Claiming His Wedding Night

Staring at the screen in front of him, Malachi shifted slowly in his seat, waiting, thinking, deliberating.

Until two minutes ago her letter had just been one of the many that were handed to him every week. And yes, he’d signed it. But did she really believe he would do such a thing to her charity out of malice? His face tightened. Probably, and he knew she had reason to think so, but he didn’t like the fact that she thought so badly of him.

‘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.