Playboy Billionaire

By Cherie Mitchell
 
Playboy Billionaire by Cherie Mitchell 2019 ©
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
 Chapter One
Arial
Arial stared down at the letter that Mr. Robins had just placed in her
hand, unable to comprehend its meaning. "What's this?" she stuttered as her
eyes stumbled across words she'd never expected to see when she first
walked into his office just a few minutes ago.
Mr. Robins, a pasty-faced man who wore dull brown suits and ate
copious amounts of breath mints, which he often sent Arial out to buy for
him when she had other more important things to do with her time,
carefully arranged his face into the appropriate expression of compassionate
sympathy. "I'm sorry, Arial. After the difficulties of the past year, the
company is in a position where there is no alternative than to start cutting
costs and unfortunately, the younger and less experienced employees are the
first to go. I'd be happy to give you a reference once you find another job. I
wish you all the best in your future endeavors."  He'd already returned his
attention back to the papers on his desk, ending the meeting even before
he'd finished speaking his final words.
"But..." Her heart was pounding and a wave of dizziness threatened to
overcome her. She grabbed for the firm, reassuring edge of the HR
Manager's desk, afraid she might fall without its support.
Mr. Robins looked up again, not bothering to hide his impatience this
time. "Your final payment will be in your bank account tomorrow. The
company has graciously agreed to pay you out for the remaining three days
left in this week. I'm sorry Arial, but I do have other people to see this
afternoon."
Arial looked out through his office window to where Maggie and
Lucy were nervously awaiting their turn on the uncomfortable, straight-
backed chairs arranged against the wall. Two terrified victims waiting for
the fall of the executioner’s guillotine. She'd waited there earlier but she had
never expected such a blunt and final end to her employment here. She’d
thought her future was secure with the company she'd worked for so
diligently over the past six months. "Will they get the same letter?"
He had closed his face down into a professional mask, impersonal and
impassive. "I am unable to discuss the outcome of any of the other
employee meetings with you. As you are aware, this company takes the
privacy of our personnel very seriously. Now, is there anything else?"
"No, there's nothing else." She pushed herself away from his desk and
walked on unsteady, wobbly legs to the door with her own words still
ringing in her ears. There really was nothing else. She had counted on this
job as her only source of income and this was news that she had not seen
coming. To make matters worse, her building manager had told her just this
morning that he was not renewing her lease at the end of the week. He'd
mumbled something about wanting to move his sick mother into her
apartment and then he'd hurried away before she could protest.
Unfortunately, when she sat down to read the fine print on the contract
she’d signed before she moved in a year ago, she’d discovered that he was
within his rights to refusal renewal. Once again, she hadn’t seen it coming.
Good one, Arial. Blindly skipping through life without paying enough
attention to the important things.
Arial walked stiffly past Maggie and Lucy without looking at them,
unable to give the girls an encouraging smile or any other indication that
there wasn’t bad news waiting for them inside Mr. Robins' office. She
hesitated as she left the HR Department, unwilling to return to her desk and
the concerned, knowing gazes of her colleagues. They would know as soon
as they saw her face that she'd received The Letter, the notice of termination
that had been on everyone's lips since the office of Carmond & Proctor,
Advertising Agency opened this morning.
She suddenly veered off her course, turning left to push open the
swinging door of the ladies’ bathroom. She hurried over to the sinks and sat
the letter, still unopened and unread, on the side of the basin. She switched
on the cold faucet and bent to splash water on her face, gasping as the chilly
water touched her skin. She gasped again as the letter slid off the side of the
basin and directly under the gush of the tap.
“Godammit!” She snatched up the sodden envelope and flicked it
around in an attempt to rid it of some of the water but the paper was
drenched through. Still cursing, she flung the entire envelope into the
trashcan and slammed down the lid. She didn’t want to read it anyway. It
wasn’t as if she didn’t know the contents.
She leaned her hands on the front of the basin and stared into her own
eyes in the mirror. She was breathing heavily now and two high spots of
pink on her cheeks added the only dash of color to her otherwise pale skin.
Her raven dark hair hung in long waves around her shoulders and a lock of
hair fell across her face. She pooched out her bottom lip and blew upwards
to shift it back to where it belonged. Just one hour ago, she’d been sitting
happily at her desk getting ready to type up a weekly report for Goldrush
Orange, one of the company’s regular clients, and now she was unemployed
and shortly to be without a home. It just wasn’t fair.
She turned as she heard the crash of a slamming door and the sound
of a young woman’s distressed wail. Pounding feet ran down the corridor
outside the bathroom, another door slammed, and then there was silence.
Arial turned around to grimace at her reflection. That was probably Lucy.
Maggie would be next, and did she really want to be here when the fallout
from that little meeting hit the airwaves? Maggie was highly strung at the
best of times and she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to support anyone
else through a meltdown.
Holding her head up high, she left the bathroom and marched
determinedly to the exit doors without turning back to the open plan office
where she’d spent the past six months. Mr. Robins hadn't said anything
about working out the remainder of the day so why shouldn't she leave
straight away? She shoved open the glass doors and stepped out onto the
street, gulping in mouthfuls of fresh air and fighting back her tears. She
wouldn't cry, not here, not in public view. She was too proud for that.
Arial Jackson had faced far worse than this and she had come through
it still smiling. She would do it again and no one would see her without a
stoic smile on her face. Not if she could help it.
 
 Chapter Two
Carson
Carson DuMonde instinctively ducked, well before his father's
blindly searching hand grabbed the thick, heavy hardcover book from
beside his laptop and hefted it across the room. Terrence DuMonde was
known for his sudden fits of rage and everything that wasn't glued together
or tied down became a ready weapon in his infuriated hands. Carson knew
by now that Terence never meant for his missiles to make contact with his
targets but there was always a first time. A slip of the hand or a slight error
in judgement would be all that was needed. The book sailed through the air,
whistling past Carson's ears and smashing into the bookcase behind him. He
sat upright again and cast a wary smile in his father's direction. "I was about
to apologize."
"I'm tired of your apologies, your promises to change, and your
endless weakness for unworthy women! You're the sole heir to the
DuMonde estate! The future of the DuMondes rides upon your worthless
shoulders!" Terence pulled his thick, hairy brows down into a ferocious
scowl. "I've made up my mind and there is no going back. Things have to
change or there will be dire consequences to pay."
Carson hid his grimace. His father's 'consequences' were always
tiresome. What would it be this time? A ban on driving his fleet of luxury
cars for a week? The removal of cash privileges for the weekend? Would he
be forbidden to enter the family Casino, his favorite playground and
hunting ground, for a month or two? Whatever it was, he'd find some way
around it. Terence's fury would soon burn out, Carson would mumble yet
another apology, and they could all get on with their lives again. Anyway,
this latest indiscretion wasn't all that bad - it was just unfortunate that his
father had stumbled upon that little ménage-a-trois in the breakfast room.
He didn't usually come downstairs before 8 am each day but then again,
Cassandra and Geneva were making quite a bit of noise. Carson's eyes
gleamed at the pleasant memory. They were both such naughty girls.
"By the 30th of the month," Terence was saying now, "Or you will be
disinherited. Your cousin Matthew is a fine upstanding member of society
and he would make a fitting heir to the DuMonde fortune. He is also highly
unlikely to embarrass the family name or soil our reputation in any way."
 "Wait, what?" He'd obviously missed a vital part of this conversation
and he didn't like the part that he had heard. "What do you mean when you
say that Matthew would make a fitting heir to the DuMonde fortune? The
man is as weak as a cup of milky tea. And what has the 30th of the month
got to do with anything?" His father must have thrown out Matthew’s name
just to irritate him. Terence knew that Carson and his cousin did not get
along, had never got along. Matthew said it was because Carson was an
arrogant, spoiled bastard but Carson blamed it on an incident in the sandpit
when they were both three. Carson prided himself on his ability to hold
grudges. Despite what his father might say, he’d never been a quitter.
Terence pulled irritably at his short beard, a vanity that he refused to
shave off despite his wife Martha's constant pleading. She was fond of
pointing out the grey hairs scattered throughout, telling him that the beard
aged him in a way that a clean-shaven jaw never would, but Terence and his
beard were inseparable. "That's another of your faults, your inability to
concentrate for even the shortest amount of time. I will repeat this only
once.”
“That’s unfair. I’ve proven my ability to concentrate on many
occasions in the past.”
Terence licked the tip of his finger and used it to smooth down the
hairs on one eyebrow. The ruddy color of rage had left his face now and
Carson could see he was gradually coming back down from the heights of
his anger. “I’m not talking about your ability to concentrate on the number
of women you can bed in one night.”
Ha. He knew a reference to that little frolic would come up at some
stage. “I had a little too much to drink.”
“By the looks of things, so did your female companions.” Terence
cleared his throat and allowed his lowered brows to do the talking for the
next few seconds.
“We were celebrating. Geneva won some money at the Casino, which
brings me neatly to the example I was just about to give you. I’ve proven
my ability to concentrate many times over through the work I’ve put in to
make the Casino the outstanding success that it is.”
“How? By handing yourself out as a party favor?”
“Come on, you know that my PR services have been an invaluable
component in branding the business. You have to give credit for that.”
 “I would love to give you credit, but credit must be given where
credit is due. From my observations, your so-called PR services have
amounted to nothing more than selecting the prettiest girls and escorting
them up to the suite for a few private games. I’m not sure how you can
believe your shenanigans have made any impact on the company’s brand,
other than a detrimental one.”
Carson didn’t have an answer to that right now but he was shocked to
hear that his father had such a poor view of everything that he’d done.
Terence sighed and tugged at his beard again. “As much as it pains
me to say, I am going to have to offer you an ultimatum.”
Carlton waited. He’d never been fond of ultimatums. As he’d
discovered in the past, other people’s ultimatums were not usually for his
benefit.
“You must find a bride and marry her by the 30th of the month or you
will be disinherited. I have made up my mind and you won't change it."
Carson's mouth hung open. "The 30th of this month? But that's
outrageous! None of the women I'm involved with are interested in
marriage!"
"And that's a very good thing because none of the women you're
involved with would meet my criteria anyway."
Carson made a rude noise. “And what kind of ‘criteria’ are you
talking about?”
Terence paused for effect before delivering his punch line, a statement
that sent Carson reeling back in astonishment. "First and foremost, the next
Mrs. DuMonde must be a virgin."
 
 Chapter Three
Arial
Arial had exactly fifty dollars and twenty-five cents in her bank
account until the company deposited her last wages tomorrow. It was 3
o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon, she'd just walked out the front doors of
Carmonde & Proctor vowing never to return after her awful meeting with
Mr. Robins, and she had no idea what to do next. Her apartment no longer
felt like her own and she had no wish to go back there and start packing up
her stuff. That would just be more awfulness on top of awfulness.
She walked listlessly through the city streets without paying any
attention to where she was going. At least she'd thought to take her handbag
along to her meeting in the HR Department but she would never go back to
rescue the little plant in the red pot from her desk or her pen with a fluffy
pink pompom on top. Lucy could have that, or Maggie, if either of the girls
were still there after their individual meetings with Mr. Robins.
Unfortunately, she had the feeling that they had both received the same
letter as she had, although she still had no idea what it might have said and
she never would know. How could a week that had started out so well turn
so bad so quickly?
She wasn't sure what to deal with first - her lack of an income or her
lack of somewhere to live. It wasn't as if she could call on her parents and
move in with them. She'd lost both of them in a car accident two years ago
and the only thing she had to say about that was at least they'd exited this
world together. Lived in love and died in love. She had no brothers or
sisters to turn to, except for Steve and he was currently somewhere in
Africa without any access to WiFi and he probably would be for some time,
and her friends were caught up in mini life dramas of their own. Not that
she'd ever ask to move in with them, of course. She was used to being
independent and figuring things out on her own and she liked it that way.
What was it that her father used to affectionately call her? A tough nut. She
could hear his voice now. “You’re a tough nut, Arial. You don’t let anything
get to you. You’ll do well for yourself in life, sweetheart, and I couldn’t be
prouder of you.”
She stopped to press the pedestrian button at the intersection traffic
lights, still lost in her thoughts. There was no boyfriend to run to either and
it wasn't from lack of trying on the part of the many eager and lust-crazed
men who regularly crossed her path. She knew her glossy dark hair, shapely
figure, pixie face, and pouting smile attracted plenty of male attention but
Arial was an old-fashioned girl. She believed in the sanctity of marriage and
in keeping her virtue for the man whom she would one day marry. Sure,
virgins were an out of date commodity in these equal opportunity, modern
times but she remained firm in her decision. The first time she would ever
make love would be in the bed of her adored husband and only after a gold
ring was firmly wedged on her finger. She’d made up her mind on that point
long ago, back when she was little girl with her head full of dreams of
flaxen-haired princesses waiting for their dashing princes on white horses to
arrive. She’d once thought that Wyatt was that man, but he’d soon proven
himself to more of a scoundrel than a prince.
“Oh, pardon me.” A young man wearing a business suit and a pair of
dark-rimmed spectacles, too occupied with looking down at his phone to
notice where he was going stood on the back of her heel with the toe of his
heavy shoe. The momentum of his forward movement painfully pinched the
tender skin between his thick sole and the back of her kitten heel.
“Ow!” Arial gritted her teeth and pulled her foot out from beneath his.
She could feel a blister forming on the spot already.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you alright?”
He stepped up beside her and she saw the sudden gleam in his eye when he
caught sight of her face. She was used to seeing that gleam in the eyes of
strangers but it soon faded when the man it belonged to discovered she
wasn’t the type to put out for the slim price of a night out.
“I’m fine,” she lied. She crossed the street as the green man icon
blinked on. The young man hurried along behind her although he was
making sure not to stand on her foot again. “Can I buy you a coffee to make
up for my clumsiness?”
“No, thank you.” She stared grimly ahead, hoping he would leave her
alone. If he wasn’t matching her steps she would have stopped by now to
check her injury.
“A wine then,” he wheedled, not giving up. “You look like the type of
woman who’d enjoy a glass of wine.”
That was the final straw. After the day she’d had, she did not need
some dimwit trying to pick her up after he’d trodden on her foot. She
whirled around, her eyes flashing. “No means no. And how do you know
what ‘type’ of woman I am? Why do people have to typecast one another?
Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”
“What?”
She spun away again and stomped off down the street, ignoring his
shout of anger behind her. “Hey, leave my mother out of this!”
She didn’t stop walking for several blocks, only slowing down after
turning around to make sure he wasn’t following her. She rubbed her red
heel and eased the back of her shoe down a little so that it no longer rubbed
against the painful part. She didn't recognize this part of town and she
couldn't remember ever seeing this street. However, the building in front of
her caught her attention with its attractive stone architecture, flashing but
not flashy signage, and its overall aura of fun and good times. What was
this place? She stopped outside and tipped her head back to read the
swirling gold words above the door.
Dumonde Casino, A Place Where Your Fortune Can Change For The
Better In An Instant.
She was ready for her fortune to change for the better. It certainly
couldn’t get any worse and if it could change for the better she had nothing
to quibble about. She didn't hesitate, not even for a minute. She shoved the
strap of her handbag further up her arm, tossed back her hair with grim
determination, and stepped inside. Fake it until you make it, Arial.
 
 Chapter Four
Carson
Carson, for probably for the first time since he could remember, now
knew how it felt to have the uncomfortable burn of unquenchable anger
boiling in his belly. Certainly, for the first time in his entire life he could
understand why his father grabbed hold of anything he could get his hands
on and threw it far away himself in an attempt to relieve his painful and all-
encompassing fury. In fact, if he wasn’t sitting on this chair now it would
have probably gone the same way as the book Terence had thrown earlier.
He'd tried pleading with his father, he'd tried raging at his father and
he’d almost resorted to sobbing at his father's feet but nothing had worked.
Terence had refused to budge from his resolution: Carson must find a
virginal bride and marry her before the new month began or he would
forfeit his rights to the family wealth forever.
Terence was now flipping through the Rolodex on his desk,
apparently bored with the conversation now, while Carson seethed in
impotent rage in his chair. Terence finally looked up, blinking in surprise as
if he hadn’t expected to see Carson still here. “And?”
“And what?”
“And hadn’t you better get out of here to start your search for my
daughter-in-law? Time is ticking.” He tapped the gold clock on the side of
his desk, the one the Mayor had presented to him for his services to the
community. The Mayor clearly had no idea that a ticking time bomb instead
of a ticking clock would have made a better gift for Terence DuMonde.
Naturally, Carson phoned his mother Martha as soon as he left his
father's study. Martha had always nurtured the fondest of soft spots for her
only son and of course she would see Terence's alarming statement for what
it was - the mutterings of a madman. Marrying any woman, let alone a
virgin, did not hold a place in Carson’s immediate life plan. He liked being
a playboy and he was good at it. Dammit, he was a playboy superstar! He
was a gold-medal-champion playboy! Wasn’t that what all the tabloids
called him? Why should he give that title up because of his father's
disgruntled and ill-thought-out pledge to disinherit him and replace him
with the useless Matthew? A virgin? Bah! How hard would it be to find one
of those? Terence clearly hadn’t thought this through, unless he was relying
on Carson turning up at the altar at the end of the month with a sixteen-
year-old on his arm – and wasn’t that illegal?
Unfortunately, Martha was sympathetic to her son’s plight but she
remained firmly on the side of her husband. As she patiently attempted to
explain to Carson from the other end of the phone line, in between making
soothing murmuring sounds and asking him to hold off on his ranting and
cursing while she was trying to speak, it probably was time for him to grow
up and find a wife. Carson was no longer a free-spirited teenager, the
DuMonde estate needed another generation of sons to carry on the family
name, and a virginal young woman who could be molded and shaped into
the role of lady of the house would be the perfect addition to the family.
"Do you know how old-fashioned that sounds? We're well into the
21st-century now, in case you hadn't noticed."
"We're an old-fashioned family," Martha replied serenely, unruffled
by his outburst. "You've had a free rein for a long time and anyway, you
should look upon the idea of a wife as an increase to your status in society
rather than being anything detrimental. The right woman will buoy you up,
expand your outlook on life, and support you through thick and thin just as
I've done for your father."
"But you're different." He pulled his Porsche into the curb and
switched off the engine, attempting to regain control of himself. He had not
expected his day to end like this when he woke up this morning, but then
again he had the luscious Gabriella in his bed this morning and his mind
was on other things. "Dad was lucky to find you. You're one in a million."
"Don't be ridiculous." She was using her scolding tone now, the one
she'd used when he was a small boy and she caught him stealing candy
from the pantry in their mansion in the hills. He cut himself off from the
sound of her voice through force of habit and allowed his gaze to wander,
taking in his surroundings for the first time in several blocks. He'd driven to
the DuMonde Casino in the city without thinking about where he was
steering the vehicle, allowing his steed to lead the way. It seemed the
building's magnetic pull was stronger than he realized.
"Carson!" Astute Martha had noticed that she no longer held her son’s
attention. "Are you listening to me? Your father means what he says.”
“He said that if I don’t find a wife to marry by the end of the month
he will disinherit me and put Matthew in my place.” He felt his lip curl as
he said his cousin’s name. He realized with a start that the threat of
Matthew stepping into his shoes irked him more than the problem of
finding a suitable girl to marry.
“And Matthew would do very well in the role. He’s sensible, patient,
and committed to good values.”
“Which is why he should have become a priest. Can you imagine him
managing the Casino?”
“Yes.”
He frowned down at the phone on the console. The profile picture of
his mother, the one taken at last month’s Gala Ball, stared sweetly back at
him. She wore her red hair short and she liked to boast that the fiery red had
not faded since she was a teenager. Folklore would have it that her temper
should match her hair color, but it was her husband who was the family
firecracker. Martha was genteel, calm, and prone to giving out good advice
to those who needed it, as well as those who didn’t.
“But why would he choose Matthew?”
“Who else is there?” Martha paused and her voice quietened and
softened. “I did try to bring a second son into the family, Carson. You know
that.”
“I know.” Carson was six when Martha fell pregnant again after years
of trying. He wasn’t too young to remember the agony on her face when she
slipped and tumbled from the third step on the stairs and subsequently lost
the baby. A boy, they said. The second heir to the DuMonde fortune and a
baby who was sadly never to be. The accident and miscarriage meant the
end to Martha’s childbearing days and Carson knew it was one of the
biggest regrets of her life.
The pitch of Martha’s voice had hardened again. “You can either face
facts or you can chose to ignore them, but you will lose your rights to the
estate unless you can find an appropriate bride by the end of the month."
The undercut of steel in her tone was undeniable now.
"Sorry, Mom. Gotta go." He switched off the phone, cutting her
words short, and unbuckled his seat belt. A few hours at the Casino, sitting
back and drinking whiskey as he flirted with the beautiful women who
frequented the venue was just what he needed to restore his equilibrium
while he decided what to do next.
 Chapter Five
Arial
She shouldn't have come in here. This was not her sort of place and
she’d known it from the second the white-gloved doorman held the glass
doors open for her to walk through into the plush lobby with its grand
marble statues, lush potted ferns, and sparkling fountain. There was even an
expensive boutique with its window stuffed full of elegant cocktail dresses
and brand name handbags.
Arial sipped at her cocktail now, a drink she'd been handed for free
just for walking in the door. Or at least that's how it seemed even though
she still wasn’t sure if she should believe what the man had told her. She'd
scarcely stepped one foot into the darkened hush of the DuMonde Casino
on the other side of the lobby when a charming drinks waiter swept up to
greet her. He was darkly handsome and well groomed, dressed in a black
and white uniform with a smart red bowtie snug against his neck. He'd
escorted her to the bar, asking politely if this was her first time inside the
salubrious surrounds of a DuMonde Casino and when she mumbled yes, his
grin had widened. He'd told her that beautiful women always received their
first drink on the house at any property owned by the family DuMonde.
Blushing and embarrassed, especially when the waiter's comment
drew the interested attention and several carefully directed comments from
the two men in business suits sitting further along the bar, she'd hastily told
him to choose the drink for her and she'd be happy to take whatever was
offered. The waiter had quirked his eyebrow then, just enough to be
suggestive rather than rude and murmured that he knew exactly the right
drink for a woman like her.
So, here she was. Inside the palatial surrounds of the DuMonde
Casino, wandering past the blackjack tables and the enticingly flashing
lights of the poker machines with a ludicrous drink dubiously named Suck,
Bang, and Blow clasped tightly in her hand while she tried not to draw too
much attention to herself.  She suddenly wished she was sitting back at her
desk at Carmody & Proctor, dutifully getting on with her paperwork in an
office filled with hard-working colleagues when she remembered she no
longer had a job there. She was unemployed, nearly homeless, and she had
no firm idea of her future. The thought was frightening and she quickly
lifted her glass to her lips, anxious to prevent her fear from overtaking her.
She could do this! She'd managed to skirt past looming hopelessness before
and she would manage to do it again.
People were watching her. Or rather, men were watching her. She
could feel their predatory eyes upon her as she walked past the gambling
tables and swerved around the machines. She needed to find somewhere to
sit, somewhere quiet and away from the punters where she wouldn't be
noticed, so she could take off the shoe that was rubbing irritatingly against
her sore heel. She would put a few coins in a poker machine and cross her
fingers while she spun the wheel, and then she would finish her drink and
go. If she hopped off her bus one stop early, she could call into the Safeway
grocery store near her house and ask the counter clerk for some spare
cardboard boxes. The evening loomed dully ahead of her as she pictured
herself packing her belongings up and getting ready to move to some place
new. Some place that she hadn't yet found - and more than likely, it
wouldn’t be new. She could not afford to rent something new in her current
dire circumstances and if things didn’t improve she might never be able to
afford new again.
She chose a poker machine halfway down a row, near the back of the
Casino and far away from the bustle. She hitched herself up onto the high
stool, set her handbag and drink down on the shelf beside the machine,
kicked off her shoes, and stared blankly at the flashing screen in front of
her. She had no idea of where to start, of what button or lever to push, or
what to do next.
An elderly woman with curly lavender hair and wearing her
eyeglasses on a chain around her neck walked up behind her and peered
myopically at the screen. “Bert won on this machine last week. He got three
sevens and all the lights went off at once.”
“Oh. How lovely. Perhaps I’ll share in some of his luck.”
“Well, are you gonna put some money in or not?”
“Uh…” She didn’t have any coins on her. Idiot. She couldn’t pretend
she knew what she was doing if she didn’t have any coins.
“There’s an ATM and a dollar change machine on the wall behind ya.
Good luck.” The woman dropped a gnarled hand on Arial’s shoulder and
gave it a quick squeeze before ambling off.
Arial left her shoes where they lay and walked over to the ATM. The
carpet was thick and spongy beneath her bare feet and it felt nice to walk
on. She drew out twenty dollars of her last fifty, which was against her
better judgement but the drink had loosened her last traces of willpower.
She picked up a plastic cup and sat it under the funnel of the dollar change
machine after feeding the twenty-dollar bill into the slot. A disturbingly
short rain of coins fell into the cup and she picked it up. Twenty dollars
didn’t amount to much at a Casino.
She went back to the stool and sat down again. She sat the cup in the
tray beneath the machine and took another bracing sip of her cocktail. So
far, so good. She now had coins, she could easily see where she was
supposed to put them and no bothersome, uninvited man had come across to
join her.
“Drop the coin into the slot and choose a bet. You can’t go wrong
from there. I usually start small and make my way up.” Arial’s elderly
friend was back and she was now gripping a tiny white cup of the free
coffee that Arial had seen on offer on a table by the bar.
“Oh, thanks.”
The woman continued on her way and Arial picked a coin out of the
plastic cup. She dropped it into the slot and it promptly fell out into the tray
below with a metallic clunk. Was this a bad sign? Frowning, she picked it
up out of the tray to try again.
"Good afternoon. Welcome to DuMonde Casino. You're looking a
little nervous and unsure there. Can I help? I promise it won't hurt a bit. The
trick with these machines is that you have to show them who’s the boss."
Her heart sunk. Here was that bothersome, uninvited man she’d just
been thanking her lucky stars that she hadn’t met. She turned on the velvet-
covered stool and looked up into the smiling face of the most devilishly
handsome man she'd ever seen in her life. Even worse, he looked far too
sure of himself and of his own attractiveness as he pulled up a stool beside
her.
 
