nearly seven hundred gaming tables down there, not including the club privé, each one offering a change of fortune, a new beginning, a better life.

Watching people as they gave everything they had—sometimes literally—to the turn of a card or the roll of a dice seemed to him to represent the rawest, most pure expression of what it meant to be human. It was all there—hope and hunger, fear, and the desire to win. He found it fascinating, stimulating. But not as fascinating or stimulating as the thought of seeing his estranged wife again.

Staring down at the men and women, their faces tight with concentration, he felt a flicker of anticipation. She’d told him she never wanted to speak to him again. But she would. She’d have no choice. And not just because of the money.

His eyes gleamed.

So, where should he take her for lunch?

Snatching his jacket from the back of his chair, he tugged it on. Addie would no doubt refuse to meet him if there was even a hint that they would be alone together. A busy, open-plan restaurant would be better. His eyes gleamed again. He knew just the place.

Opening his door, he was met by the startled faces of his secretary, Chrissie, and her assistant.

‘I’m going out for lunch.’

‘But—’

The women glanced up at him in confusion.

‘You’re meeting Andy here at twelve-thirty,’ said Chrissie. ‘You always meet him.’

It was true. Most days he met his casino managers as they came on shift. But today was different.

‘So it’ll be a nice change for both of us,’ he said smoothly. ‘Call Eights. My usual table. And tell Andy I’m indisposed.’

‘Would you like your car to be brought round to the front, sir?’

Malachi shook his head and smiled. ‘No, thank you, Chrissie. I need a bit of fresh air.’

He ran a finger under his collar. After thinking about Addie, what he actually needed was a cold shower, but a tall chilled mojito might just be a tolerable alternative!

* * *

The restaurant was crowded with the usual mix of suave businessmen and glamorous, golden-limbed women. His table was set slightly apart from the other diners, with a view over the ocean. Like all the best views in the world, it was unchanging and yet never the same.

His choices made, he waved away the waiters and sat back, his eye drawn to the horizon between sea and sky, where dense black clouds hovered above the turquoise water. A storm was coming. According to the weather reports, it was due to hit land just after three. Not that he minded. A storm—bad weather in general—was good for business. But it meant that his lunch might have to be slightly curtailed.

His phone gave a small shudder and, turning, he glanced at it, his face expressionless. It was a message from Henry, asking him to call. But he didn’t want his father’s voice inside his head. Not when his mind was filled with thoughts of Addie.

He picked up his glass. The wine was an interesting choice, the crisp hint of apple surprising him. But it wasn’t the wine that caused him to put down his glass. It was the woman walking through the restaurant towards him.

Like every other man in the room, he watched her intently as she wove sinuously between the tables. He felt a rush of excitement. The weathermen had been wrong. The storm had already hit town. And her name was Hurricane Addie!

Staring defiantly ahead, Addie made her way across the room. Walking into the restaurant, she’d felt a fluttering panic. It was one thing deciding in anger to gatecrash his lunch and cajole him into renewing her funding—quite another to confront him in cold blood. In theory, she could tell herself that she no longer cared about him and that he was just another businessman on her list. She could even remind herself that he was the man who had lied to her face and broken her heart. But all that reason and logic had been forgotten when she’d pulled open the door and stepped into the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the room was packed with diners, she spotted him in a heartbeat. No one but Malachi had that invisible but tangible push-me-pull-me energy. Radiating out from him like rays from the sun, it tugged her gaze across the room to where he sat, gazing out at the ocean like some buccaneer on the high seas. She breathed in sharply, her hand rising involuntarily, protectively in front of her, as though to ward off the full intensity of his masculinity.

He was even more beautiful than she remembered, with his dark hair falling across his forehead, that sculpted poet’s profile and those eyes...the grey shifting and darkening like a constantly changing winter sky. He looked cool and relaxed in a tailored charcoal-grey suit that was a shade lighter than his eyes—and worth every cent of the billions of dollars he was rumoured to have made from his gaming empire.

Her head was spinning; the noise of the room sounded distant and distorted. But even though it was clear he still had the power to throw her off balance, she damn well wasn’t going to reveal that fact to Malachi.

Her hands curling into fists, she walked purposefully towards him and stopped in front of his table. Her back felt as if it was burning beneath the combined female envy in the room, but her blue gaze was cool and scornful as they stared at one another in silence.

It was she who spoke first. ‘You wanted to have lunch with me.’ Her voice was husky, her cheeks flushed with colour. ‘So here I am.’

‘Yes, you are,’ he said softly. He stared in undisguised appreciation at the clinging black dress. Or rather at the swelling curves beneath the fabric. ‘You look incredible, sweetheart. Life must be treating you well. I feel like I should be the one asking you for money.’

Addie lifted her chin. ‘Who knows? Maybe one day you will be.’ She rested one slim hand on her hip. ‘So, are you going to ask me to sit down? Or have you changed your mind?’

‘In that dress? Not a chance. Come and join me.’ Patting the seat beside him, he grinned as, ignoring his gesture, Addie sat down on the opposite side of the table.

As though her arrival had triggered some hidden switch, not one but two waiters immediately appeared beside them, and her shoulders lowered with relief as the daunting prospect of being on her own with him was temporarily postponed. But her reprieve couldn’t last for ever and finally they were alone.