 Chapter Six
Carson
The angels were on his side today after all. He'd just stumbled across
an extraordinarily beautiful and solitary woman and even better, she was
partway through one of Darius the barman's most potent cocktails. He'd
spend some time chatting and lightly flirting before inviting her up to his
private suite in the penthouse at the top of the building. That's when the
games would really begin. What better way to while away the rest of the
afternoon after his father's disturbing thunderbolt of a news flash?
"The trick with these machines is that you have to show them who’s
the boss." He tried out his best Carson DuMonde smile, the one that seldom
let him down, but she was looking around nervously rather than
appreciating it for what it was worth. Hadn’t she recognized him? This was
unusual but it only added to the enjoyment of the game. He’d drop a few
hints, tell a few tales, and then the light of recognition would flare in her
eyes. He loved seeing that light. It was almost always followed by an eager
acceptance of his invitation to take a bottle of champagne and retire
upstairs, which was when private fun became the name of the afternoon and
evening.
"I’ve never been in here before but today hasn't been the best of
days." Her voice was as sweet as her face. Those eyes were a dream, deep
blue and huge with lush, dark lashes. He'd always been a sucker for a pair
of big blue eyes. Her hair was amazing too, a soft and glossy dark brown
that looked too good to be natural but too real to be fake. He could already
imagine the feel of it in his hands.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said smoothly, intent on stopping her
before she started blathering on about a broken heel on her shoe or her fight
with her hairdresser. He knew what these women were like, shallow and
vain creatures with an eye on the prize and a hand searching for his wallet
as soon as they had the chance. Not that he minded, just as long as he got
his fair share of the deal. Woah, she was a beauty. He was picturing what
her body looked like beneath those surprisingly drab and dull clothes and he
liked what he saw. He looked around, searching for a more brightly clothed
group of squawking, cackling friends. Those friends probably dragged her
in here before she had time to go home and change after finishing work for
the day. "Where are your friends?"
"My friends?" She puckered her brow at him and batted her
eyelashes. Oh, she was good. She played the innocent as if she was born to
the role.
He curved his mouth into a teasing smile, more than willing to play
his own role. "You're not here alone, are you? Why would such a lovely
young lady be at a DuMonde Casino on her own?"
She quickly inhaled and his eyes were immediately drawn to the
enticing heave of her breasts beneath that unflattering grey top. She picked
up her drink and took a hearty sip before replying. "I lost my job," she said
bleakly and he was almost sure he saw the swell of tears in those baby
blues, which was puzzling. Beautiful women didn’t usually come to a
DuMonde Casino to cry. Sure they might cry afterward, when he gently told
them they had to go after a few hot and mutually pleasurable hours in the
suite, but they didn’t cry before he’d had a chance to invite them up there.
"After Mr. Robins told me I was fired, I left the office and I started
walking until I ended up here."
"Alone?" He’d only listened to a small part of what she’d said. She
didn't look like the kind of woman who ever needed to be anywhere on her
own. Perhaps she’d broken up with her boyfriend? Yeah, that could explain
it. She’d met her boyfriend for lunch, he’d dumped her, and she’d high-
tailed it in here as soon as she finished work for a pick-me-up cocktail to
drown her sorrows. He could handle that. He’d comforted numerous freshly
dumped women in the past and they were always satisfyingly grateful for
his attention.
"Just me." She took him by surprise when she held out her hand for
him to shake, just as a business executive would do. "I'm Arial Jackson."
"Charmed." Disconcerted by the gesture, he returned her handshake
as he tried to work her out. He decided it might make better sense to
introduce himself by his first name only. He'd learned long ago that it was
often safer that way, at least until he knew how screwy his target was. The
jury was still out on this one despite her stunning good looks. "Carson. It's
lovely to meet you."
“Carson. That’s a nice name.” She kicked her foot against the leg of
the stool and he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Oh great, he’d
picked a homeless woman. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to
what she was saying earlier.
“Where are your shoes?”
She giggled then, a musical, uplifting sound that went right to his
groin. “A guy stood on my foot while I was waiting at the traffic lights. My
heel is still sore so I took them off.”
“Good idea. It’s always a good idea to remove items of clothing that
get in the way.” This was her opening, her chance to say something
provocative or flirtatious in return.
“A shoe isn’t an item of clothing.” She looked doubtful. “Is it?”
“Well, it’s an item of footwear.” Why the hell were they talking about
her shoes?
“Mmmm.” She picked up her drink and slurped the last of it through
the straw, as if it were a milkshake. Didn’t she have any idea of how
alcoholic that mix was? Not that he minded, of course. He could imagine
her now, loose limbed and giggly as she draped herself seductively across
the king-sized bed in the suite.
“Were you planning to make a night of it?” He could see Darius from
here and as soon as the man looked up, he would signal to him to bring
some champagne. Another one of those cocktails and she’d be no use to
anyone and that definitely wasn’t part of his plan.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea but I don’t have to be anywhere else
just yet.” Something flickered across her gaze, a glimmer of concern or
perhaps a question, and then it was gone again. She turned back to the
machine and wriggled herself into a more comfortable position on her stool
before lifting her face innocently to his. She had her guileless gestures
down pat and oh, honey they were having the desired effect. "So Carson,
are you ready to show me how to play?"
 
 Chapter Seven
Arial
Arial hadn't heard a single word that Carson had just said, although
she could recall a wisp of a faintly ridiculous conversation about shoes. He
was an extraordinarily magnetic man, almost too good-looking to believe,
and oh! those alluring brown eyes. They were the sort of eyes that could
draw a woman in and take her hostage. What was wrong with her? She
hardly ever allowed herself to get this flustered over a man and after Wyatt
and his horrible betrayal, she had sworn she never would again.
"Can I take that as a yes?"
The seductiveness of his smile matched the charm in his eyes and
Arial felt herself growing hot in places that should be minding their own
business. She squirmed on the stool and picked the straw out of her glass to
bend it into a concertina shape. "Uh, I'm sorry. I missed what you said."
"I asked if I could get you another drink." He nodded at the remnants
of the potent cocktail and she noticed that the paper umbrella was now
askew, much like her thoughts.
"Uh, no. Thanks, but I don't usually drink during the day." She
covered the top of the glass with her hand to reinforce her statement. "I was
about to put a few coins in the machine and leave."
"Don't leave just yet,” he said quickly. “I have a feeling that you
might be my lucky charm and my feelings seldom lie. Accompany me to
the gaming tables and let's see if my hunch is right." He winked at her,
sending another hot flare racing through her belly. "And then let me buy
you another drink for your trouble. It’s the least I can do and no one is
keeping count in here. Anyway, it’s hard to tell if it’s day or night when
you’re inside the DuMonde Casino." He purred the last words as if they
were something special.
It seemed she didn't have much choice. Her body was willing to
follow him regardless of whatever her brain was shouting at her. Not that
she was in any condition to listen to logic right now. Trembling under the
force of Carson's dangerously intense stare, she stooped to pull on her
shoes. She knew his eyes were on her butt but she pretended she didn’t
notice. She picked up her handbag in one hand and the remains of her
cocktail in the other and followed him across to the blackjack table. What
are you doing, Arial! This was completely out of character for her and she
could only put her foolishness down to the shock of losing her apartment
and her job in such a short space of time.
The man in uniform behind the blackjack table gave Carson a barely
perceptible nod as they approached but Arial was too flustered to pay much
attention. She fought to keep her expression blank as she battled with her
body to resist his blatant sexual magnetism and battled with her mind to
take back control. She knew what she should do - she should sit her drink
down and march out the door right this minute. She needed to do something
before she stepped another foot further into the dilemma that she could
already feel lurking, wolf-like, up ahead.
"Take a seat." Carson politely held another of the burgundy velvet-
covered stools out for her, leaning in close as she lowered herself down into
it. "A lucky lady in the luckiest seat in the house," he whispered, his breath
hot and ticklish against her neck. "It seems I can't lose."
"Mmmm."
The drinks waiter appeared out of nowhere and whisked her nearly
empty glass away, neatly replacing it with another full glass decorated with
one of the ubiquitous umbrellas and two fat, red cherries on a toothpick.
“Thanks Darius, but we wanted champagne.”
“Oh no, I’ll have a few tiny sips of this seeing as he went to the
trouble to make it.” The drinks waiter was sweet and she didn’t like to think
that he’d wasted his time.
Moving with an innate gracefulness, Carson slid his body into the gap
between Arial’s stool and the table. He shifted position and his thigh
brushed against her knee. He kept it there and remained pressed against her
for just a moment too long. Unable to form a coherent word, Arial picked
up her cocktail and slurped far too much of the heavily alcoholic liquid
down her throat. Get up now Arial, her sensible self roared inside her head,
get up now and get your ass out that door and don't ever look back!
Carson still hadn’t sat down. Instead, he remained standing
courteously at Arial's elbow. The uniformed croupier pushed a pile of
tokens toward him and again, Carson bent his head to whisper hotly in
Arial's ear. "Keep your fingers crossed and your eye on the prize. I swear
I'm doing exactly that and I like what I’m seeing."
Arial couldn't miss the insinuation in his voice. A sudden blush that
began somewhere around her breasts raced up her neck and flooded her
face with color. She ducked her head and watched under her lashes as the
croupier cut the deck of cards, acutely aware of Carson's nearness to her
overheated body. My oh my, this man was trouble with a capital T but
strangely enough, the thought of walking into a parcel load of trouble didn’t
bother her half as much as it usually did.
Carson had somehow signaled to Darius again without lifting a finger.
The suited waiter silently appeared at his side with a cut glass tumbler of
scotch whisky and a gilt-edged coaster on a tray. He sat the coast and the
glass down on the wooden edge of the blackjack table, threw Arial a sly
look that made her blink in surprise, and silently departed.
“You have him well trained,” Arial said brightly. “He’s acting like
he’s your own personal drinks waiter.”
“Darius and I go back a long way.” Carson picked up the tumbler and
took a sip, although his eyes never left Arial’s face. “Lady’s choice. What’s
it to be?” He inclined his head at the cards.
What? Did he mean that she was supposed to tell the croupier what to
do next? She had no idea how to play this game. Blackjack was not
something that had ever crossed her path before. It was definitely one of
those days. “Uh… I think I’ll gracefully bow out. I’m more than happy to
watch.”
He chuckled somewhere deep in his chest and she saw that his eyes
had turned as black as midnight. “I just bet you are.”
 
 Chapter Eight
Carson
This girl was hot and the fact she seemed utterly unaware of it only
made her hotter, even if it was just a clever and well-practiced trick on her
behalf. Carson subtly shifted position again, inhaling deeply as he moved
close enough to catch her wonderful scent. He made sure to keep his
movements subtle so she didn't notice what he was doing. He didn't want
her to start thinking he was creeping on her, not unless she gave him some
indication that she was into that type of thing. She smelled like summer
roses, or spring rain falling on newly mowed grass. She smelled fresh and
untouched, although it was impossible for any woman as stunning as Arial
Jackson to be as innocent as she was acting right now. She probably had a
list of bedmates to rival his own, maybe even more. Quite probably some of
both sexes, too. She had teased him that she liked to watch. He felt himself
harden.
"Awww, you lost again. Better luck next time."
She turned that sweet face up to him again and he had to hold himself
back from bending his head and stealing a kiss. He’d spent several minutes
imagining her sexy body held tight in his arms, the way those lips would
move beneath his, and the way those long, tanned legs... "Pardon?" Damn,
he'd been so busy daydreaming that he'd missed what she’d said. Control
yourself, Carson. It's not like you to be so trigger happy.
"I said I probably should go. I have to start packing up my apartment.
Thank you for the drinks." She hiccupped softly as she slid off the stool and
his eyes widened as her frumpy skirt rode up to reveal a hint of the delights
that lay ahead of him. She was more than a little tipsy; he could see that
now. Maybe she had been telling the truth when she said she wasn't used to
drinking but in his experience, girls who said they weren't used to drinking
got the hang of it real quick in the right environment.
"Hey, no need to rush. I thought we could take the rest of the bottle
and retire to my suite." He leaned in to grab the neck of the champagne
bottle from the table as the croupier discreetly stepped back and pretended
to be busy with his token machine. "A little music and a lot of loving would
make a perfect end to the afternoon."
 Darius had done well in keeping the drinks topped up. He’d stopped
bringing cocktails after delivering that second one and had substituted the
sweet, alcoholic drink for a bottle of the Casino’s best champagne and two
crystal flutes. Arial had nibbled on her lip when Carson poured her a glass
but she hadn’t said no. He’d discovered years ago that girls very rarely said
no for long.
Carson laid an encouraging and supportive hand on Arial’s elbow,
giving the lightest of squeezes to coax her along. “Upsa-daisy. It’s just a
quick skip and a hop to the elevators and then into the suite. Everything is
easy street from there on in.”
Her lovely blue eyes instantly hardened to an icy grey. "I think you're
getting ahead of yourself," she said primly, the giggles gone and her voice
now utterly sober. "I'm not that type of girl and I hate it when men think
that I am."
Interesting. Well, he could play the game this way if that's what she
really wanted. "What makes you think I'm that type of guy?" he asked
smoothly. "There's nothing wrong with paying a visit to a friend's suite to
relax and have some fun. You can stay long enough to watch the stars come
up."
"I have to go," she said again. "I don't visit men's private suites,
especially when I hardly know the man issuing the invitation. It’s been fun
but this is where the afternoon ends."
What? She wasn't serious, was she? But she was already walking
away. Carson stared after her in astonishment, wondering if this was part of
her game. Any minute now, she would do a cute half-turn and throw him a
come-fuck-me smile. He set the champagne back down and crossed his
arms, waiting for that teasing moment that would mean the stakes had just
got higher.
She didn’t turn around.
He hurried after her, the champagne forgotten for now. "Wait up. It'll
be worth your while, I promise." He allowed his gaze to drop to her full lips
to make sure she understood what he meant. She didn’t expect him to beg,
did she? Carson DuMonde had never begged a woman to join him in bed.
Hell, most other women would be stampeding across the room to the
elevators by now.
She gave him a cross look and continued on her way to the doors.
He caught up with her and again grabbed her by the elbow. “Arial?”
 She turned a pair of serious eyes upon him. "I don't think you heard
me. I said I'm not that type of girl and I meant what I said. Goodbye." She
determinedly covered the short distance to the exit doors, her hips swaying
under that stupid skirt. The doorman hastily reached for the handle and gave
her a professional smile as he swept the door open, but not before his eyes
sent Carson a fleeting, questioning look.
Carson stood in the middle of the extravagant carpeted floor and
stared after her. Did she expect him to run after her? Was that what she was
doing? She had another think coming if she thought he was going to rush
out the door after her and chase her down the street. Didn't she know who
he was? No, she doesn’t know who you are, dummy. She spent the afternoon
with you without knowing who you are. That would be a first wouldn’t it,
buddy? A woman happy to enjoy your company without keeping one eye on
the main chance. How rare is that?
The door whispered shut behind her and the doorman set his face into
an expression of cool disinterest, although Carson knew the man was loving
every minute of this. He hesitated for a few seconds longer, telling himself
he should walk away and find a woman more than willing to say yes to his
invitation, but there was something about that girl...
"Hey, wait!" He was already running for the doors. The surprised
doorman jumped to attention and wrenched it open so he could pass
through unhindered. "Arial, wait up!"
 
 Chapter Nine
Arial
Uh-uh. Now that she was out in the fresh air, Arial realized just how
drunk she was. She should never have allowed Carson to order that bottle of
champagne and she should never have swallowed two glasses of the fizzy
liquid on top of those two high potency cocktails. It was just that he was so
sexy and attentive and she'd enjoyed someone paying her so much attention
when she was feeling so low. She stepped back and leaned against the
casino building for support. Her vision blurred and then cleared again.
Whoa, this was bad. She staggered and steadied herself before fumbling in
her bag for her phone. She would call an Uber and go home. After a hot
shower and a hot cup of coffee, she might be sober enough to start packing
up her apartment.
"Hey Arial!"
She looked up in surprise as Carson burst out through the Casino
doors. He'd followed her! Why? Didn't he know how to take no for an
answer? Oh my, he was handsome but the problem with handsome men was
that they thought they could get away with anything.
He spun around in a full circle and his face brightened when he
caught sight of her leaning against the building. He strode over and grinned
down at her, those dangerous green eyes of his glinting with a magic of
their own. "Why did you go and skip out on me like that? You left me
feeling like Prince Charming must have felt when Cinderella left the ball at
midnight."
She giggled. She did like a man who knew his fairy tales. “Shoes
again,” she slurred.
“Huh?”
“Cinderella lost her shoe. When you met me, my feet were bare and I
had lost my shoe. I mean, I hadn’t lost my shoe but it wasn’t on my foot.”
Was that how it had happened? Why were there now two of him? Why was
she still talking about her shoes? She screwed her eyes shut and opened
them again as his face swam in front of her.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Two firm hands wrapped around her
upper arms.
 Her head was spinning. She needed to sit down before she fell down.
With Carson’s support, she sunk down onto her haunches and stared
blearily at her phone. "I'm going home. I’m a little drunk. I'm calling an
Uber now."
"No." He stooped and placed his hand over her phone screen to
prevent her from using the app. "If you do insist on leaving now, please let
me take you home."
"Don't be an idiot." She wrenched her phone out from under his hand.
"I'm not getting in a car with you. You've been drinking and I won’t risk my
life like that." A drunk driver had caused her parents’ car accident and she
could not forgive anyone who climbed behind the wheel while inebriated.
"I'll leave my car here and call a driver. Arial, I don't want you to
leave just yet. I was enjoying your company." He made sad, puppy dog eyes
at her and she laughed at his expression. The truth was that she was
enjoying his company too, although his comment about calling a driver had
just managed to sink into her fuzzy brain. "What do you mean, you'll call a
driver?"
“We have several on call.”
“What? Who are ‘we’?” He wasn’t making any sense and she was
sure it wasn’t just because she was drunk.
He gave her a bashful look before taking a step back to point up at the
casino sign on the top of the building. "DuMonde Casino. I'm Carson
DuMonde and the Casino Chain belongs to my family. We have cars with
drivers all over town."
"Yeah right. And I really am Cinderella." Of course she didn't believe
him. In fact, she was annoyed that he thought he could get away with telling
her such a ridiculous lie in the hopes of charming her into his bed. She
could see what he wanted from her by the look in his eye but he could want
it all he liked. Although she was as drunk as she was, there was no way she
was doing that. Not until she was a Mrs. and happily in love with her Mr.
Again, she attempted to open the Uber app on her phone but
somehow she couldn’t get her finger to open the right icon and now her
Insta was open instead. “Can’t find my Uber,” she mumbled.
“You really are drunk.” He sounded amused, or maybe surprised.
“Mmmm.” Was it this one? She held the screen up close to her face
and squinted at the icon.
 “Damn. I know Darius makes a mean cocktail but this is the first time
I’ve seen a woman falling on her butt after consuming a couple of his
drinks.” He held out a hand to assist her to her feet and he left his hand on
her arm for several seconds to steady her. “The fresh air has probably made
it worse.”
“Here.” She triumphantly waved her phone after opening the app.
“Won’t be long and I’ll be in your way.”
“What?”
“On your way. I’ll be on your way. I mean, you’ll be on my way.”
Why was it so hard to get her words to line up?
"Arial, please let me take you home. I want to make sure that you get
there safely. I don’t want to put you in a car with a stranger when you’re
like this." He held his hands up in front of him as if he was surrendering. "I
won't touch you if that's what you're worried about."
She gazed at him, trying to see him properly through her fogginess.
He did seem genuine and she did have to watch her money now that she had
no job. If she let him drop her home, she could save on the cost of an Uber.
He'd probably go ahead and order an Uber himself while pretending it was
one of the DuMonde 'drivers'. She'd met men like him before, men who told
big fat lies and faked their identity to score points with women. All the
same, it would be nice to spend another ten minutes in his company...
"Ok," she said at last. "You can take me home but I'm not inviting you
in so don’t even ask."
 
 Chapter Ten
Carson
They were almost at her apartment, if the way the driver had slowed
his speed and was now checking his GPS was any indication that they were
getting close. She lived a long way from the city, further away than he
thought she might. She'd sat primly beside him ever since they left the
Casino, with her knees held tightly together and her handbag on her lap.
He’d tried talking to her but her mood had shifted. She’d settled into a
thoughtful, pensive frame of mind and it was hard to tell what she was
thinking. She had sobered up a little too, but she had gulped down almost
an entire bottle of water from the collection the driver kept in the holders on
the back of the seats.
"Are we nearly at your house?"
She granted him a quick glance. "Near enough and it's an apartment,
not a house."
He struggled to prevent his lips from twitching into a grin. "Of
course. Have you changed your mind about inviting me in?"
She pulled her brows down into a frown but she didn't turn to face
him and instead stared out the side window. "No. I rarely change my mind."
He had to make a move now otherwise everything would be lost. She
was more stubborn and determined than he'd first thought but he had always
enjoyed a challenge. He casually stretched out his arm and laid it across the
seat behind her. “I could do with a coffee before I head back to the Casino.”
She shifted, moving her body a few more inches away from his.
“Starbucks is open until late.”
She was a riot! Didn't she realize how funny and intriguing she was?
He allowed a coaxing, wheedling tone to enter his voice. "Not even with a
shovel load of encouragements on the side and, a cherry on top to make
everything pretty and sweet?"
"Not even with a shovel load." Obviously ignoring him now, she
leaned forward to speak to the driver between the gap in the seats. "Just pull
over anywhere here. It can sometimes be hard to find a park right outside
my building."
"Wait." He hovered his hand over her arm, not daring to touch her for
fear she might whack him with her handbag or kick him in the shins. "Is
that it?"
"What do you mean, is that it?" She fumbled for the door handle as
the driver pulled in against the curb. "We had fun and now I'm going home
to make a grilled cheese sandwich and watch a stupid romance movie until I
fall asleep."
He clamped his lips firmly shut on the chuckle that threatened to
bubble up and escape. "I've always enjoyed stupid romance movies. They're
my favorite."
She stared at him and he could see she was trying to work out if he
was being serious or not. “Hmmm. Actually, I might have to forgo the
movie. I have some chores to do.” She hadn’t opened the door yet and that
had to be a good sign.
“You could probably give yourself a night off. Everyone deserves a
night off every now and again.”
She finally looked at him and he made the most of the brief twinkle
he could see in her eyes. "I had fun today, Carson. Thanks for a great
afternoon but I'm not the sort of person to invite a guy in to spend the night.
It just isn't what I do."
He raised an eyebrow, hoping to drag her into his game with a light
dose of his careless, teasing charm. "Not ever?"
She shook her head firmly. "Not ever. I never have and I never will."
She leaned forward again to smile at the driver. "Thank you for bringing me
home. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
I never have and I never will?! Did that mean what he thought it
meant? Carson bounced out of the car and hurried around to her side before
she had a chance to step one foot on the pavement. "Arial, I think we should
talk."
"We've spent the entire afternoon talking but as I said, I have other
things that I need to get on with now." She searched in her handbag as she
walked toward a bland-looking concrete block apartment building, talking
to herself now. "I need a smaller handbag. I can never find my keys."
"You don't understand..." He took a deep breath, willing her to look at
him. How had a beautiful girl with her virtue still intact walked into his life
right when he needed her the most? "I have a dilemma."
She snorted but the noise sounded charming rather than rude coming
from her. "Don't we all? My dilemma is that I have no job and I have to be
out of my apartment by the end of the week. I’m supposed to be packing
tonight. Can your dilemma beat mine? Somehow I don’t think so."
This was even better, better than he could have hoped for. He
bulldozed onward, fully aware that he had nothing to lose. "I have to be
married by the end of the month.”
She finally turned her full attention on him. “Huh? No one has to be
married. Why are you telling me this?”
They’d reached the entrance door now, with its panes of smeary glass
and a rusted handle. Once she stepped through that door, his chance would
be lost.
“It’s a long story but I’ll keep it short and sweet for now. If I want to
stay in my father’s good books, I have to be married by the 30th.” He
hesitated for only an instant before delivering the punchline. “To a virgin."
Her face flooded with color. She looked past him to stare at the
vehicles passing by on the street instead of meeting his eyes. "Why would
you tell me something like that?" she asked quietly, her eyes fixed on a slow
moving bus.
"Because I think we can come to an arrangement. Arial, you have to
listen to me. Can I come up to your apartment to talk it through?" He tried
out his best pleading look, the one that had been successful on a multitude
of occasions in the past. "At the very least, I can help you pack. I could
even make you that cheese sandwich you’ve been craving."
 
 Chapter Eleven
Arial
They were standing outside her apartment building but there was no
way she was inviting him up, despite how cute he looked when he made
those wide pleading eyes at her. Her head had cleared and her vision was no
longer fuzzy around the edges. The water had helped, and the long drive
home. She generally caught two buses to work each day but now that she no
longer had a job, she wouldn’t have to travel that distance. However, she
now wondered if she was as sober as she thought she was. Had Carson just
told her that he needed to be married to a virgin by the end of the month?
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said I could help you pack and make you a grilled cheese
sandwich. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, but I do make a great
cheese sandwich. The trick is in the cheese. Most people don’t realize that
you need to use three different cheeses to make the best…”
“No! I’m not talking about a cheese sandwich! What did you say
before that? About staying in your father’s good books by marrying a
virgin. This isn’t the middle ages, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, I know but Dad can be old-fashioned sometimes. Can we talk
about this in your apartment?”
“No, we can’t talk about this in my apartment. Tell me now.” She
crossed her arms and scowled at him. She was beginning to get the uneasy
feeling that he’d been toying with her for the past few hours. First, there
was that silly lie about him being a member of the DuMonde family and
now he was trying to play her along with this far-fetched tale. She supposed
she should feel flattered that he was going to so much trouble in an attempt
to get an invite inside but she wasn’t born yesterday. He needed to come up
with stories that were more realistic than this if he expected this ploy to win
him some conquests. Not that she was planning to be one of his conquests,
of course.
He held her gaze and she got the distinct impression that he wasn’t
used to hearing the word no. “All right,” he said at last. “You win.” He
indicated the low fence at the side of the building, a messy arrangement of
concrete blocks covered in sprawling, illegible graffiti. “Do you want to sit
down for a few minutes so I can explain?”
 She gnawed at her lip. She really should be upstairs in her apartment
by now, starting on the big task that lay ahead of her.
He placed his hand on the small of her back and steered her over to
the low wall while she was still trying to make up her mind. “It’ll only take
a few minutes. I promise.”
She reluctantly sat down and wrapped her arms around the handbag
she held in front of her, hiding behind its inadequate width. He stood
solemnly in front of her, with his feet apart and his hands behind his back,
as if he was about to deliver a speech to a crowd of delegates. She folded
her lips over her giggle and waited patiently.
“My father is Terence DuMonde. I wasn’t lying when I said that I was
Carson DuMonde of the DuMonde family. I have no reason to lie to you
about that.”
“Can you prove it?”
He looked offended. “You can’t take my word on it?”
“Nope.”
He sighed and fished in his trouser pocket for his wallet. He pulled
out his driver’s license and handed it to her. She stared incredulously at his
unsmiling photograph. Either he was telling the truth or this was a very
good counterfeit copy. Everyone knew of Terence DuMonde and his
playboy son and now that she thought about it, Carson did look a lot like
the pictures of the man she’d seen on the internet and in magazines. Her
hand shook as she passed the license back. “Go on.”
“My father is concerned about the future of the family fortunes. He’s
not getting any younger and he wants to be sure that the business will be in
safe and sensible hands before he starts considering his retirement. In his
opinion, taking a bride will be proof of my maturity although I have no idea
where he gets that idea from.”
“So why has he only given you a month to get married?”
“Dad loves his ultimatums.”
“And why does the bride have to be virgin?” Her voice hiccupped
across the last word.
He scratched his head and pretended an interest in a scribble of
graffiti on the side of the building. “My father thinks my choices in women
to date have been dubious to say the least. He believes I should choose
someone entirely different from my previous choices, someone
unblemished by life who I can bring into the family and give the DuMonde
name. My mother supports his wishes. She told me that she thinks a young,
virginal bride will be a good fit and will be more malleable than a more
experienced woman.”
“More malleable?!” All of this was astounding but now he was
telling her that his own mother wanted him to marry a woman so she could
use her like a lump of silly putty! She abruptly stood up and went to brush
past him on her way to the door. “Good luck with meeting your father’s
ultimatum.”
“Wait, wait.” He stepped in front of her to prevent her from leaving.
“I probably chose the wrong word. Arial, you have to believe me. This
could work out well for both of us. You’ve already told me that you’ve lost
your job and you need to be out of your apartment.”
“Yeah but it’s not like I’m in a position where I have no other choice
but to get married to some dude who I’ve only just met.” Oh really, Arial?
That’s big talk for a girl who doesn’t have a whole lot else in the way of
choices.
“We could put some guidelines in place. A few rules and regulations
to make you feel safe and secure.”
She cocked her head to one side and studied him. “Why do I get the
strong feeling that this is the first time in your life that you’ve ever
suggested sticking to rules?”
His face broke into a grin. “See, I’m not such a stranger. You already
know something about me.”
She heaved a sigh. She should at least give him the chance to explain
the conditions of his bizarre offer. Besides, she was getting hungry. “You’d
better come in so we can talk it through properly.”
 
 Chapter Twelve
Carson
He’d thought about angels looking down on him earlier, sending a
pinch of divine luck his way, but that was supposed to be a joke. At that
stage, his only goal had been to get into Arial’s pants. Sure, that was still on
the agenda but maybe he could wait until after the 30th… the girl was a
virgin! This gorgeous, sexy young woman was exactly the type of person
Terence had ordered him to find and unbelievably, here he was waiting for
the elevator with her so they could travel up to her apartment.
“It’s probably not up to the standard that you’re used to, I’m afraid.”
Arial stepped out of the elevator and led the way across to a door that she
unlocked with the key she’d found earlier. “I live simply.”
“Hey, I’m not here to judge.” He followed her into a tiny apartment
that was scarcely large enough to swing a mouse by the tail, let alone a cat.
“This is nice.”
“Don’t lie. It is what it is and it’s all I can afford.” She corrected
herself. “Could afford.”
She tossed her handbag down on the lone sofa and walked over to
pull the curtains across on the gathering darkness while Carson went to look
at the bookcase, the only other item of furniture in the living room. There
were a few romance books and a couple of biographies, along with a book
about thinking positively and overcoming grief. However, pride of place on
the shelf went to a photo of a middle-aged couple grinning happily at the
camera. Alongside that photo was a smaller frame encompassing an image
of a young man wearing hiking gear and squinting into the sun. This frame
had a tiny, jeweled heart on the corner. He indicated the photographs with a
wave of his hand. “Your Mom and Dad?”
“Yes,” she said shortly, without offering any further information.
“And the guy?”
“Steve.”
Right, Steve. So who was Steve? An old boyfriend? Had he died
during a hiking expedition? That could explain the book on grief. He’d
always been good at putting two and two together. Stay one step ahead, that
was his motto and it had served him well up until now.
 She was in the shoe box-sized kitchen now, banging around in the
cupboards and running water in the sink. “I need a coffee. I only have
instant but you’re more than welcome to join me.”
“Sure. I love instant.”
That brought the ghost of a smile to her face. “If I’m going to be your
wife you’ll need to tone down your appalling habit of telling lies. I’ve lost
count of how many you’ve told me and I’ve only known you for four
hours.”
He was across the room in two strides. “So is that a yes?” he asked
eagerly.
“No, it was an ‘if’.” She finished making the coffee and pushed his
cup across the counter. “Give me your guidelines and then I’ll give you
mine.”
He felt a sudden burst of admiration for the girl. She was certainly no
pushover. Getting her into his bed might prove to be well worth the wait.
“We’ll sign a contract, of course. My father told me that I needed to be
married by the end of the month but he didn’t stipulate how long the
marriage must last. His only stipulation was that the girl must be innocent.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure that I like the idea of your father
equating a woman’s virginal status with innocence. I’m not as innocent as I
look.”
He very much doubted that but he chose to keep his mouth shut. He
smoothly moved on. “After the wedding, you’ll move into the family’s
mansion on the outskirts of the city. We also have a mansion in the hills but
currently there are only a few servants living there. We generally only use it
during the winter months. It’s close to the ski resorts and it’s a fun place to
chill out.”
Her eyes were huge behind the rim of her coffee cup as his words
sank in. She nodded but she didn’t say anything.
“Mom will expect you to get involved in some of her charities. We
often throw dinner parties and other events, and of course you’ll be by my
side on each of those occasions.” He glanced at her plain clothing and
quickly looked away again. “Your contract will include a monthly stipend
along with an initial down payment once you’ve signed the contract. You’ll
need the money to buy clothes worthy of a DuMonde and to pay for your
hair stylist, manicurist, masseuse, dietician, nutritionist, social media guru –
all that kind of stuff.”
 She didn’t seem impressed by his mention of money or the luxurious
services she would soon take for granted. “Marriage is important to me.”
“Yeah, it’s important to me too.” How many babes had he thrown this
line to over the course of his bachelor years?
She swallowed hard and set her coffee cup down on the counter. “And
what about… the bedroom?” her voice was scarcely more than a whisper.
“I think you’ll like it. The main bedroom has a view of the rose
garden and a private courtyard, and the bathroom has a Jacuzzi.”
“That’s not what I meant. What I meant was, will I be expected to…”
She dropped her eyes and stared down at her hands. “Will I be expected to
have sex with you?”
He tipped his head back and laughed, sure that she was playing coy
with him, but when he looked at her again her face was calm and serious.
He hastily cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. That’s what married couples
generally do, isn’t it? Have sex?”
She sighed softly and glanced over at the bookcase. He guessed she
was thinking about the hapless dead boyfriend, the one she’d never slept
with, the one who had died before he could snare her virginity. “Ok. Can I
give you my guidelines now?”
“Guideline away, sweetheart.”
She pinned those baby blues on him. “You need to be aware that I’m
not signing up to be your slave.”
“And I never offered that position to you. I already have a perfectly
good slave on my books.”
She didn’t crack a smile.
“I’m teasing you. I don’t expect you to be my slave. You’ll have
plenty of free time to spend however you like, as long as it’s in keeping
with how a DuMonde woman should act.”
“Which is how? How should a DuMonde woman act?”
“With class, patience, and refinement.”
She nodded. “I don’t want to be taken for a fool either.”
“No fools in this room. Are you in or are you not?” This girl was an
enigma. She was standing on the other side of this cracked and pitted
countertop looking like she’d just stepped off the pages of a beauty
magazine yet here she was laying down her expectations and asking
questions as if she was about to enter into a business contract. Although he
supposed it was a business transaction when it all came down to it. They
would marry, Terence would feel like he’d won, Matthew couldn’t step up
to steal his place in line for the family fortunes, he and Arial would have
some fun together, and then he’d quietly pay her off and send her out the
back door to get on with her life while he got on with his.
She solemnly out her slim hand for him to shake. “I’m in.”
 
 Chapter Thirteen
Arial
What had she just agreed to? She stood in the doorway of her
apartment and watched the man whom she would marry in a week on
Saturday walk into the elevator. He turned and lifted his hand in a wave as
the elevator doors closed. He looked pleased with himself, smug and self-
assured. She didn’t wave back.
Oh Arial, what have you done? She closed the door and locked it
before leaning back against it, feeling faint now. Carson had phoned his
lawyer before he’d left and asked the man to draw up an interim contract
immediately and email it to him. As soon as the contract arrived to his
phone, a mere twenty minutes later, Carson had asked her to read it and sign
it with an electronic signature. She’d hesitated then, wondering if she
should get someone with legal expertise to look it over first, but it had
seemed simple enough and it didn’t contain anything that they hadn’t
already discussed.
She had pledged to marry a man she’d only just met, and a playboy at
that.
She walked slowly across to the bookcase to pick up the photograph
of her parents. What would they say if they were here? Her mother would
be horrified. She’d always said she wanted her only daughter to marry a
man that she loved with all her heart. And what would her father say? She
could imagine the disappointed look on his face when he’d realized she’d
sold herself out for a few monthly payments. Arial kissed the tip of her
finger and touched it to each of her parents’ faces in turn before replacing
the frame in its spot.
She picked up the photo of her brother next. What would Steve say?
She couldn’t even reach him to tell him that she was about to be married.
By the time he finished his hiking expedition and made it back to
civilization, she would be Mrs. DuMonde. She could imagine his
incredulous face now. Arial, he would say as he shook his head in
bewilderment, how do manage to get yourself into these situations?
She put Steve’s photo back and went over to the kitchen to tidy up the
coffee cups and plates. True to his word, Carson had made them both a
grilled cheese sandwich while they were waiting for his lawyer to send the
contract through and she had to admit that it was one of the better cheese
sandwiches she’d ever tasted. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about
going hungry once she was his wife.
His wife.
She suddenly felt a pressing urgency to sit down. She sank into the
sofa cushions as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. In less than
two weeks, she would be walking down the aisle to say I Do to Carson
DuMonde and her life would never be the same again. Marriage was
forever, in her opinion, and by the end of the month she would be
embarking on a whole new journey into the great unknown. She flapped her
hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool down her heated skin. She felt
as if she was drunk all over again but the effects of her afternoon’s
indulgences must surely have dissipated by now.
Carson had quickly and efficiently taken control of the situation after
she gave him her word that she would marry him. As soon as she’d applied
her electronic signature to the bottom of the contract, he had arranged to
make a deposit in her bank account to ‘tide her over’. He told her to send
the invoices for everything else she needed, such as beauty treatments and
her wedding finery, directly to him and he’d take care of it. He’d also
booked a room at the Casino for her to stay in until their wedding day. She
could walk away from her apartment now and never look back. She didn’t
even have to pack. Carson had told her that he would send a team of
removal men around in the morning to pack up everything she wanted to
keep and box the rest up for charity. This was how the rich people lived;
summoning minions to do the hard work while they went ahead and got on
with the interesting parts of life.
This was insane. She got up to fetch her phone, determined to do a
little research on the man she was about to spend the rest of her life with. A
Google search revealed pages upon pages of articles and news snippets
about the DuMonde family. She lingered on a photograph of Terence
DuMonde. He was a handsome man with short, dark hair with a smattering
of grey at the temples. His carefully trimmed beard looked like a vanity
more than anything else. There was a hint of George Clooney around his
brow and eyes and his elegant dress suit revealed his excellent taste in
tailors. There was no doubt in her mind as to whom Carson had inherited
his striking good looks from.
 She found a photo of Martha DuMonde, a vivacious redhead with a
warm smile. Her sparkling gown fitted her trim figure to perfection and the
glitter of the diamantes matched the knowing gleam in her eye. These
people were to be her new family, her wealthy in-laws who would welcome
her into their world and show her the way of the DuMondes.
There were plenty of photos of Carson too. Carson in a tuxedo,
Carson skiing, Carson accepting a business award on behalf of the
DuMonde Casino Chain, Carson on a jet boat, and Carson standing in front
of the very same blackjack table where they’d spent the afternoon. There
were often women in the photos too, glamorous models with hard, glittering
eyes and manufactured cleavages, but she wasn’t too bothered about them.
Those days were behind Carson now. He appeared to be a man of his word
– he had promised to keep his hands to himself and make her a cheese
sandwich, and he’d done both of those things. As soon as he said his
wedding vows, his loyalty would be to his new wife and no one else.
Everything should have been perfect except for one important thing.
She was marrying a man whom she didn’t love.
 
 Chapter Fourteen
Carson
Carson couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face as he tapped his
knuckles against the outside of Terence’s study door. His father had
believed he was giving him a challenge that he would find difficult to meet
but within hours, Carson had fulfilled all of the conditions and he now had a
wedding date as proof of his success.
“Come in.”
Carson walked into the room as Terence pushed his laptop aside and
settled back into his cushiony leather chair. He lifted the whisky tumbler
from his desk and inclined his head toward the oak drinks cabinet at the
side of the room. “Get yourself a drink.”
Carson poured himself a measure of scotch and took a seat in the
chair facing his father’s desk. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
Terence quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me. You’ve bought yourself
a new car?”
“No, nothing like that. Can you recall the conversation we had earlier
today?”
Terence sat his glass back down, scowling as he leaned forward to
speak. “No, I haven’t changed my mind and no I’m not withdrawing the
things that I said. I’ve already spoken to Matthew to give him the heads up
so he can start preparing himself to take over your role in the family
business.”
“What?” Carson’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. It hurt to think
that Terence had so little faith in him. “You clearly don’t believe that I can
meet the terms of your request.”
“It wasn’t a request, Carson. It was a command.” Terence lazily
swirled his whisky around the tumbler. “What’s your toast for?”
“I suppose Matthew can’t keep the grin off his face.”
“I don’t know why you think so badly of him. Contrary to your
opinion, he hasn’t been angling to get his hands on your slice of the family
fortune since the day he was born. He accepted my offer with all the grace
and decorum that I expected from him.”
Carson snorted. “I bet he did.” He drained his glass before setting it
aside. He was in no mood to toast anything now.
 “Pick up your bottom lip before you trip over it. Are you going to tell
me your news or not?”
Carson silently pulled out his phone, found the contract Arial had
signed just an hour ago, and pushed the device across the expanse of his
father’s desk. “Signed on the dotted line. Everett drew it up for me at short
notice, so you know it’s legal and by the board. The wedding is a week on
Saturday. I hope Mom can get her dress made in time. She might want to
pop over to France for an urgent appointment with her favorite dressmaker.”
Terence looked startled. He peered closely at the screen and skimmed
his eyes over the contract. “Who is she?”
“Arial Jackson. A sweet young woman who has never welcomed a
man between her sheets or her legs.” He grinned, imagining their wedding
night. Oh yeah, he was going to show his new bride a thing or two. Bedding
a virgin would be new to him but he was certain he was up to the
experience.
“How do I know she’s a virgin?” Terence asked suspiciously. “I
wouldn’t put it past you to have roped one of your loose-legged floozies by
using God knows what as an inducement.”
“Should I be offended?”
“It’s up to you how you choose to feel.” Terence pushed the phone
back across the desk. “Do you have a photo of her? What’s her
background? What’s her family like?”
“Whoa, steady on. The answers to those questions weren’t part of the
conditions. You gave me two conditions and two conditions only; she had to
be a virgin and I had to marry her before the 30th. You can tick both those
boxes and it’s too late to add in any extra conditions now.”
Terence pulled his brows down so low that it was almost impossible
to see his eyes. “It’s never too late,” he growled. “What do you know about
this woman?”
“She’s in her mid-to-late twenties, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and she
can hold her own in a conversation.”
“What else?”
“Uh…” He scrambled through his mind for another snippet of
information. They hadn’t discussed Arial’s background, other than her
recent job loss and the lack of renewal of the lease on her apartment. “She
has been working in a professional capacity up until now but of course that
will cease with the wedding looming. I’m moving her into a room at the
Casino until our wedding day and she’s allowing the lease on her apartment
to slide.”
“Family?”
“A regular pair of parents.”
“And what do they think of their young daughter marrying a
DuMonde?”
“Uh… I’m not sure. She was going to phone them after I left,” Carson
lied. In fact, Arial hadn’t mentioned her parents other than to agree that it
was them in the photograph on the shelf.
“We’ll have to meet them, of course. Sooner rather than later. Perhaps
Friday evening for cocktails. Can you arrange it? We’ll use the penthouse at
the Casino. The view is extraordinary and Darius never lets us down with
his cocktails.”
“Sure.” He tapped a memo into his phone. He would phone Arial
tomorrow and ask for her parents’ number so he could issue the invitation
himself.
“Does your mother know yet?”
“I’m planning on taking her out for lunch tomorrow to tell her the
news. I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the down-low until then.”
“Naturally.” The DuMonde men were used to keeping secrets from
Martha. Terence often said women only needed information when it was
imperative or life threatening that they had it.
Carson stood up and reached for his father’s glass. “Can I get you
another?”
“Thanks.” Terence tapped his fingers on the desk. “Matthew will be
surprised to hear of this new development.”
“Perhaps you jumped the gun by telling him he was about to be
handed a legacy on a plate.” Carson set the refilled glass down in front of
his father. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t have enough faith in me to
follow through and get the job done.”
“I wouldn’t say that I had no faith in you. Let’s just say that I had
very little faith. Are you having another one?”
“Somehow that doesn’t make it any better. And no, one was enough
for me.”
Terence picked up the drink and relaxed back into his chair again.
“When you speak to your mother, tell her that I’d prefer the wedding and
reception to be held at the mansion in the hills. I don’t think I can be
bothered with all that faffing around here. There’s bound to be hot and cold
running wedding planners climbing the walls for the next two weeks and it
will only get on my nerves.”
“Of course.” Carson went to leave.
“Oh, and Carson?”
 “Yes?”
“Try not to fuck this up.”
 Chapter Fifteen
Arial
“What do you mean you need me to come with you to choose a
wedding dress?” Bethany, Arial’s friend since high school, slowly repeated
the words.
“I mean exactly what I just said. I’m getting married in a week on
Saturday and I need your expert eye to help me choose the right dress. What
are you doing this Saturday? I can phone the bridal boutique and make an
appointment.”
“Arial, sweetheart, I know you won’t mind me wording this so
bluntly but have you lost the damn plot? You don’t even have a boyfriend!
You haven’t had a boyfriend since Wyatt cheated on you.”
Arial moved the phone away from her ear for a few seconds and
swallowed the lump in her throat. Why did Bethany have to bring Wyatt up
now? His betrayal still stung, even after all this time. She would not make
the mistake of choosing a man like that again. The man she had just agreed
to marry believed in contracts and speaking honestly. Carson DuMonde
would never treat her as badly as Wyatt had.
“Arial? Are you still there? Or did you put the phone down so you
could go off to look for your senses?”
Arial lifted the phone to her ear again. “I’m getting married at the end
of next week to Carson DuMonde. Do you want to help me look for a dress
or not? I could do with your help.”
Bethany’s squeal almost reached the other side of Arial’s head. “Are
you freaking kidding me? Carson DuMonde? Arial, do you know what this
means?”
“No, but I think you’re about to tell me.”
“The guy’s the hottest billionaire in the country! He’s a confirmed
bachelor and an unrepentant ladies’ man. How on earth did you manage to
capture his heart and why am I only hearing about this now?”
Bethany’s words made Arial feel uncomfortable, especially the
unrepentant ladies’ man bit. She skipped past that part and steered the
conversation onto safer ground. “You’re only hearing about this now
because we hardly ever talk these days. You’re always busy.”
 “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. This little boy takes up so much of my
time. You’ll know what I mean when you have one of your own.” As if on
cue, Bethany’s six-month-old son Nico gave a shriek. “Hey Arial, do you
realize that you’ll be the mother to a DuMonde baby? You’re so lucky.
You’ll probably be soothing him with gold-plated pacifiers and feeding him
mouthfuls of caviar from a silver spoon.”
Arial giggled. “Don’t get too many ideas in your head. I don’t think
we’ll be having a baby straight away. We need some time to ourselves
first.” How long did Carson expect her to wait before falling pregnant?
They hadn’t talked about this. There were so many things still to talk about
and Arial wouldn’t be seeing Carson again until Friday night, when he
would take her out for dinner at the Casino’s five-star restaurant. He’d
phoned her earlier today to ask if he could arrange a meeting between both
sets of parents and he’d been shocked to hear that her parents had passed
away. However, as she’d calmly pointed out, he hadn’t asked her if they
were still alive when he looked at their photo. He’d apologized for being so
crass and for assuming things without asking the right questions first, and
she’d appreciated the way he handled it. That little incident alone had made
her feel better about signing the contract, especially as she’d spent most of
the long and sleepless night regretting her decision.
“I can’t be your chief bridesmaid,” Bethany said flatly, before Arial
had even asked her. “I’m still carrying a bit too much weight after having
Nico.”
“No you’re not! You’re gorgeous! Bethany, I can’t get married
without you by my side. You know better than anyone of how long I’ve
dreamed about my wedding day. I’m going to La Fleur to choose my
wedding dress. It will have to be off the rack at such late notice. I’m sure
they can find something flattering for you, a dress that makes you feel
beautiful. They’re highly experienced in that kind of thing.”
“La Fleur?” Bethany gave another squeal. “Do you know how
expensive that place is?”
“Carson is taking care of the cost. Can you make it on Saturday or
should I choose another time?”
“I have my sister’s baby shower on Saturday, remember?”
“Of course. Sorry. I’m meeting the DuMondes for drinks on
Sunday… how about Monday?”
 “Monday is good for me. I’ll ask Mom to look after Nico. Arial, this
is so exciting but it’s also super fast. We had lunch last month and you
didn’t mention Carson then. How long have you been keeping your
relationship a secret?”
Arial’s pulse quickened. “It’s not a secret. We’ve been very open
about our relationship since we first met.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. Darius and
the croupier had seen them together at the Casino and Carson hadn’t tried to
hide it from those men that he was interested in her. Oh, and the doorman.
The doorman had seen them together too. In fact, if she wanted to get picky
about it, she could also point out that Carson’s lawyer knew about their
pending matrimony as well.
There was a sharp edge of suspicion in Bethany’s voice now. “And
when was this?”
She’d been waiting for this question. Trust Bethany not to let
anything slip by her. “Uh… yesterday. Right after I lost my job at Carmond
& Proctor. I guess it was just good timing.”
“Ok, I get it now. Very funny, ha-ha. You got me good.”
“I’m not joking. Check the news sites in a few minutes. Carson’s
father is going to issue a press release at 2 pm, after Carson has had a
chance to tell his mother over lunch today.” The wording of the press
release had been tricky to navigate. After Carson got over the shock of her
lack of parents, he’d asked her what she wanted him to write on the
wedding announcement. In the end, they’d agreed the official media
announcement should say that Terence and Martha DuMonde were
delighted to announce the engagement of their only son to Abigail Jackson
and just leave it at that, with no mention made of Abigail’s parents. She’d
remembered afterward, after she hung up from the call, that she hadn’t
asked for Steve’s name to be included on the announcement but it was
probably better this way. If Steve somehow managed to get access to the
internet, he might be miffed to see his name on the press release when he
knew nothing about the wedding.
“But why would you marry a man that you’ve only just met? And
why would he? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but Carson DuMonde
could have anyone he wanted.”
“We both have our reasons,” she said airily.
“Oh, Arial. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
 
 Chapter Sixteen
Carson
“Hello, mother.” Carson walked up behind Martha where she sat at
the table and stooped to brush his lips over her cheek. This was her favorite
restaurant and she invariably chose it whenever they met for lunch. “You’re
looking lovely.”
“Oh, there you are Carson. What do you think about this?” Martha
handed across her phone as Carson sat down. She pointed a precisely
manicured phone at the photograph on the screen. “I’m thinking of
redecorating the West Room and this caught my eye. Do you think the color
is too much?”
Carson barely glanced at the image. Martha was always redecorating
something and he genuinely didn’t care about the colors she selected. “I’m
sure that whatever you decide will be perfect.”
She studied him as she switched off her phone. “You’re up to
something.”
He gave a light laugh and lifted his hand to signal to the waiter. “It
never ceases to amaze me how quickly you can jump to conclusions.”
“Ladies don’t jump, dear. Ladies merely glide, like the graceful swans
that we are.” She smiled up at the waiter. “Ah, James. Just the usual for me
thank you.”
Carson didn’t bother to look at the menu. “The steak for me, thanks.
Medium-rare, no garlic in the sauce.”
“So to what do I owe the pleasure of a Wednesday luncheon?” Martha
asked. She was still watching him shrewdly. “You don’t carry a secret well.
You never did. It sits on your shoulder like a disgruntled pigeon until you
set it free.”
“That’s quite an image. I’ll never look at pigeons in the same way
again. Has Dad said anything to you?”
Her perfect brows dove down into a frown. “About what?”
“How do you feel about a quick trip to France?”
“Carson…”
“The mother of the groom must always attend the wedding in
something suitable for the occasion. You don’t have much time so I guess it
will have to be off the rack, but you might like to start thinking of what
color you’d like so you can let them know before you arrive.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”
He smiled broadly, enjoying her reaction. “I mean it. A lovely young
lady named Arial Jackson accepted my proposal and you have just over a
week and a half to prepare yourself. Dad suggested that we hold it at the hill
mansion to save the fuss. It should be a simple matter to air out the rooms
and get the wedding planners in. We can hold both the service and reception
there. It will keep the rubberneckers away and you might want to look at
putting up canvas shelters to prevent helicopters or drones getting early
photographs of the bride as she walks in.”
Martha’s mouth was now hanging open but no sound was coming out.
“Oh, and I’ll leave you in charge of the guest list. You’ve always been
so good at organizing functions and events.”
Martha had found her voice at last. “A week and a half?! I thought
your father asked you to find yourself a bride by the 30th?”
“Why wait once you’ve found the right woman?”
“My goodness.” Martha picked up her linen napkin and fluttered it in
front of her face. “I suppose I could organize a fleeting trip to France
tomorrow morning, and I could work on the guest list on the way. The
wedding planners, once they have their instructions, can work unsupervised
for much of the time until I get back.” She dropped the napkin and clapped
her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I do adore a good wedding!”
“Nice.” Carson remembered the last wedding he’d attended, the
wedding of a friend of a friend in Las Vegas. The friend on whose arm he’d
plus-oned was a naughty lingerie model named Samantha and he still
remembered the delicious taste of her bon-bons…
“Carson! I’ve obviously been speaking to myself for the past five
minutes,” Martha admonished him.
“Sorry. Mind on other things. You’ll be able to pull everything
together in time, won’t you?”
“Yes, with enough help from the right people.” She clicked her
tongue against her teeth. “You’ll be asking Matthew to step in as your best
man, of course.”
“Ah, that would be a big, fat no. Matthew is the last person who I
would consider as my best man.”
“But he’s family…”
 “He’s also after my position in the family. I’m sorry, but Matthew will
not be in the wedding party. I’m planning to ask Michael instead.”
Martha curled her lip. “Not that boorish Michael who was so
appallingly drunk at the Gala Ball?”
“Was he? I didn’t notice. But if you mean my long-term friend
Michael Cavanaar, then you’re right.” Yes, he knew that Michael was fond
of a tipple or six, but the two of them had been through a lot together. A lot
of women mostly.
She inhaled deeply and he watched as her nostrils pinched all the way
shut.
“I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior.”
“You shouldn’t have to. He’s a grown man. You know that a large
contingent of the media will be there. There hasn’t been a DuMonde
wedding for years.”
“Mmmhmm.”
She was silent for several minutes before speaking again. “And the
young lady’s parents? What about them?”
“Why are you and Dad so hung up about her parents? I’m marrying
Arial, not her family.”
“It’s all about the breeding, dear.” She crinkled her brow. “Jackson,
Jackson… the name isn’t familiar. Oh! Unless you’re talking about the
Beverly Jacksons? Such a lovely family.”
“Her parents are dead,” he said bluntly. “Killed in a car accident.
Arial is on her own.”
“On her own?” Martha appeared to be having difficulty with this
concept. “Then who will walk her down the aisle?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about that yet. Does she need to be
walked down the aisle?”
“Traditionally, yes.”
Carson chuckled. “I don’t think we can call this a traditional wedding.
Up until this moment, I’ve only spent four hours in the girl’s company.”
“Excuse me? I thought you said… I thought she must be a long-term
acquaintance of yours.”
“Nope. We’ve only just met. Dad gave me his orders and I followed
them.”
The napkin was now fluttering furiously again. “Oh, Carson. I hope
you know what you’re doing.”
 
 Chapter Seventeen
Arial
Every minute of the past few days had felt like a dream. She was
living in a room at the DuMonde Casino, although it was hardly a room in
the true sense of the word. This so-called room was larger than her entire
apartment and more luxurious than anywhere she had ever lived in the past.
Her possessions from her old apartment, the things she wanted to keep,
were now safely boxed up and she was feeling carefree and unburdened.
Bethany had agreed to accompany her to La Fleur on Monday for the
wedding dress fitting. The owner was both appalled and delighted when
Arial phoned to make the appointment and told her the name of the man she
was marrying. Appalled because Arial would have to choose her dress off
the rack at this late stage and delighted that she was the one chosen to dress
the bride of Carson DuMonde. “This is wonderful news! I’ll make sure I
have no other bookings on the day so that you can have my undivided
attention. How many guests will you be bringing to the fitting? Do you
have a preference for any particular brand of champagne to keep the mood
upbeat whilst you try on your dress? What about finger foods and snacks?
Are you keto-ing or low-carbing? I suppose you must be doing one or the
other with the wedding so close. I’ll make sure that I cater accordingly for
your visit.”
Arial was beginning to understand just how much power the
DuMonde name carried and that was thrilling in itself.
She checked her reflection in the mirror before leaving for her Friday
night date with Carson. At his insistence, she had completely upgraded her
wardrobe, spent several hours at a hair salon, spent another few hours at a
beauty parlor where she’d enjoyed a facial and purchased the latest line in
top range cosmetics, and started an Instagram account under the handle
Bride of DuMonde. Clarice, her newly employed social media whizz kid
and a young woman who spoke almost entirely in hashtags, was taking care
of that but she had a disconcerting habit of appearing from nowhere to take
‘lifestyle’ shots of Arial. She would be at the wedding dress fitting on
Monday but Arial had persuaded her to stay away this evening and allow
her to enjoy her night out with her fiancé.
 Arial’s palms were damp as she made her way over to the elevators.
She’d spoken to Carson several times, and texted with him even more times
than that, but she hadn’t seen him since he left her apartment on Tuesday
night. He was always so sweet and attentive during both his voice calls and
messages but seeing him in person again was daunting. This man had
pledged to marry her and he was committing his life to stand by her side. It
was a massive undertaking and he was probably feeling as nervous as she
was right now.
She arrived at the restaurant, an exclusive space reserved for the
Casino’s high rollers and governed under the strict supervision of a
Michelin-starred chef, to find that she’d arrived before Carson. However,
Darius was there to ease her apprehension. “Good evening, Miss Jackson.”
“Hi, Darius.” They were friends now. Whenever Arial ordered a room
service meal, Darius was always the one to deliver it and whenever she
walked past the Casino on her way out, he was always there with a kind
hello. He was unfailingly polite and he usually stopped to speak to her for a
few minutes. Their conversational topics weren’t too interesting, mainly
things to do with the number of punters at the Casino at that particular time
of day or night, or what the weather was doing outside, but it was nice that
he bothered to stop and talk. Darius was a friendly, comforting face in a
whole sea of new experiences and she could tell that he liked her too.
Darius led her across to a private table with an unsurpassed view of
the shining, sparkling city. “I can never get enough of looking at a city by
night. Don’t you think it’s beautiful, Darius?”
“Very beautiful, ma’am.” Darius flicked open the napkin and laid it
politely across her lap. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait
for Mr. DuMonde?”
“Hmmm – no, I think I’ll wait for Carson to arrive first.” She smiled
up at the man. “Although there is something you can do for me.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
She leaned in close and dropped her voice conspiratorially. “As
terrible as this sounds, I don’t know much about my fiancé. Are you willing
to share any secrets? I know that you’ve worked for him for a while now.”
Darius made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Uh, I’m not
sure if that’s a good idea. One of the reasons Mr. DuMonde employs me is
because of my discretion.”
 “Oh, I’m not asking you to be indiscrete but there must be some little
tidbit you can share.” She softened her eyes and nibbled at her bottom lip
with her teeth, coaxing him to reveal at least something.
“Uh…” Darius looked around, as if seeking some means of escape.
“Darius?”
“He likes chocolate-covered candies,” the waiter said quickly. “The
red ones. He always asks me to put a bowl out in his suite when he’s, uh,
entertaining.”
Arial widened her smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Is there anything
else you can tell me?”
Darius took a moment to straighten the cuffs of his uniform before
replying. “Mr. DuMonde is easily bored. He likes to live life on the edge
and he’s always on the look out for the next new experience.”
“Yes, I’ve seen the articles online about him and his skiing, jet
boating, and paragliding pursuits. He’s obviously an outdoorsy person.”
“Uh, yeah. And indoorsy too.” Darius coughed. “I’ll leave you in
peace, ma’am. You don’t need me hanging over your shoulder. Please
notify me if there’s anything I can get for you.”
“I will. Thank you.” Arial turned her attention back to the twinkling
yellow, gold, and blue lights spread out below her. Somewhere down there,
her handsome husband-to-be was making his way to her side. The thought
sent a thrill through her body. Despite all the doubts that other people were
throwing at them, they would make this work. Carson was obviously a
person with great personal determination and dedication and she was
committed to the marriage from the moment she’d agreed to embark on this
big adventure. Sure, they didn’t know much about each other yet but that
would come with time, as would love and affection. Their beginning might
be a little unusual but their marriage was destined for success. She could
feel it in her heart.
 
 Chapter Eighteen
Carson
There she was, sitting at the table by the window. Patiently waiting
for him and looking like a slice of prime steak. He gave Darius a wink as he
sauntered in. Darius was currently on overtime wages so he could keep an
eye on Arial 24/7. There was still time to cancel the wedding if Arial had
any unsavory or irredeemable habits and Everett had carefully written
enough loopholes into the contract to carry him through if he wanted to
back out.
He was feeling on top of the world this evening. He’d spent the day in
a casual but satisfying dalliance with a ballet dancer named Chantelle. She
was slim and flexible, although she didn’t eat much and she was
embarrassed about showing him her feet after years of dancing on her toes.
However, her sublimely pretty face, ridiculously tiny waist, and ready wit
had enthralled him for a short time and she was happy enough with the pay-
off at the end of their appointment. Now that the press was all over the
upcoming DuMonde wedding, his women were asking for more and more
in return for keeping their mouths shut but he had expected that.
“Good evening.” He courteously bowed his head as he reached
Arial’s chair. “You’re looking lovely tonight.” Whoa. This girl was insane.
Yeah, he’d known she was a looker but now that she was out of those
frumpy clothes and dolled up for a night out she was a knock-out. Despite
the tiredness brought on by his romp with Chantelle today, he felt his body
respond to her eager smile.
“Hi, Carson! Doesn’t the city look amazing from here?”
“It does, but the view in all directions looks good from here.” He kept
his eyes on her face so she couldn’t miss his meaning.
Her cheeks turned pink and she fiddled with the napkin in her lap as
he sat down. “Did you have a good day?”
“I had a fantastic day. How about you?”
“It was busy. Fun but busy.”
“Nice.” He nodded at Darius as the other man approached the table.
“Scotch tonight, thanks. Arial, what would you like? Champagne?”
“Just the one glass.”
 Carson turned back to Arial as Darius walked silently away. “I had
lunch with Mom on Wednesday. She booked a flight to Paris the next day to
organize her Mom of the Groom outfit and the wedding planners are
currently working on the schedule for the big day at the hills mansion.
How’s everything going your end?” Damn, she had awesome breasts. Firm
and not too large. He wondered if they were real. She didn’t seem the sort
of woman to go out and get a boob job but then again, you never really
could tell. From his experience, women seemed to do the oddest things on
little more than a whim.
“I’m meeting the bridal consultant on Monday. My best friend
Bethany is coming to help me choose a dress and of course we’ll organize
her dress at the same time.”
“Yeah, I have to sort out a time to get together with my best man too.”
If he could find him, that is. Good old Mikey had done one of his
disappearing acts again, probably gone to ground with his latest hot hook-
up. Carson had left several messages for him over the past few days and
now all he could do was wait until Michael got in touch. “Are you available
on Sunday?”
“Sunday?” She seemed confused by the sudden change of subject.
“Mom and Dad want to meet you. Mom gets back early on Saturday
evening and she’ll want to rest on Sunday morning, but we can meet them
for drinks on Sunday afternoon.”
“Oh.” She made her mouth into an adorable little ‘o’ shape when she
did that. His thoughts had begun to wander again when Darius reappeared
with their drinks. He sat the champagne flute in front of Arial and then bent
to whisper in Carson’s ear. “Your cousin has just arrived.”
Carson looked past the waiter and over at the bar. Matthew had his
back to them and he didn’t appear to have noticed that they were here. “Has
he seen us yet?”
“Not yet.”
Arial cleared her throat from the other side of the table. “It’s rude to
whisper.”
Carson stared at her, surprised by her mild reprimand. He was used to
doing exactly as he pleased within the confines of the Casino and most
other places too.
Arial steadily met his gaze. “Darius and I are friends and you’re my
fiancé. I’m sure if the two of you have something to say you can say it in
front of me.”
The ‘Darius and I are friends’ bit caught him unawares. He scowled at
Darius and the waiter’s face flushed a deep red. He hastily placed Carson’s
tumbler on the table and backed away.
Arial was still watching him when Carson turned back to face her.
She lifted one eyebrow. “Well? What was the big secret?”
“It wasn’t so much of a secret. Darius was just letting me know that
my cousin is here.”
That ready smile was back. “Oh lovely. Another member of your
family for me to meet.” She looked over at the bar, where Matthew had just
turned around and was surveying the room. “Is that him? I can see the
family resemblance.”
Great, now she was insulting him. He and Matthew were nothing
alike. Matthew was weak-chinned, weak-willed, and he would probably
start to go bald before his 35th birthday. “That’s him. Matthew DuMonde.”
To Carson’s annoyance, Arial lifted her hand and waved. “Should we
ask Darius to bring an extra chair so your cousin can join us?”
“No!” He steadied himself and reduced the volume of his voice when
he saw her startled expression. “I mean, no. I would prefer to spend the
evening alone in the company of my lovely fiancé. We haven’t had much
time together and it would mean a lot to me if we could keep this occasion
intimate.”
“That’s so sweet but your cousin is already on his way across. Maybe
he can stay long enough to have a drink with us before we go on to eat our
meal alone.” Before he could stop her, she signaled to Darius, who was now
hovering by the potted plant a short distance away from Carson’s chair.
“Darius, can you bring another chair over for Matthew?”
 
 Chapter Nineteen
Arial
Carson was acting strangely this evening. He’d walked into the
restaurant looking as cocky as a rooster but perhaps he could be forgiven
for showing a certain amount of swagger within the walls of his own
successful Casino. However, his reaction to his cousin joining them at the
table was bordering on bizarre. Carson had made it clear that he didn’t want
Matthew to join them and he was being unfriendly to the point of rudeness
now. Arial couldn’t see why he was being so mean to his cousin. Matthew
was engaging, outgoing, and he certainly had a healthy share of the
DuMonde charm. He was also incredibly cute, although not quite as
handsome as Carson was. His jaw wasn’t quite so defined and his
cheekbones weren’t quite as intriguing, but she had no doubt that he had his
share of female admirers.
“The two of you look as if you’re close in age. Who is the oldest?
And how many years are there between you?” She was struggling to find a
topic of conversation that wouldn’t set Carson to bristling and snarling and
Matthew jumping on the defensive to protect himself. So far, they’d
skimmed over business activities and the current winning or losing streaks
of various sporting teams, both of which hadn’t ended well, but hopefully
bringing the men’s thoughts back to family would smooth things over.
“I’m the oldest,” said Matthew with another one of his amicable
smiles. “Although not by much. There’s scarcely a month between us.”
“You’re practically twins!” This made their agonistic relationship
even more perplexing. She and Steve were two years apart but they’d
always been the best of friends. She was about to say something about
Steve and his adventurous life but the opportunity was lost when Carson
spoke.
Carson glared at his cousin. “Matthew has his eye on the Dumonde
fortune. He mistakenly believes his slight seniority gives him the edge
despite the fact my father built most of the current wealth, including the
erection of this Casino. Matthew’s mother Lorraine is my father’s sister and
her input into the business has been negligible.”
Carson’s choice of word made her cheeks burn. Did people really go
around throwing words like erection into everyday conversations? Most of
the people that she associated with wouldn’t dream of it.
“Calm down, Carrie. Everyone knows that our great-grandfather
began the business. Your father was just lucky enough to turn up at the right
time.”
Carrie. Arial dared to shoot a glance at Carson. He did not look
pleased by his cousin’s use of what could be a fond nickname in the right
circumstances.
Matthew turned his attention on Arial. “I hope you know what you’re
letting yourself in for, but I guess you know Carson well if you’re agreed to
marry him.”
“Not really.” She tried to catch Carson’s eye but he was staring grimly
out at the city lights. How much had he told his family about their
unconventional marriage arrangement?
“And your parents? Are they pleased for you?”
She realized then that Carson hadn’t discussed her at all with
Matthew. She shook her head. “Unfortunately, my parents are deceased.”
The sympathy in his eyes was genuine. “I’m so, so sorry. In that case,
who will be walking you down the aisle?”
“I wasn’t…” She was about to tell him that she wasn’t going to walk
down the aisle on the arm of anyone when a brainwave struck her. Perhaps
including Matthew in the wedding ceremony would go some way toward
repairing this very obvious family rift? “Actually, I have a request. Would
you do me the honor of escorting me down the aisle?”
Matthew’s eyes lit up while Carson’s expression rivaled the fury of an
unpredicted thunderstorm. “I would be more than honored. Thank you for
asking me. Now if you would please excuse me, I have another
appointment. Enjoy your evening.” He gave her a cheeky wink as he stood
up before clapping the silent Carson on the shoulder. “Guess I’ll be seeing
you next weekend, cuz.”
Carson waited until he was gone before turning cold eyes on Arial.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Excuse me? I seem to recall hearing you say that all decisions
concerning my side of the wedding were up to me? Have you changed your
mind?”
“Did you not notice that Matthew and I do not get along?” The tone
of his voice matched the ice in his eyes.
 “Weddings bring families together.” She wasn’t going to sit here
while he acted like a spoiled child. He was lucky to have a cousin so close
in age to attend his wedding. She would have no one there from her side of
the family. Bethany, along with her friends Catriona, Lucy, and Maggie
were her sole invitees. She had sent a message to Steve but it remained
stubbornly unread, just as she knew it would. She pushed her chair back and
rose from the table. “I’m not hungry anymore and I’m tired after all my
rushing around today. I guess I’ll see you on Sunday. Text me the address
and a time that suits your parents.”
She had only walked a couple of steps when a firm arm snaked
around her waist and wrenched her backward. Her shoulder blades
connected with a hard chest and the arm tightened, imprisoning her. “Don’t
ever walk away from me,” Carson hissed in her ear.
Without pausing to think about it, Arial lifted her new high heel shoe
and brought it down hard on Carson’s instep. The effect was immediate. He
gasped and his arm fell away as he hurriedly moved back. Arial made the
most of the opportunity and scampered across to the elevators, dodging
around Darius on the way.
Carson reached her before the elevator doors could open. He grabbed
her arm and spun her around to face him. His expression flashed pure rage
and she felt a sudden stirring of uneasiness. She hardly knew this man, this
stranger whom she was about to marry, and she’d just assaulted him.
Something told her that she might live to regret that decision. “We need to
talk,” he growled.
He hustled her into the now open doors of the elevator and slammed
his hand down on the button to close them again. He pushed another button
to hold the elevator where it was without the car traveling up or down. Arial
twisted out of his grip and pressed herself up against the shiny metal wall of
the elevator, as far away from Carson as she could get in the enclosed
space. “Don’t touch me again or I’ll scream.”
 Chapter Twenty
Carson
What the dickens was going on in the woman’s head? His foot ached
with fiery pain where she’d just stabbed him with her heel and now she was
cowering up against the side of the elevator like a cornered wild cat. Sure,
he liked his women wild and he didn’t mind a moderate amount of pain, but
that was in the bedroom. He forced himself to speak softly and calmly. “I’m
not going to touch you unless you want me to. Why did you walk off like
that? We were supposed to be having a civilized dinner, having a few
drinks, and getting to know one another before we say our vows.”
“The wedding is off. I have no idea why I signed that stupid contract.
I’d be an idiot to marry a man after just a few days acquaintance,” she spat.
Somehow, she managed to look stunningly beautiful while spitting
fire and outrage. He felt his anger start to dissolve. With the right treatment
and the right amount of persuasion, this girl could be coaxed into a wide
array of fun activities behind the closed doors of his bedroom. He gave her
a slow smile. “That contract is legal and binding. There’s no getting out of
it unless I say so.”
A wave of concern flickered across her face but she managed to shut
it down quickly enough. She lifted her chin in an impressive display of
obstinacy given the situation. “I’ll get my lawyer to take a look at it.”
“You’re welcome to do that but you probably should have done so
before you signed it. Everett stitched it up pretty good.” He drew the words
out, enjoying watching the changing expressions on her pretty face. He
liked expressive women. He liked to see them display their pleasure for his
enjoyment while he took his sweet time on their bodies.
“There must be some way for me to get out of it. You must be able to
see what a bad idea this is.” She’d changed tact now, attempting to persuade
him rather than attack him.
His voice was a low purr. “Arial, I don’t think this is a bad idea at all.
In fact, I think it’s one of the better ideas I’ve ever come up with.” He took
a step closer. “How about we make up and start being friends again? We
started off so well. Let’s swing this situation around and get back on an
even keel.”
 He watched as she visibly swallowed. He was willing to bet that her
little heart was hammering in that enticing chest of hers. He took another
step closer.
Her eyes were now as large as the eyes of one of those cute baby seals
that starred in some of those wildlife shows. “If I scream now, Darius will
hear me and he will come to save me. The elevator hasn’t moved away
from the restaurant and I will make sure that my scream carries far enough
for him to hear me.”
Darius would come to save her? That idea was almost as bizarre as
her thinking that Darius was her friend. This girl’s brain worked in
mysterious ways. “You don’t need to scream.” Not yet. He would enjoy
bringing screams of pleasure to those divine lips once they were married –
and as sure as the Pope was a Catholic, they were going ahead with their
wedding plans. A promise was a promise, in this case in the form of a
signed contract, and he was not a man who reneged on his promises
regardless of his other real or perceived faults. “You don’t need to scream,
Arial. I’m not going to hurt you. Look, do you want to go back to the
restaurant to finish our meal? I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” It
wasn’t strictly true, Chantelle had seen to that, but it was the polite thing to
say.
She hesitated and he made the most of her indecisive wavering as he
continued. “I understand that you’re under a lot of stress. Weddings can be
stressful at the best of times and our situation is very unusual. However, I’m
here to help. I don’t want to start married life off on the wrong foot.”
She wrinkled her nose and glanced at the doors but she seemed
calmer now.
“Friends?” He held out his hand, remembering how she always got so
formal about handshakes.
She inhaled and then quickly exhaled and he was tickled to see the
way her breasts rose and fell in that form-fitting dress. In just over a week,
he could slip off the straps of her gown and explore the places where no
man had been before. He cleared his throat and shifted position, although he
still held out his hand. “Are we friends?” he prompted.
“Ok.” She breathed the word out on a sigh and reached for his hand.
“I’m sorry I stomped on your foot.”
“That’s ok, and I’m sorry that I grabbed you like that. You were only
acting on your instincts when you fought back. At least we’re getting to
know each other’s boundaries.” He gave her hand a warm squeeze before
releasing it. “Arguments always give me an appetite. Are you coming back
to the table?”
There was another brief hesitation before she nodded. “Ok. We do
have a lot to talk about.”
“Sure we do.” He punched the button to release the doors and they
whispered open to reveal the sedate surrounds of the restaurant. He stood
back to allow her to exit and watch the way her hips swung as she walked
back to their table. He followed a few seconds later, not wanting to spook
her again by rushing after her. He passed Darius and gave the man a subtle
nod.
Arial looked up at him from her chair when he reached the table. “I’m
glad we could talk like that and work through the issue. Marriage takes
honesty, commitment, and a lot of give and take. We need to remember that
as we walk through the years together.”
Years? She must have used the wrong word. It was understandable
given how flustered she’d been just a few minutes ago. “Yeah, that’s right.
Honesty and commitment.” And no backing out of a watertight contract,
lady. “Do you want another drink while you get your breath back or should
we go ahead and order dinner?”
 Chapter Twenty-One
Arial
She was more nervous now, before her meeting with Carson’s
parents, than she’d been before her dinner with him on Friday night.
Meeting a man’s parents was an enormous step from whichever angle you
looked at it. What if they didn’t like her? She’d changed her clothes at least
a dozen times and she still wasn’t sure if this mid-calf, pale blue dress was
the right choice but she was running out of time now. Her driver was
probably already waiting for her downstairs.
She stepped inside the elevator and waited for it to carry her down to
the ground floor. Her argument with Carson seemed so long ago now and
she was slightly ashamed of the tantrum she’d pitched. However, the road
to true love was never supposed to be entirely bump free and at least they
could say now that they’d survived their first argument.
She was feeling drowsy in the back of the car by the time the driver
had navigated through the endless traffic and turned into the long, white
gravel driveway leading to the DuMonde mansion. Her sleepiness instantly
left her as she stared out the window. The house was huge. There must be at
least fifty rooms! The design was grand rather than ostentatious and the
leafy, manicured grounds that surrounded the building added a tranquil
peacefulness to the property. In less than one week, this would be her home.
The thought took her breath away.
“Miss?”
She roused herself and saw that the driver was standing outside with
the car door held wide open. “Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming.” She
scrambled out, inadvertently hitching her skirt all the way to her panties
when it caught on the edge of the seat. The driver coughed and looked the
other way as Arial hastily fixed her clothes.
Another man, wearing a uniform very similar to the one Darius wore
at the Casino, greeted her at the front door of the house and led her through
several gorgeous rooms with soft, luxurious carpets on the floor and
beautiful paintings lining the walls before opening a pair of double doors.
“Miss Arial Jackson,” he announced, making the occasion feel formal and
important. She thought her legs would give way from the stress but then
Carson was walking across the room to stand by her side and everything
was instantly better.
Terence DuMonde was a daunting figure in real life but he twinkled
his eyes at her and smiled when he shook her hand and somehow she knew
that everything was going to be ok despite her fears. Martha’s gaze was
shrewder and her handshake briefer and cooler, making Arial acutely aware
that this afternoon was some kind of test that she needed to pass. Not that
she blamed Martha, of course. It must be difficult to come to terms with the
idea that there would soon be two ladies in this house, two wives supporting
their husbands’ business pursuits and playing hostess during business
dinners. She hoped that she and her future mother-in-law would soon
become friends.
The conversation was light at the beginning and then it paused
completely while a maid delivered a tray of refreshments in the form of
cool drinks and light canapés. After the girl left the room, pulling the doors
tightly closed behind her, Terence spoke. His voice was deep and scratchy
around the edges, as if he’d worn it out at some point, and he offered no
smile alongside his statement. “So, tell us something about yourself.”
She was sitting up straight on the edge of one of the elaborately
curved and buttoned armchairs. It was a chair designed for effect rather than
comfort and she hoped that the furnishings in the rest of the house were
more bottom-friendly. “What would you like to know, uh, Terence?” She
mentally slapped herself on the forehead. He hadn’t told her to call him by
his first name and she didn’t know what the protocol was in these
circumstances. She wasn’t his daughter-in-law yet so calling him Dad was
out of the question and she knew that wouldn’t sit easily with her anyway.
Mr. DuMonde felt too standoffish, but what if he had expected her to call
him that?
However, he didn’t seem to notice her concerns over the use of his
first name. “What have you trained in, dear girl? What kind of career have
you made for yourself?”
“I was working for Carmond & Proctor until a few days ago.” Was it
really only a few days ago? It felt like another lifetime now.
“Carmond & Proctor? The advertising agency? Very good.” He
tugged thoughtfully at his beard. “We might have to put you in charge of
some of our future marketing roll outs for the Casino.”
 “Uh, no, I wasn’t working there in the role of a marketer.” She
hurriedly corrected his thinking, embarrassed that she hadn’t explained
herself properly. “My job was more secretarial than creative.”
“PA to the CEO?” Martha enquired.
Arial laughed but she hastily shut it down when she saw that Martha
was serious. “No, ma’am. I worked in the general typing pool. I was
responsible for typing reports and memos for the management team.”
Martha looked as if she’d just swallowed a bug but Terence didn’t
appear too fazed by her confession. “Nothing wrong with a woman taking a
more traditional role in business. Should be more of it. Everyone knows
that women don’t have the right temperament for the rigors of the
boardroom.”
Arial’s palms were damp. She surreptitiously wiped them on the sides
of her thighs before looking up and catching Carson’s eye. He dropped his
eyelid in a wink and she grinned back. This wasn’t too bad. Terence and
Martha were nice enough even if they were a bit stiff and old-fashioned.
She would get used to them over time. Anyway, once she was married her
focus would be on husband rather than on her in-laws. She was marrying
Carson, not taking on the DuMonde family as a package deal.
Martha started talking to her then about her trip to France while the
men went to stand by the window with their drinks. Arial had opted for
coffee and Martha was drinking sparkling water, murmuring something
about fasting before the wedding. Carson and Terence were talking quietly,
too softly for Arial to hear what was being said, and she tried to concentrate
on Martha’s conversation instead. Martha seemed to think that Arial knew
the names of all the people she was talking about and Arial fixed a smile on
her face and attempted to nod in all the right places. In just another hour or
so, she could leave here having successfully crossed another major pre-
wedding milestone off the list.
As Martha paused in her story to sip her drink, Arial leaned across to
the coffee table to select a tiny pastry topped with an olive. As she brought
it up to her mouth, the olive rolled off and fell onto the chair cushion. Arial
quickly grabbed it before Martha saw and stuffed the errant object into the
pocket of her dress, not wanting to draw attention to her clumsiness. Martha
remained oblivious as she sailed back into her description of her favorite
Parisian fabric store.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Two
Carson
He was proud of her when she walked into the sitting room, holding
herself up with grace and dignity and looking like a seventeen-year-old
boy’s wet dream in that blue dress. Terence could be daunting at the best of
times and he’d been in a foul mood for most of the morning. He’d softened
somewhat when Martha finally emerged from her room after catching up on
her sleep following her flying visit to France, but he was still cranky and
quick to jump into an argument without the slightest provocation. It was a
little unfortunate that his first glimpse of Arial had been through the
windows of the sitting room where they’d all watched as Arial climbed
awkwardly out of the car with her dress up around her ears and her panties
on full display, but Terence certainly hadn’t complained about the view.
Martha had tutted and muttered that she could see she had some work to do
with the future Mrs. DuMonde but she’d sounded pleased about it. Martha
had always enjoyed throwing herself into a project.
Martha and Arial were now having girlie chat about Martha’s visit to
Paris. Terence indicated with a nod of his head that he wanted to talk out of
earshot of the ladies and Carson took his drink and went over to join her by
the window.
“She seems very young and unworldly.”
“I thought that was your criteria – you clearly stated that you wanted
me to marry a virgin.”
“Yes, of course. I guess it gives Martha some raw material to work
with.” Terence stroked his beard and looked over at Arial again. “Does she
realize that she’s marrying into a package deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, she knows all that.” Carson had no idea whether she
knew it or not. It wasn’t something they’d discussed. Anyway, it didn’t
matter. The marriage wasn’t going to be forever.
“Matthew told me there was an incident at the restaurant last night.”
Carson looked sharply at his father. How much had that little weasel
said? Had he seen his fight with Arial? “An incident?”
“Yes, apparently there was a small commotion by the elevators.
Carson, I do hope you’ve chosen a mentally stable woman for your wife.”
 Carson gave a humorless laugh. “She’ll fit right in with Matthew if
she isn’t mentally stable. That guy is an idiot.”
Terence flattened his lips. “He told me she stomped on your foot in
full view of the restaurant and you had to restrain her.”
“Have you employed Matthew as your spy now? Look, it was small
understanding. Does she look unstable?”
Both men turned to see Arial pick up an olive from the seat cushion
and for some unknown reason, stuff it into her dress pocket. Terence tapped
his fingernails on the side of his glass. “She is exhibiting signs of unusual
behavior. Has she done anything odd in the past?”
“Define odd,” Carson said lightly. Why had she done that? Wouldn’t a
normal person discretely place the olive back on the plate if she didn’t like
it, rather than rolling it around on the expensive fabric of the armchair
before hiding it in her dress?
“She’s pretty though. Very pretty.”
“She’s certainly a looker.”
“Have you advised her of our expectations in regards to her wedding
dress?”
This was news to Carson. He hadn’t realized there were any
expectations around a wedding dress. “Uh… what expectations are we
talking about now?”
“No cleavage, no tight fabric around the ass or stomach area, and
definitely no color other than white,” Terence recited.
All the things on that do-not list sounded perfect to Carson. A hot
chick in a red dress with her tits hanging out and her ass on show would
grab his attention every time. In fact, it sounded like an exact description of
Gabriella. However, this was a DuMonde wedding and he supposed they
needed to keep up appearances. He considered his words carefully before
responding. “Does Martha know about these guidelines? I’m sure she’ll
pass them onto Arial, as any good mother-in-law would do. Arial doesn’t
have a mother to offer her advice on such an important occasion.”
Both men turned in unison to look at Arial again. She was sitting
primly now, with her hands in her lap, as she hung onto every word that
Martha said. Carson felt another swell of pride. Despite Terence’s
misgivings, he knew he’d done well in his selection of a bride.
“I’ll leave the trivia to Martha,” Terence said, signaling that he was
bored with the entire discussion. He tipped the remainder of his drink down
his throat and turned to look out the window. “The roses are holding up
well. Hopefully the gardens at the hill mansion will look good for the media
photos.”
“I’m sure the gardeners will take care of it. I have absolute faith in
their abilities.” Carson was now just as bored as his father sounded with the
entire topic of the wedding. He was also tired after his big night out last
night with Maribelle, Trixie, and Jordana. The night had ended badly when
Maribelle, overcome by the excitement and too much alcohol, had fainted
for a few seconds in the middle of the boulevard. Trixie and Jordana,
shocked to see their friend lying unconscious on the dirty pavement, had
refused to accompany him to the suite at the Casino where he’d hoped the
fun would continue with all three women serving as his willing
accomplices.  Instead, he’d handed the trio across to his driver and sadly
watched as they departed for their own homes.
Terence turned around without warning, taking Carson by surprise.
“And what about Matthew? I hear he will be walking the young lady down
the aisle. I trust the two of you will behave maturely on the day, as is
expected of a Dumonde.”
There were those damned expectations again. “I can’t believe she
asked him to play the role as a stand-in for her father. In fact, I’m bloody
annoyed. She should have noticed that we don’t get on.”
“Matthew said she invited him to join you for a drink at your table.”
“Against my wishes.”
Terence smiled his second smile of the day. “Well, well. You might
finally have bitten off more than you can chew. Happens to the best of us.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Carson went to get himself another drink
without asking his father if he’d like a top up.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Three
Arial
Bethany was late but Clarice was here. She’d already taken several
posed photos of Arial for the Instagram account: the bride standing in front
of a rack of plastic-covered bridal gowns with a glass of champagne in her
hand; the bride bending to smell the flowers in the gorgeous arrangement of
white roses and lilies on the desk; and the bride standing with her arm
around Joanne, the beaming bridal shop owner.
“Do you want another glass of champagne, Arial?” Over-eager Joanne
already had the bottle at the ready but Arial hastily set her glass down on
the reception desk, out of Joanne’s reach.
“No, thanks. I don’t usually drink at 10.30 in the morning and it’s
already gone straight to my head.”
“Good practice for your big day. Most brides start the day of the
wedding with a fizzy tipple. Do you want to begin looking through the
dresses while we wait for your friend?”
“Uh… sure. Why not.”
Arial sent Clarice away, although she had to state her request firmly
before the girl took any notice. “Clarice, I don’t want the entire world to see
my dress before Carson does. You have a couple of photos to work with and
you’ll have to make do with those.”
Joanne was hanging the first dress Arial had chosen, a floaty Empire
line that reminded her of a Grecian princess, in the fitting room when
Bethany breathlessly burst through the door. “I’m sorry I’m late! Nico
wouldn’t settle and I didn’t want to leave him while he was screaming.”
“You’ve just in time. I’m about to try on the first dress.” Arial pointed
to the Empire line and Bethany immediately pulled a face.
“No, Arial. Not that one. You have a gorgeous figure and you need to
show it off.”
“The Empire style is flattering for all figures,” Joanne put in
haughtily.
“That’s lovely, but Arial doesn’t need to hide her body beneath
swathes of cloth. Is that the only one you like, Arial? We could go
somewhere else if there’s nothing suitable here.”
 For some reason, Joanne and Bethany had taken an instant dislike to
each other. Bethany did this sometimes and often with little warning. She
would suddenly decide that a new person wasn’t her cup of tea and from
then on she would give them the cold shoulder. It seemed that Joanne, now
sour-faced and glaring at Bethany, was created from the same mold.
Arial gave Joanne a conciliatory smile. “We’ll just pop back to the
racks and have another browse through the gowns on display. Keep the
Empire line to one side and I’ll have another think about it.” She looped her
arm through Bethany’s and forcibly marched her friend across to the racks
on the other side of the room. “Can you pretend to like her? Please? We
need to get your dress organized today too and it’s going to be difficult if
the two of you are spitting tacks at each other.”
“Have you lost weight?” Bethany ignored Arial’s comments as she
squinted her eyes suspiciously at Arial’s body.
“I think it’s the new clothes. It’s amazing how wearing different
clothes can make you look so different.”
“Nope, you’ve definitely lost weight. I’m not surprised. I can’t think
of anything more stressful than doing what you’re doing.” Bethany gave a
dramatic shudder that shook her entire body. She was a short girl with a
mane of blonde hair and expressive green eyes. She and Nico were alone
after her baby daddy decided he wasn’t ready to be a father but she swore
she was happier that way.
“I think having a baby would be far more stressful than planning a
wedding.” Arial pulled out a mermaid dress with a subtle spray of sequins
on the bodice. “What about something like this?”
“You need to look like a movie star. It has to be tight and hot.”
Bethany grabbed lustfully for a tight sheath gown.
Arial shook her head. “Martha has given me a list of guidelines. It
can’t be too tight or too gaudy. A DuMonde lady shows class and
refinement in everything she does.” She repeated Martha’s instructions
word for word.
“Martha? Your new Mom-in-law? What’s she like? She always looks
so glamorous in her photos.”
“She’s glamorous in real life too. A bit scary but perhaps she’ll warm
to me over time. I don’t intend to live in her pocket anyway.” Arial selected
a ball gown covered in elaborate flounces. “What about this?”
 “Hmmm, maybe. I’d have to see it on. All those ruffles might drown
you.”
“Carson’s cousin Matthew is walking me down the aisle. Their
relationship is jittery and I thought it might help to smooth things over if
Matthew is a part of the wedding party.”
Bethany contorted her face into a grimace. “Are you sure that’s a
good idea? There will be so much else going on. You don’t need any
simmering family tensions flaring up.” She stopped to consider Arial for a
few moments. “Why is Carson in such a hurry to get married? You told me
you both have your reasons but, and you know I mean no disrespect to you
by saying this, why would he want to marry you after knowing you for only
five minutes?”
Arial glanced over her shoulder but Joanne was on the phone now and
couldn’t overhear their conversation. “His father ordered him to marry a
virgin,” she hissed. “I think we’re a little thin on the ground.”
Bethany’s already large eyes were now huge in her face. “His father
said that? Ewww, that’s really creepy.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be creepy. The family believe that a
virginal woman will be easier to mold and shape into an ideal DuMonde
lady.” She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She was happy with who
she was and she didn’t like the idea of becoming a Martha clone.
Bethany doubled over with laughter, drawing another frown from
Joanne. “Hasn’t he come up against your obstinate side yet?”
“Look, I know that virginal stuff is a load of crock but Carson is
ready for marriage and the offer that he made suits me.”
Bethany was serious again now. “What was the offer?”
“Um, I can’t remember it exactly. I’ll show you the contract once
we’ve found our dresses. So, do you think the ball gown is worth a look? I
probably do need to try it on.”
“What contract? Please don’t tell me you signed a freaking marriage
contract. Arial, that’s archaic. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
Arial hated that Bethany was focusing on all the parts that concerned
her too. “A contract is necessary to protect the DuMonde fortune. It’s fairly
standard nowadays for couples to sign a pre-nup so I don’t know why
you’re making such a fuss.” Was she reassuring Bethany or was she
reassuring herself?
 Bethany didn’t look convinced. “I really, really hope you know what
you’re doing.”
 
 Chapter Twenty-Four
Carson
They were late for their appointment with the tailor for their suit
fitting. Michael had insisted on staying to watch the lap dancers at The
Gentlemen’s Retreat, an upmarket hooker bar, and who was Carson to deny
a man his simple pleasures?
They were both tipsy but not drunk by the time they arrived at the
tailors an hour after their 8 pm appointment. Bryan, a man with exquisite
taste in men’s clothes and long, thin fingers that could spin magic with a
needle and thread, pursed his lips but said nothing as Michael stumbled and
crashed into a display of shirts.
“Ooops. Sorry about that, Bryan. He’s overexcited. It’s not every day
that his best friend gets married.” Carson yanked Michael upright as Bryan
tutted and stooped to collect the fallen shirts from the floor. “Get a grip,” he
whispered loudly in his friend’s ear. “Try and see this as a practice run for
next Saturday. Mom has already commented on your behavior in public.”
“What’s wrong with my behavior in public? And why should Martha
care? She’ll be too busy preening for the cameras and playing up her role as
mother of the groom to the hilt to bother looking at me.”
“Just don’t call attention to yourself like you did at that last event.
She’s still talking about it.”
“I was only having a bit of fun.” Michael brushed Carson’s hand off
his arm. He was a large-framed man, built like a person who would make
short work of a day in the fields, but Michael had been born into a life of
privilege and most varieties of work in the traditional sense were a foreign
concept to him. The Cavanaars had made their money in diamonds and
Michael seemed to think his role in life was spending the family fortune and
collecting notches on his bedpost, which made him the perfect companion
for Carson. Well, he had been the perfect companion up until Carson’s life
took this latest dramatic turn. Right now, Carson needed a best man who he
could rely on and one who wouldn’t show him up on his wedding day.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can ask Jack to stand up beside
me if you’d rather be on the guest list than in the wedding party itself.”
Michael managed to look offended. “Hey, I wouldn’t dream of
skipping out on the role of best man. You can count on me. I won’t let you
down.”
Bryan signaled that he was ready to begin and the men walked into
adjoining fitting rooms to try on the suits the tailor had set aside for them.
After the fitting was complete and Bryan was left to make the
required adjustments, the men went to the bar down the block for a beer.
Michael was raring to hit some of the city’s top spots but Carson begged off
and convinced him to settle for a beer at a sports bar before he headed home
for the evening. It wasn’t like him to say no to a night out and Michael
knew that, but trying on his wedding tuxedo had sobered Carson up and
driven home to him the enormous step he was about to take. Dressing in
tuxedos was second nature to him of course but this suit was different. He’d
stared at himself in the fitting room mirror, trying to imagine what it would
feel like to stand up in front of family and friends and commit his life to
Arial Jackson. He’d quickly tossed that thought aside, annoyed with himself
for allowing it to cross his mind in the first place. He wasn’t committing his
life to the woman. Within six months, possibly even less, he would be a free
man again and back happily playing in the world he knew so well.
Michael chugged back half of his glass of beer and leered at a scantily
clad waitress as she sashayed past. “Can’t believe you’re giving up the
single life. What’s this girl like, anyway?”
“She’s…” He took a minute to search for the right words to describe
Arial and he didn’t notice the smile forming on his face in the process.
Michael nudged him with his elbow. “What’s the grin for? You’re not
getting mushy over a business transaction, are you?”
Carson had told Michael the basic details of his arrangement with
Arial and Michael had sympathized with him over Terence’s ultimatum.
Michael was one of three sons and his older brother had already married
and produced a son of his own. He was off the get-married-and-produce-a-
heir hook and Carson envied him for it. “Nah, I’m not getting mushy,” he
said quickly. “She’s hot. She’s a babe.”
“And a virgin?” Michael crudely licked his lips. “I had one of those
once. Miranda. I like knowing that she’ll never forget me. Women never
forget their first.”
“She’s a sweet thing but I’m starting to get the idea that she’s no
pushover.” Her little tantrum at the restaurant had been the first sign of that
and they’d had a brief tussle yesterday too, after their little tete-a-tete with
Terence and Martha. He’d walked with her through the rose gardens before
calling a driver to take her home and although he was ashamed to admit it
now, he did attempt to kiss her in the privacy of the sundial lawn. It wasn’t
as if he’d planned it. They were standing and talking by the sundial and
she’d giggled at something he’d said, turning her face up and parting her
lips in a manner that was impossible to resist. Unfortunately, she’d guessed
what he was about to do and swiftly ducked out of the way, leaving them
both feeling awkward. She’d asked if she could go home after that and he
hadn’t spoken to her since.
Michael was watching him closely. “I hope you know what you’re
doing. You wouldn’t catch me marrying a chick that I barely knew.”
“It’s not forever,” Carson reminded him. “It’s just to keep the olds
happy. Do you want another beer? I’ll make it my last and then I’ll hit the
road.”
 
 Chapter Twenty-Five
Arial
Today was the day. After a whirlwind of planning, fittings,
appointments, and more than a few tears, Arial was about to pledge her life
to the man whom she would one day come to love above all others. She
stood in front of the large oval mirror in one of the guest bedrooms at the
hill mansion while Bethany rearranged the last curling tendril of hair around
her face.
“You look incredible, Arial. Seriously, I’ve never seen such a
gorgeous bride.”
“Hold still for a minute. Both of you. Just there. Yeah. Beautiful.”
Clarice clicked off another volley of shots.
“You must have enough photos by now,” Arial said sweetly. “Why
don’t you go out and find yourself a seat? I’d like to have a few minutes
alone with my best friend.”
Clarice looked as if she was about to argue but then she nodded. “Ok.
Sweet. Garden shots next.”
Arial waited until the door closed behind her before turning to
Bethany. “I’m so scared.”
“I don’t blame you. This place is a freaking palace!” Bethany spun
around, the skirt of her royal blue gown spinning with her. “I thought I was
going to have a heart attack when the driver pulled up outside.”
“It is nice.” She gazed out the window at the sweeping grounds
guarded by the cluster of purple-hued hills. This property was smaller than
the city mansion but just as grand and just as superbly furnished. Tonight
she would spend her wedding night here with her new husband. The lush
West Wing was closed off and awaiting the new Mr. and Mrs. DuMonde –
at their convenience, of course.
“I had a peek outside earlier. Carson and his best man were out there
mingling with the guests before they went to get changed.”
“What does he look like?”
“He’s amazingly sexy. He’s built like a peasant farmer.” Bethany
rolled her eyes in mock ecstasy. “He can plough my furrow any day of the
week.”
 “Carson?” She certainly wouldn’t have described him like that but
Bethany had always had an unusual way with words.
“No! The best man. Jeepers, Arial. I’m not about to jump on your
husband. What do you take me for?”
“Sorry. My mind is all over the place.” She looked again at her
reflection in the mirror. She’d opted for the ball gown in the end, with an
off the shoulder bodice, cinched in waist, and Cinderella skirt. The
hairstylist who’d been here earlier had woven her hair into an intricate up-
do laced with tiny pearls and her makeup was subtle but sophisticated. She
hardly recognized herself. She looked like a model from the pages of a
bridal magazine.
“Did you manage to get hold of Steve?”
“No.” This was her single biggest regret. She’d messaged him all
week but every text she’d sent remained unread. This was expected but it
was such a shame that her darling brother did not know that she was saying
her I Do’s today.
“He’s going to get a shock when he comes back and hears that little
sis has married into the DuMondes.”
“I know. I hope he’s not mad with me.”
“Have you kissed him yet?”
“What?!”
Bethany giggled. “You should see the look on your face. I’m talking
about Carson, not your brother.”
“Oh. No, I haven’t kissed Carson but he did try to kiss me in the
gardens back at the city mansion. I ducked away from him. I don’t know
him well enough to kiss him.” His attempt to kiss her had taken her by
surprise. They were laughing together by the sundial in the middle of the
rose garden and then suddenly his eyes had darkened and he’d swooped in.
She’d managed to sidestep but it had left an uncomfortable atmosphere
between them. She’d asked him to call a driver to take her home and he’d
readily agreed.
“You don’t know him well enough to kiss him but you’re going to
marry him and share his bed tonight?” Bethany said the words slowly,
spacing each one out. “Did you hear what you just said?”
Arial blushed. She hadn’t allowed her mind to wander down that path
but she had to face facts. She and Carson were to sleep in the same suite
tonight but they wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed. He wouldn’t expect
her to share a bed with him so soon. They would take their time getting to
know each other and then, maybe in a few weeks or so once they knew each
other better, it would happen naturally.
“Are you ok? You look kinda woozy.”
“I am a bit light-headed. This is a massive step for anyone to take. I
always thought I’d marry a man whom I loved with all my heart and I
haven’t had time to fall in love with Carson yet.”
“You can still back out.”
“Apparently I can’t. I finally had a lawyer take a look at that contract
I signed. It’s watertight. He told me off for not consulting him first.”
Bethany wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never been a fan of watertight. If
you don’t want to go through with this, take your dress off now and we’ll
climb out the window and escape. I’ll be by your side regardless of
whatever decision you make.”
“No, I’ll go through with it. I think I’m doing the right thing. He
really is a lovely man and he’s as committed to this as I am.”
“Well, if you’re sure. Here. Take your flowers.” Bethany placed the
trailing bouquet of roses and babies’ breath into Arial’s hands and stared
solemnly into her eyes. “You’ve got this, ok? You can do it. I’ll be standing
up there alongside Carson, the hot best man, and the marriage celebrant by
the time you walk down the aisle with Matthew. He’s waiting outside the
door, by the way. Shall I tell him to give you a few minutes before coming
in to get you?”
“Yes. I need some more time to get my head together.”
“I’ll see you at the sacrificial altar.” Bethany blew her a kiss and then
she was gone.
Couldn’t she have chosen a better word? Arial closed her eyes and
slowly counted down from ten. In little more than twenty minutes’ time, she
would be Mrs. DuMonde forever and always. She exhaled slowly. Just
concentrate on your breathing, Arial. You can do this. You know you can.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Six
Carson
He was nervous even before he took his place at the altar to wait for
his bride. He hated feeling nervous. Nervousness did not sit well on a
DuMonde. He walked through to the adjoining bathroom to rinse his hands
while Michael looked out the window and supplied a running commentary
on all the hot women who were arriving for the ceremony. Carson wasn’t
listening anymore. He gazed somberly at his reflection and attempted to
compose himself. What am I doing?
“Gabriella’s here! I didn’t know she was coming,” Michael shouted
delightedly from the other room. “Fuck me, she’s had another boob job. Her
tits are massive.”
Carson continued to stare morosely into the mirror. If he had his way,
he’d been on the first plane out of here, heading to somewhere exotic where
no one could contact him but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. This was
his only chance to save his place in the familial queue and he wasn’t about
to forfeit everything and hand it on a plate to smug Matthew. He needed to
think of more pleasant things instead of keeping all his focus on the
upcoming ceremony. Those pleasant things could include undressing Arial
tonight once they were in the privacy of the bridal suite, finally kissing
those luscious lips, and leading her to the marital bed.
“Are you ready?” Michael suddenly appeared in the doorway. “We
have to go and wait at the altar for your sweet little lamb to arrive.”
“I guess.” He dried his hands on the towel and allowed Michael to
adjust his corsage.
“The chief bridesmaid is a cutie. Do you know if she’s single?”
“Uh, yeah. She’s single but she has a baby.” Arial had told him her
name. Barbara? Bonnie? Beth?
“Ah, physical proof that she puts out. I thought she might be uptight
and chaste like your bride.”
Carson frowned at him. “Arial isn’t uptight. She’s outgoing and
friendly.”
“On the surface. Seriously, how many women are still virgins in the
mid-twenties these days? She’s either uptight about sex or her father has
forced her to wear a chastity belt since she turned sixteen.”
 “Her father is dead. Matthew is walking her down the aisle in his
place, remember?”
Michael gave a snort. “And that’s probably the funniest part about
today. Why did you agree to it?”
“I didn’t …” Nope, he wasn’t going to tell Michael that his bride had
made the decision for him. He’d never live it down. “We should go out
there. It’s nearly time.”
“Well, good luck.” Michael gave him a hearty clap on the back. “My
deepest condolences and all the rest of it.”
The men had just reached the door leading out to the fern garden,
where chairs with white bows on the back had been set up for the guests
and strings of tiny lights decorated the palms surrounding the entire area
when Martha hurried across the lawn toward them. “Everything is on
schedule and all the guests are here.” She fussily rearranged Carson’s
corsage again. “I do hope your bride isn’t planning on keeping everyone
waiting for hours. We had the area sprayed but there are still a few little
bugs about.”
“I’m sure she won’t. She probably wants to get this over and done
with just as much as I do.”
Martha turned a cool stare on Michael. “And you, young man. I
sincerely hope you won’t let your family down again today with your
appalling behavior.”
Michael gave her a sickly smile.
“Mom, you need to go and sit with Dad.” Carson pressed a light kiss
on his mother’s cheek. She smelled cloyingly of Chanel No. 5 and face
powder. “Everything is about to start.”
Her eyes filled with sudden tears and she nodded before walking
away. Carson felt a pang of regret. His mother should be getting emotional
because he was marrying a woman he loved and instead this wedding made
a mockery of both the term and concept of marriage. He was marrying Arial
because he’d been forced into it and while there was no doubting the
woman’s physical desirability, this was never going to be a long term
arrangement. His mother should save her tears for the real deal, which
would be years away from now. He knew better than anyone that he wasn’t
ready to settle down.
“Your mother is undoubtedly the scariest woman I’ve ever met,”
Michael muttered.
 “My father runs a close second. Hey, can you try to tone it down a bit
today? This is an important occasion for my parents.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Michael peered out at the throng of well-wishers.
“Your nuptials have drawn quite a crowd.”
“Yes, most people RSVP’d a yes which was a little unexpected. We
didn’t exactly give them much notice.”
“I doubt that many people would say no to an invite to a DuMonde
wedding, even if they had to scramble to rearrange their schedules in order
to get here for the big day. Come on. Your fans are waiting.”
The nervousness was back, sitting in the pit of his stomach like a
dodgy takeaway. He stared straight ahead as he stepped out of the house.
He’d already said hello to most of the guests earlier and the ones he hadn’t
spoken to yet could wait until this debacle was out of the way.
They walked across the lawn and up the aisle to the altar, a wooden
lectern decorated with strings of flowers and yet more of the ubiquitous
fairy lights. The nattily dressed marriage celebrant smiled at him. “Are you
ready?” she asked softly. “You don’t need to be nervous. I’ve done this a
hundred times before now and I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”
“Ha.” That didn’t do much to boost his confidence. The pretty chief
bridesmaid gave him a lusty wink before her gaze slid across to Michael.
Bethany. That was her name. He remembered it now.
A small stir behind them alerted him that the bride was beginning her
slow walk down the aisle. He took a deep, shuddering breath, braced
himself, and turned around. His heart suddenly stopped and hung uselessly
suspended in his chest. Walking toward him with her eyes firmly fixed on
his own was the most beautiful bride he’d ever seen.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arial
She was suddenly stone cold sober. Her wedding day had been a true
fairytale come true but Carson had whispered in her ear a few minutes ago
that they would slip away soon and retire to their suite in the West Wing.
She grabbed Bethany as she sashayed past with two glasses overflowing
with champagne, the expensive beverage slopping all over the floor without
Bethany noticing or caring. “I need to pee. Can you come and help me with
the dress?”
“Sure, babes. I’ll just take Michael his drink and then I’ll be back.”
Carson’s friend Michael was boorish and uncouth but Bethany seemed to
like him. She’d flirted up a storm with him for most of the afternoon and
evening and the man had lapped up her attention.
Bethany returned a few minutes later and she walked with Arial to the
bathroom attached to the room they had used to get ready in earlier. “I’m
having a blast. Did you know that this is the first real night out I’ve had
since Nico was born? You should get married more often.” She was slurring
her words and her cheeks were candy pink.
“It is fun. Everyone seems to be in party mode now.” Particularly
some of the beautiful women guests. She’d seen them all, the Gabriellas
and the Sorayas and the Giselles, sliding up to Carson to ensnare him with
their eyes while their manicured fingers danced lightly up his arm and
settled possessively on his bicep.
Bethany held up the bulk of Arial’s gown and multiple petticoats
while she gingerly lowered herself down onto the toilet seat. “You’d think
someone would’ve invented an easier way for brides to pee by now.”
“I’m worried about dripping on my white dress. Can you pass me
some toilet paper? This is so awkward.”
Finally, and with lots of fumbles and giggles, the task was
accomplished. They returned to the guest room and Arial sat down on the
bed. “My feet hurt.”
“You looked adorable when you and Carson danced the bridal waltz.
You look perfect together. I have my fingers crossed that the two of you can
work through your unusual start and make a marriage that lasts.”
 “I do too.” I Do. She stared in wonder at the gold band on her ring
finger. The ceremony itself was a blur but she did remember the moment
that Carson pushed the ring onto her finger. He had gazed into her eyes and
it had felt as if they were the only two people present.
There was a sudden knock at the door and Bethany hurried across to
open it. Carson stood on the other side, his eyebrows raised in question. “Is
everything ok? I was hoping to escort my dear wife to our suite.”
Arial joined Bethany at the door, trying hard not to let on that her
heart was beating like a wild thing. “I’m ready.”
They talked about the wedding as Carson led the way across to the
West Wing. The music from the party was in the distance now, along with
the shouts and sounds of laughter. There was no doubt that the celebrations
would go on well into the small hours of the morning but for now she was
alone with her handsome husband.
“After you, ma’am.” Carson pushed open the door and stood back.
This room was enormous. A king-sized bed covered in a mountain of satiny
cushions took pride of place, but there were also several arm chairs, a large
desk and chair, a cocktail cabinet and bar fridge, and a chaise lounge.
“This is lovely. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to decorate all
the rooms in your homes.” She was babbling in an attempt to cover her
nervousness. She hoped he didn’t notice.
“Mom. It’s her favorite hobby. She’s always decorating or
redecorating something.” He walked over to the cocktail cabinet. “Drink?”
“No. I couldn’t drink another thing.” Why did she feel so exhausted?
She was feeling fine just fifteen minutes’ ago. She looked around the room
again, noticing Martha’s distinctively fastidious touches this time. She’d
spoken to her mother-in-law a couple of times during the photography
session and reception but their conversations had been stilted and brief.
“I might go and have a shower.” She placed her hand on the bathroom
door and stopped. Bethany had done up all the buttons that lined the back of
her gown when she helped her to get dressed. She would need Carson to
undo them, otherwise she would be sleeping in her wedding dress. “Can
you help me with my buttons?”
“Of course. By the way, your bags are all waiting for you in the walk-
in closet.” He nodded at a door alongside the bathroom.
“Thanks.” She stood very still. It was disconcerting to feel his fingers
on her back through the light fabric of the gown and feel his hot breath on
her bare shoulder. She was relieved when he’d finished. “I won’t be long.”
She collected one of her bags from the walk-in closet, another grand affair
that she knew she had no hope of ever filling with clothes, and hurried into
the bathroom.
She was glad to step out of her gown and too tired to pick it up off the
polished marble floor. It was out of the way down there anyway, and it
would be dry cleaned before she stored it away, so it wouldn’t come to any
harm. She pulled as many pearls as she could from her hair and dropped
them on top of the vanity unit. With her hair hanging half up and half down,
she stepped under the shower and stood there without moving as the warm
water rained down. She’d always imagined that she would have sex on her
wedding night but whenever she’d pictured that scenario she’d never
imagined that she wouldn’t be in love with her husband. Sex would have to
wait, at least until she knew him better. Carson would understand. He’d
been so caring and supportive today, predicting her needs and wants before
she opened her mouth.
She climbed out of the shower and dried herself on one of the
gorgeously soft towels. Her eyelids kept drooping and she was struggling to
stay awake. She pulled on a new pair of silky pajamas that she’d fallen in
love with at the lingerie boutique and then stood by the door. She was
having second thoughts now. What if Carson expected sex? It was generally
a major part of the wedding package, part of the I-Do deal.
She shook herself and decisively placed her hand on the door handle.
No. There would be no sex. For now, she was dead on her feet and all she
wanted to do was fall between the sheets and sleep. He would understand.
She opened the bathroom door and walked out into the bedroom.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Eight
Carson
He’d enjoyed the post-wedding party more than he thought he would.
Everything got easier once the vows were out of the way. He’d pecked his
new wife on the lips when the marriage celebrant said he could now kiss the
bride, the congregation had politely clapped, and then he and Arial were
whirled away for champagne and wedding photos. The photos had been a
drag but the champagne had helped. Bethany and Michael seemed to hit it
off too, if the blatant flirting between them was any hint of the attraction.
The wedding breakfast was fantastic but he expected nothing less. A
caterer who dared to supply inferior quality food to a DuMonde event
would never live it down and might as well kiss goodbye to their career.
He’d enjoyed seeing some of his past conquests among the guests and yeah,
he’d seen flashes of envy in more than one pair of pretty eyes. However,
those ladies were far too experienced in the ways of the world for him to
have ever considered any one them for the role of a DuMonde bride. Never
mind, they could make up for lost time once he’d shrugged off the shackles
of this fake marriage and he was a free man once again.
There had been an awkward moment with Matthew as well. For some
reason known only to himself, his dear cousin had taken it upon himself to
advise Carson not to ‘cock things up with Arial’. The fact that Matthew
thought he wanted his advice was infuriating enough in itself but the
realization that Matthew was firmly Team Arial was even more annoying.
Carson hadn’t replied to the comment, instead turning on his heel and going
off to get himself another drink.
Anyway aside from all that, everyone had seemed to enjoy
themselves, Arial too, and now they were in the bridal suite ready to
consummate their marriage. He’d toned down his drinking over the past
couple of hours, wanting to be at his best when he showed his virgin bride
just what life was all about, and he was definitely looking forward to what
lay ahead of them for the remainder of the evening. She’d dazzled her way
through the day and he couldn’t wait to see the body that lay behind that
stunning wedding gown.
The bathroom door opened and he turned to see Arial walking out of
the bathroom. For some bizarre reason, she was wearing pajamas instead of
the lacy lingerie he’d anticipated but he’d soon have those old lady-ish and
unsightly garments off her.
“Hey, Mrs. DuMonde.” He walked across to where she stood, puzzled
to see that she’d scrubbed her face clean and was no longer wearing any
suggestion of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course, but in his
experience women liked to enter his bed looking as artificially perfect as
they could be.
“Hey. What a day. I still as if I’m walking on air.” She gave him one
of those sweet smiles of hers.
“Well stay right where you are ‘cos I’m about to take you to the moon
and back and it helps that you’ve had a head start.” Yeah, it was corny but
somehow he knew she wouldn’t have heard all the old lines before.
“What?” Her frown made a deep crease between her brows.
Win some, lose some. They didn’t need words anyway. He pulled her
into his arms and crushed his mouth down on hers, pleased to finally have
the chance to taste those delectable lips. He reared back seconds later,
holding his hand to his throbbing, bleeding mouth. “You bit my lip!”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Carson DuMonde?” She
was sparking and fizzing like a firecracker. A firecracker in granny
pajamas.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Fuck, I’ll probably need a
blood transfusion after that. I hope you’ve had your goddamned rabies
shots.” He took his hand away from his mouth and stared incredulously
down at his blood-coated finger.
“Just because I scrawled my name on a marriage certificate it doesn’t
give you any right to manhandle me like that.” She had her hands on her
hips now and her eyes were still flashing danger signals.
“Can’t a man even kiss his wife without her trying to rip his lips off?”
“There’s a right way and a wrong way to go about it and that was the
wrong way.” She stalked past him and began throwing the pile of cushions
that decorated the bed down onto the floor. “You’re probably drunk.”
“I’m not drunk!” Jeez, she’d know if he was drunk all right. He
walked into the fuggy warmth of the bathroom that still smelled of her
perfume. He stepped over her discarded wedding dress to splash water onto
his mouth in an attempt to get rid of the blood. He picked up the wedding
dress on his way back out. Didn’t the dumb broad realize how much this
had cost him? He stopped in the doorway and stared across the room. She’d
switched off the bedside light and was now nothing more than a prone,
silent form beneath the covers. He tossed the gown onto an armchair and
walked across to the bed. “Arial?”
“Yeah?” Her voice was sleepy and far away.
“Uh, you’re going to have to move to one side so that I can get in
with you.” He began to unbutton his shirt. The bite on the lip had given him
a fright but it might be tantalizing taste of what was still to come.
“What?” She was instantly alert, sitting up in bed and glaring at him
with the blankets pulled up to her chin like some kind of irate maiden aunt.
“You’re not sleeping in here.”
“I’m not?” He stared at her face, expecting her to break into a grin
and tell him she was teasing him.
“I’m not sharing my bed with you. We might be married but we need
time to get to know each other before we sleep together.”
“Huh?” This definitely wasn’t in the script.
“Goodnight.” She lay back down and stuck her nose under the
blankets. Within seconds, she was snoring.
What the fuck had just happened? He glumly took a spare blanket
from the end of the matrimonial bed and went to lie down on the
uncomfortable chaise lounge by the window. Martha had a habit of
choosing furniture that was covered in stiff fabric and too many buttons.
The noise of the celebrations continued outside and he wished he could go
back out there and join in the fun. However, it wouldn’t be right for the
groom to leave his new bride in her bedroom on their wedding night and
return to the party alone. He sighed as he draped the blanket over himself
and tried to avoid a particularly annoying button that kept wedging itself
under his hip. He hadn’t chosen a frigid woman for a wife, had he? Good
one, Carson. You sure can pick ‘em.
 
 Chapter Twenty-Nine
Arial
She had now been Mrs. DuMonde for a whole three weeks and it still
didn’t feel real. The day after the wedding, they’d moved back to the city
mansion and left the hill mansion behind in the care and the flurry of the
post-event managers and their teams, who were whisking away the huge
bags of garbage and the wedding reception chairs and tables as Arial and
Carson drove off without a backward glance. She’d apologized for making
him sleep on the chaise lounge but as she pointed out, it was his house. He
could have easily found another room with a comfortable bed in that
enormous mansion and he was just being a martyr by sleeping on the chaise
lounge. He didn’t have much to say about that. In fact, he was very quiet for
most of that day as they settled into the city mansion. They had agreed to
postpone their honeymoon until a later date; the wedding ceremony had
been enough of a whirlwind and it made sense to wait a while before
planning a honeymoon.
The younger Mr. and Mrs. DuMonde occupied the entire second floor
of the city mansion, although Arial still had to pinch herself in an effort to
make it feel real. On the second floor, there were seven bedrooms, eight
bathrooms, three living or sitting rooms, and a bar with a billiard table.
There were also a library and a study, and a separate flight of stairs and an
internal elevator so that the young DuMondes did not have to interact with
the older DuMondes if they didn’t choose to. It was incredible to her that
people lived like this yet thought nothing of their good fortune.
Carson seemed wary around her, as if he was worried that she might
turn hysterical if he laid a hand on her without his permission. It was getting
slightly annoying now. Yes, she’d scolded him for throwing himself at her
on their wedding night and she’d bitten him on the lip to stop him
devouring her, but that had been an instinctive reaction. She hadn’t meant to
draw blood. It was supposed to more of a warning than an attack. He
needed to be careful when unexpectedly springing his passions upon her
because it always ended badly. Perhaps that was what he was doing now
with all his wariness and his caution. Not that they’d sat down and talked
about it. They didn’t get much time to talk because he was busy with work
and they weren’t even sharing a bedroom.
 The bedroom issue was a sticking point for him and she knew that.
He’d made it clear that they should sleep in the same room, even if it was
just for appearances sake. However, she’d been quick to point out that no
one else could ever know that they weren’t sleeping together, except for the
maids who came to make up the rooms each day, and all of the DuMonde
employees were restricted by their employment contracts from breathing a
word about what went on inside the cloistered walls of the mansion.
Anyway, there was some physical affection between them now so he
couldn’t complain too loudly. Things were heading in the right direction
and wasn’t a slow burn better than a big explosion that would probably be
over as soon as it began?
She smiled to herself, remembering the first time he’d kissed her. Or
rather, she’d kissed him. It happened on the one week anniversary of their
wedding vows. She’d expected him to say something about the fact they
were one week into their marriage over breakfast on that Saturday morning,
but Carson had been distracted and largely silent while he ate his toast and
stared down at the stocks and shares website on his tablet. She’d dropped a
little hint, something like ‘my, doesn’t time fly?’ but he’d merely grunted
without looking up.
He'd gone out after that, telling he needed to call into the office, and
she’d dropped around to see Bethany and Nico. Unfortunately, she hadn’t
phoned first and they weren’t home. Arial stood outside her friend’s
apartment to phone her to check if she would be back soon but the message
went to voice mail. She asked the driver take her back to the mansion,
where she mooched around until Carson returned mid-afternoon. That was
when the kiss happened.
It wasn’t as if it was planned or anything. Carson had taken a cup of
coffee and gone through to the library and she’d followed him, bored with
herself and anxious for some company. He’d turned and grinned at her
when she walked in.
“What are you reading?”
“I’ve been reading this on and off for about a year now. I really need
to finish it but things keep getting in the way.” He pulled a thick copy of
War & Peace off the shelf. “Have you read it?”
“No, and I have to admit that I’ve never attempted it.” This was
surprising, but it was surprising in a good way. She hadn’t guessed that her
new husband was a reader but then again, there was a lot she didn’t yet
know about him. She walked over to stand with him and casually trailed her
finger along the spines of the books on the shelf in front of them. “Are these
all yours?”
“Yeah. I’ve collected them over the years. There’s everything here
from Winnie the Pooh to the Life of Pi.” He smiled down and her and
well… to be honest, she didn’t put much thought into it. All she knew was
that she felt a massive surge of attraction for this sexy, intriguing man and
she decided to roll with it. She pushed herself on tiptoe and pressed her lips
against his.
He remained utterly still, but only for a moment. Seconds later, the
book tumbled to the floor and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her
close. He kissed her back with a passion and a heat that thrilled her – but it
also scared her. Was she ready for this? She was the one to retreat first and
he didn’t try to stop her. She took a step back and smiled shyly up into his
eyes. “Happy one week anniversary.”
His eyes twinkled. “Ah, so you’re an anniversary sort of woman.”
“Dates are important to me.”
“I’ll remember that.”
That was the closest she’d felt to him since she’d met him and they
had shared a few more kisses since then, although she was usually the one
to instigate the contact. However, she was positive their marriage was
heading in the right direction despite its unconventional beginnings.
 
 Chapter Thirty
Carson
They’d been married for nearly a month and she still hadn’t let him
near her. Oh, there had been a couple of kissing sessions but not much more
than that. She was a good kisser too, which surprised him given the way
she’d reacted to him sharing her bed, although it probably shouldn’t have.
When you’re holding onto your virginity as if it were a state secret you have
to find something to do with your time. She’d clearly had a few boyfriends
in the past to practice her kissing techniques on. Steve the hiking man for
one.
She hadn’t spoken about Steve yet to tell him how he died. Actually,
she hadn’t spoken about Steve at all. Maybe she was still grieving his
death? He had no idea how long ago her boyfriend had died, although she
had told him about her parents’ tragic deaths.
She was a funny wee thing. Odd in a cute, sincere way. That day
when she’d turned her face up to him in the library and he could not stop
himself from kissing her – she hadn’t bitten him or slapped him or anything
crazy then. That was their first kiss and he was glad he took a chance and
initiated it. He was looking for a book in the library at the time, Lord of the
Flies or something, and she came in and started warbling away about it
being their first week anniversary. Seriously, what the fuck? Who takes any
notice of a seventh day anniversary?
Anyway, the kiss was good. Nice. It held promises of more to come
but then suddenly she’d pulled away, calling an end to it before it properly
began. She seemed to think that was enough for now but he couldn’t
remember what it was like to be a virgin. Perhaps a one minute kiss was all
she could handle. Their next few kisses, over the following days and weeks,
were longer but not as long as he would have liked. He was also annoyed
that kissing was as far as it went and it made him wary around her. He
wasn’t sure if all virgins needed to be treated as if they were made of fragile
glass but she definitely did.
He looked out as the city sped past outside the car window. He’d just
had lunch with Gabriella and her pair of perfect breasts in the Casino
restaurant. Arial thought he was ‘at the office’. She hadn’t yet put two and
two together and realized that he didn’t have an office. The study in the
mansion was where he did his administrative work and there wasn’t a hell
of a lot of it. Terence took care of the numbers and there was a team of
admin staff to do the fiddly bits. He kept his nose out of it. It wasn’t his
forte so why bother?
Gabriella had been effusive in her greeting but for some reason he
hadn’t returned her hug with the same warmth as she given him. It might
have been because Darius was scowling at him from behind the bar,
although he had no idea why. He would have to have a chat with the man at
some stage. They were seated at the table by the window where he’d had
dinner with Arial on the night of their fight outside the elevator and
strangely enough, it made him uncomfortable to be there. He kept looking
across the table at Gabriella’s gorgeous botoxed face and mentally super-
imposing Arial’s image on top. After around 15 minutes of that, he signaled
to Darius and asked him to move them to another table. Gabriella had
frowned and asked why but he brushed her off by saying he could feel a
draught and he didn’t want her to get a chill.
Gabriella had flirted outrageously throughout the meal and he’d tried
to flirt back but he kept catching sight of his wedding band. That gold band
was still shiny and new, and he kept worrying at it with his thumb but the
damn thing seemed to have the same magical powers as a Stop sign.
Gabriella had noticed, of course. “What’s wrong? I didn’t think you
were the sort of man who would allow his wedding vows to get in the way
of enjoying a lunch date with a woman.”
“Sorry. Got lots of things on my mind. How’s your champagne? Do
you need a top up? And you have to tell me about your trip to New York.”
Their goodbye had been awkward too. She’d clung to him, breathing
heavily in his ear and asking if they should retire to the suite on the upper
level just like they always used to do but he’d brushed her off yet again.
He’d pleaded a Saturday afternoon board meeting (as if) and kissed her
chastely goodbye after escorting her to the elevators. He might’ve imagined
it, but he could’ve sworn he saw Darius grin when he pushed the Down
button instead of the Up button.
They were nearly back at the city mansion now and he leaned forward
to tell the driver to drop him at the gates. He would walk the rest of the way.
The fresh air would do him good. He needed to unscramble his brain
anyway. He hadn’t dallied with any woman since his marriage and he was
beginning to wonder if he was losing his touch. Or even worse, his urge.
 He walked up the white gravel driveway, past the majestic poplar
trees and around the lazy curve that protected the mansion from any prying
eyes on the street. The house was now directly in front of him and as he
walked toward it, he saw Arial step out onto the wide front step. He was
about to call out to her when someone stepped out behind her. He narrowed
his eyes, thinking it was Matthew at first, but then he realized it was the
man in the photograph. The dead boyfriend? As he watched, Arial wrapped
her arms around the man and kissed him all over his face – in full view of
anyone who might be in the rose garden! – before leading him down the
steps and heading off in the direction of the maze. Furious now, he
quickened his step and hurried after them.
 
 Chapter Thirty-One
Arial
Martha had sent one of the servants up to ask her, or rather to tell her,
if she would meet her in-laws in the downstairs sitting room at three. Arial
had no idea what the meeting might be about and Carson was nowhere to be
found. She knew he was meeting a friend for lunch and she had sent a text
message asking him only to reply if she wasn’t disturbing anything, but so
far there had been no response. His phone was probably switched off. He
often had these lunchtime or early evening meetings with friends and she
didn’t like to pry too much about who those friends might be. He had a life
outside of hers and that was just fine. She had a life outside of his too, or
she would have once she’d settled into her new role. Being a DuMonde
lady was hard work and no one had warned her about that. Not that there
was much time for warnings with an engagement lasting less than two
weeks, but still. It would’ve been nice if someone had thought to give her a
heads up.
Arial had spent several hours in Martha’s company over the past few
weeks as she learned the ways of a DuMonde wife. Apparently, a DuMonde
lady never argued in public, never stepped out without dressing properly
first (by dressing properly, Martha meant lipstick and mascara at the very
least, high heels, and a well-tailored dress), and she seldom ate carbs. Arial
was having a few problems with the carbs part but giving up her favorite
bacon-flavored potato chips was just too hard for now.  A girl needed
something to help her through the stress of becoming a DuMonde.
She hastily stuffed the empty chip bag into the bottom of the trashcan
and went through to the opulent bathroom off the main bedroom to rinse her
hands, brush her teeth, and slick on a coating of lipstick. She was already
wearing a simple shift dress in cornflower blue that should pass muster with
the evil Mom-in-law. Giggling to herself, she hurried down the stairs to
arrive just before the appointed time of three. That was something else a
DuMonde lady had to remember – be on time unless it is for your own
wedding, having lunch with an old flame, or attending a ball. She could
understand the wedding and ball (arriving late ensured you received plenty
of attention) but why would Martha even mention lunch with an old flame?
She wasn’t likely to arrange a lunch date with Wyatt. She had no desire to
ever see him again.
Martha was sipping tea from a bone china teacup and Terence was
standing gazing out across the rose garden with his hands clasped behind
his back when she walked into the room. Both turned to smile at her and as
always when she walked into a room occupied by her in-laws, she felt as if
she was sitting an exam. “Hello. Isn’t it a lovely afternoon?”
Terence gave one of his customary grunts. Her father-in-law’s face
was still handsome, especially for a man of his age, but why was she drawn
to the crisscross of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes? She found herself
imagining the sorrows and joys that might have placed them there. Was
Carson one of those sorrows? Or as his only son, was he a joy to his father?
She had noticed a few tensions between the men and she did not doubt that
they were both stubborn creatures, obstinately sticking to their own
opinions during their conversations.
It was Martha who replied to her light comment about the weather. “It
is lovely, although you should take care of your skin if you choose to go
outside. I saw you before when I glanced out the window. I hope you
applied an adequate amount of sunscreen cream before you ventured out?”
“Um, no. I wasn’t out there long though.” Martha was watching her
from the window? She had felt as if eyes were upon her while she was out
there. She would have to find somewhere more private in future. Not that
she was doing anything obscene, illegal, or reckless out there but she would
like to have the chance to sit outside without Martha nosing out the window
at her.
Arial had just gingerly perched herself next to Martha on the hard,
uncomfortable seat of the sofa when one of the maids tapped at the door.
“What is it?” Terence growled.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir. There is a gentleman at the door for Mrs.
DuMonde.”
Martha frowned. “Who is it, Ellie? I’m not expecting anyone.”
Ellie’s face turned dark red. “Oh no, Mrs. DuMonde. He’s here to see
the younger Mrs. DuMonde.”
“Me?” Arial stood up, poking her finger at her own chest. “He’s here
to see me? Who is it?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am. He said that he just got back from Africa and
he was shocked to hear that you were married.”
 “Steve!” She didn’t stop to explain to the startled senior DuMondes.
She flew past the pink-cheeked maid, through the maze of corridors, and
out into the massive entranceway where Steve was waiting. She shrieked
and threw herself into his arms, almost knocking him off his feet.
Steve laughed and hugged her tightly before setting her back down on
her feet. “Hey, little sis. What’s this I hear about you going off and getting
married without me? Is it a joke?”
She stood back to look at him properly. He was overly tanned and far
too thin but he was one-hundred-percent her Steve. “Look at you! Have you
been eating enough?”
“Speak for yourself. If I sneezed you’d blow away.”
“We need to talk.”
“Too right we do.”
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should go back to
tell the DuMondes that she would have to postpone their meeting. It wasn’t
every day that her adored older brother returned from Africa.
Ellie was looking bug-eyed from Steve to Arial and then back to
Steve again. “Uh, Mrs. DuMonde? Should I tell the elder DuMondes that
you have a pressing engagement?”
“Yes, please do. Give them my apologies and tell them I’ll explain
later.” She was already pushing Steve toward the door and away from the
claustrophobic atmosphere of the house. She hugged him again outside on
the step, and kissed him all over his face just as she used to do when she
was little and she wanted to make her big brother laugh. He laughed again
now, making her laugh too. She pulled at his arm, delighted to have him
here and anxious to show him everything. “Come and see the maze. Can
you believe the DuMonde’s have their own maze?”
 
 Chapter Thirty-Two
Carson
They were in the maze before he could reach them. He turned the
corner of the house just in time to catch a glimpse of them disappearing
around the edge of the leafy green hedge and out of sight. He still couldn’t
believe that she would do this to him. She was his wife, dammit! This was
his home – she was cuckolding him in the very grounds of his childhood
home! The heat was rising in his veins as he strode into the maze to look for
them. Like all mazes, this one had been designed to a specific pattern and
he knew the way through it as well as he knew the back of his hand. But
where had they gone?
He stopped to listen for the sound of voices or giggles. In a way,
giggles would be worse. Arial had an infectious, captivating giggle and he
liked it when she laughed for him. The thought of her giggling up into the
face of another man made him sick to the stomach. He walked around
another corner and then he heard her although he wasn’t yet able to see
them.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
The man didn’t hesitate long before he replied, perhaps only long
enough to stroke her hair back from her face in order to gaze down into her
eyes. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. It tore me apart when I heard you’d
gone and got yourself married.”
Carson couldn’t bear it any longer. “Arrrrgh!” He burst through the
end part of the hedge, sending leaves flying in all directions, to reach the
couple in the middle of the maze.
Arial gave a small, high squeal before slapping his arm while the man
just looked horrified.
“What are you doing, Arial?” Carson growled. Why wasn’t she
gazing guiltily at him, or attempting to apologize or explain herself?
“What are you doing, Carson?” She retorted. “It’s childish to sneak up
on people and scare them like that.”
“Is this him?” The man’s voice was incredulous as he addressed
Arial. “Your husband?”
Carson answered for her. “Yes, I’m her husband and yes, she’s
married to me.”
 “That’s how it usually happens, funnily enough.” Arial glared at him.
Why was she angry with him instead of begging for his understanding?
The man thrust out his hand, although the expression on his face
wasn’t exactly friendly. “Steve Jackson.”
Jackson? Jackson? Actually, now that she mentioned it, they did look
a little alike. He didn’t take Steve’s hand immediately as his brain struggled
to process this unexpected development. “How long have you had a
brother?”
Her brow puckered in confusion. “Carson, are you running a fever?”
“You didn’t tell me you had a brother. How was I supposed to react
when I saw you in another man’s arms?”
“I’m sure I did tell you. You probably weren’t listening.”
Steve, obviously grown tired of holding his arm out in mid-air
without Carson taking his hand, dropped it down by his side. “I should go,
Arial. I just wanted to let you know I was back and to see for myself that
you were ok.” He gave Carson a dubious side eye. “We’ll talk soon but
phone me if you come to your senses and decide this unconventional
marriage isn’t for you. You know I’ll be here in a heartbeat to pick you up.”
“As long as you’re still in the country and not hiking up a mountain in
some far off corner of the world,” Arial teased.
Carson stood awkwardly to one side during this exchange. He felt like
an idiot now and clearly Arial’s brother didn’t think too highly of him
either. Not that he could blame him. It wasn’t the best first impression to
give to his wife’s brother.
Arial led the way out of the maze, navigating it without incident, and
chatting to her brother the entire time. Carson trooped along behind, acutely
aware that he was the third and very much unwanted wheel. Had she really
told him she had a brother? He needed to take more notice of what she said
if he wanted to avoid these kinds of uncomfortable situations in the future.
Steve hugged Arial at the maze exit before saying a cool goodbye to
Carson and loping off across the lawn toward the gate. Arial watched him
leave before turning back to Carson. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
“For you or for me?”
“For me! Steve probably thinks I’ve married an imbecile. He was
shook up enough when he heard that I was married, which was why he
came straight here as soon as he got off the plane.”
“Did you know he was coming?”
 “No, he turned up at the front door and surprised me.” She clapped
her hand over her mouth. “Your Mom and Dad will be pissed at me.”
Why was everything about today so confusing? “Why would they be
pissed at you? They like you.”
She took her hand down from where it covered her mouth and blinked
at him. He suddenly wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted to kiss
anyone before but somehow he knew this wasn’t the right time. “They like
me?”
“Of course they do. What’s not to like?” He took a few steps away
from her to give himself space to breathe. The jealously and anger he’d felt
when he saw her with Steve was not something he’d ever felt before. Was
this slip of a blue-eyed girl who infuriatingly refused to give up her
virginity turning him soft? He wasn’t sure if he liked that idea.
She seemed pleased with his reply. “Hmmm. That’s good to know. To
be honest, I find both of them a little overwhelming.”
Carson chuckled, glad that she was no longer mad at him. “Wait until
you see Terence pitch one of his rages.”
She shivered and rubbed her hands up her bare arms. “Hopefully he
won’t throw one of those rages at me after I walked out of our meeting
without giving them a reason. I was just so excited to see Steve and I forgot
about going back to tell them that my brother was here.”
“Meeting?” This was news to him too. Why was he suddenly out of
the loop with everything? “What meeting?”
“They asked me to meet them in the downstairs sitting room at three.
I texted you to ask if you knew what it was about but your phone must have
been off.”
“Yeah, it was switched off. Hey, you’re cold. We should go back
inside. You can explain your very good reason for walking out on them and
everything will be ok, I promise. They’re not all that bad.”
 
 Chapter Thirty-Three
Arial
Bethany was already waiting at the coffee shop where they’d
arranged to meet when Arial arrived. Bethany shook her head enviously as
Arial approached the table. “I saw your driver drop you outside. It must be
incredible to have a car at your beck and call.”
“I am getting used to it.” She hugged her friend and took a seat.
“Where’s Nico? I was hoping to have a cuddle.”
“He’s with Mom. It’s grandma and grandson time. I think she’s taking
him to the park. How are you? You look fantastic. Married life obviously
agrees with you.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Arial peered quizzically across the
table at her friend. “What is it? You have an extra sparkle.” She sat back in
her chair and her grin widened. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you? I can
always tell. You have that new man glow.”
“Maybe.” She pressed her lips together but the twinkle in her eye
gave her away.
“Are you going to tell me about him?”
“It’s early days yet but we have been on one date. I’ll tell you more
once I know if it’s going to go anywhere.”
They paused to place their orders with the waitress and then Bethany
began to update Arial on Nico’s progress with his crawling. Arial had a
sudden, unwanted flashback to her awkward conversation with her in-laws
yesterday afternoon. The aborted three o’clock meeting was re-scheduled
but once again, Carson wasn’t around to ask him what it was about.
Unfortunately, the subject of the meeting was cringe-worthy and it still
made her uncomfortable to think about it now.
Bethany stopped talking. “What’s wrong? You look preoccupied, as if
you’ve just remembered that you’re supposed to be somewhere else or
something.”
“Sorry. I was listening to you.”
“No you weren’t. Tell me what’s on your mind. I know that
introspective look. It means you’re chewing something over in your head.
Spill the beans.”
 She sighed. “I had an unsettling meeting with Martha and Terence
yesterday. We were supposed to have the meeting a week ago but Steve
turned up unexpectedly…”
“Steve’s back? That’s great! What did he say when he found out that
you’re now a DuMonde?”
“He wasn’t too impressed, especially after Carson accused him of
running around with me behind his back.”
Bethany chortled, clearly enjoying the image she’d created in her own
mind. “What an idiot. He knew you had a brother, didn’t he?”
“I think I told him… Honestly, I really don’t know if I did tell him or
not now. Everything has happened so fast and we’re still discovering stuff
about each other.”
“How long is Steve staying in the country?”
“I don’t know that either. I don’t think he knows himself.” She waited
for the waitress to sit their coffee cups down on the table in front of them.
“Anyway, go back to what you were saying before. About the
meeting with the outlaws. What was that all about?”
Arial took a hasty gulp of her coffee as she attempted to think of the
right way to word what she was about to say. Bethany was going to laugh at
her anyway so she might as well just blurt it out. “They wanted to know
when Carson and I were planning on starting our family.”
Just as she knew she would, Bethany burst into gales of laughter. “Do
people still do that? Did you tell them to mind their own business?”
“They’re different from regular people. To them, everything is about
family and carrying on the DuMonde name. Carson is an only child and at
this stage, his cousin Matthew is next in line. Terence said it’s important
that plans are in place for the next generation of DuMonde males.”
Bethany snorted loudly. “That’s not old-fashioned – that’s prehistoric!
So when are you going to produce a son and heir? They’ll be pissed if the
first baby is a daughter.”
Arial could feel the warmth in her cheeks even before she made her
confession. “A baby is a long way in the future and I won’t be hurried. Not
by anyone. Anyway, we have to sleep together before we can conceive a
baby and we haven’t done that yet.”
Bethany’s eyes bugged out of her head. “What? Why not? Carson is
as hot as hell!”
 “Yeah, but…” She shrugged. “I want to be in love with the man who I
first make love to.”
Bethany was watching her shrewdly now. “And what are the chances
of you falling in love with Carson DuMonde?”
Arial bent her head over her coffee cup and pretended she hadn’t
heard the question.
“Arial?”
She lifted her head to scowl at her friend. “I like him, ok? Love isn’t
instant. Look how long it took me to fall in love with Wyatt.”
“Ugh, don’t mention his name. You know I never liked him. I could
see right through him from the beginning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? It would have saved me a lot of
heartbreak.”
“It’s not up to me to decide who you should fall for.” She reached
across the table to squeeze Arial’s hand. “I hope it does work out for you
and Carson. We both know he’s a playboy and playboys can find it hard to
leave that world behind and settle down. Even the tabloids are gushing over
the fact that he was never the marrying kind and making guesses as to how
long the marriage will last. Just make sure you keep your heart in check
until you know that you can trust him.”
Bethany’s words settled themselves, cold and clammy, around Arial’s
heart. Yes, of course she knew that Carson had enjoyed his share of women
in the past but wasn’t that all behind him now? He had stood in front of his
family and friends and pledged his life to hers despite not knowing her too
well but she’d genuinely believed that he was as committed to this marriage
as she was. She avoided the tabloids, finding their shock-inducing headlines
annoying, but it was worrying to hear that others didn’t give their marriage
much of a chance. Now that she thought about it, Clarice might have
mentioned that she was ‘defusing a social media situation’ but Arial hadn’t
taken much notice.
Bethany squeezed her hand again. Arial could see her own reflection
in her friend’s eyes. “You’ve gone really pale. Your face is as open as the
pages of a book and I know you’ll hate me telling you this, but I can read
everything you’re thinking. What did I just say to upset you?”
“Do you think he’s still fooling around with other women?” Arial
whispered. Why hadn’t she stopped to consider this for herself?
 Bethany released her hand and sat back in her chair. “I don’t know
but until you know for sure, it’s probably best that you don’t jump in head
first to something you’ll only regret later. Keep doing what you’re doing
and take it slow. Ignore anything that I just said about sleeping with him
just because he’s hot.”
Arial took a deep breath. Everything will be ok. “You’re right. We
have plenty of time to sort it out. I’m not rushing into anything.”
 
 Chapter Thirty-Four
Carson
Carson looked up as someone tapped on the door of his study,
although his enquiring look quickly turned to a scowl when he saw who it
was. “What do you want?”
“That’s not very friendly. Terence said I should come on up.”
Matthew walked into the room and slouched himself down into the visitor
chair on the other side of Carson’s desk. “He said you were probably just
sitting at your desk and staring out the window anyway and it looks like he
was right. He must have a crystal ball.”
“What do you want?” Carson asked again. “I’m trying to get some
work done.”
“I’ve just had an enlightening conversation with your sweet young
wife. Our little chat answered a few of my questions.”
“What are you blabbering on about now?”
Matthew studied his nails. “I know I wasn’t the only one taken by
surprise by your rushed wedding. As far as I was aware, you weren’t even
dating anyone and then suddenly you were standing in front of us all
playing the besotted groom. When Arial told me it was an arranged
marriage, it all started to make a lot more sense.”
“She said it was an arranged marriage?” The idea of Arial having a
private little conversation with his cousin niggled at him. He knew she liked
Matthew, although he could not understand why.
“Not in so many words but she did tell me that she signed a contract.”
“A pre-nup. They’re very common. I suppose you’ll sign one too if
you can ever bribe some poor, misguided girl into marrying you. Is that all?
I have to get back to work.” Carson picked up his pen and wrote several
lines of gibberish on his page just to prove a point.
“Is that what you did? Bribe her?”
Carson threw down his pen. “Can you please leave? You’re
interrupting my train of thought with your inane ramblings.”
Matthew didn’t budge from the chair. “She was very interested in
what I had to tell her too. I know it made her uncomfortable to hear it but I
thought it was only fair that she knew the truth about her husband.”
 Carson decided the best way to deal with Matthew was to ignore him.
He stood up from his chair and walked over to the filing cabinet by the
window. He slid open the top drawer and began searching through the files
as if Matthew was no longer in the room.
Matthew paused for only a moment before continuing. “She is such a
lovely person and she deserves so much better. I explained to her that your
reputation with women is less than pristine. Filthy is a better word for it. I
told her that you’re not the marrying kind and she needs to prepare herself
for heartache if she decides to continue with the marriage.”
Carson carried a file back to his desk. Matthew’s comments were
grating on his nerves but he wasn’t going to let on how annoyed he was.
Matthew enjoyed this sort of verbal provocation and Carson had learned
from past experience that it was better not to rise up and bite at his baiting.
Anyway, Matthew hadn’t told Arial anything that she couldn’t have found
out for herself from online news sites or old entertainment articles.
Carson was about to sit down again when Matthew said something
that finally caught his undivided attention. “I told her that you had lunch
with your on-again, off-again girlfriend Gabriella the other week. I also
broke the news to her that from an observer’s point of view, it seems the
relationship is very much on-again.”
Carson leaned his hands on the desk and glowered at his cousin from
beneath his brows, unwittingly replicating one of his father’s common
gestures. “Who told you that?”
“I have my ways and my means of finding out what goes on at the
Casino. Everyone knows that Darius is your puppet on a string but there are
plenty of other people willing to speak up. Your rather passionate embrace
by the elevators was noticed and we all know that those elevators are a
direct route to the suites. People aren’t stupid, Carrie.”
“People are stupid if they didn’t notice that the elevator went down
instead of up. I hope you didn’t spread any malicious and untrue gossip to
Arial. She doesn’t need to listen to your secondhand lies. Now, are you
going to leave my office or do I have to help you find the door?” He moved
around the desk and took a menacing step toward the chair where Matthew
lounged.
“She was happy to hear an unbiased viewpoint. As I said, she’s a
lovely young lady. I like her a lot. I don’t want to see her hurt and we all
know that is the only outcome possible from this farce of a marriage.”
 “An unbiased viewpoint? You’re the most biased person I’ve ever
met!” A tsunami of old feelings and frustrations rolled over Carson as a
flashback of incidents from the past played a slideshow in front of his eyes.
That unforgettable fight in the sandpit, Matthew smirking at him after he
told Terence that Carson was the one who had snapped the branches from
one of the hedges in the maze to use as a play sword, and the day Matthew
ruined Carson’s tenth birthday party by pretending to faint just as the
birthday cake came out.
Carson grabbed Matthew roughly by the shoulder and hauled him to
his feet. “Get up,” he hissed. “Stand on your own two feet and face me like
a man for once in your life.”
Matthew shook off Carson’s hand and returned his hard stare with a
steely glare of his own. “I have plenty more stories to tell the newly minted
Mrs. DuMonde. Unfortunately, I think you’ll keep going out there and
creating plenty of circumstances unfitting for a married man. You just can’t
help yourself when it comes to women. Arial doesn’t need someone like
you in her life. I’ll break this marriage up if it’s the last thing I do.”
That was the last straw. Carson flung himself at his cousin and began
to pummel and punch him. Matthew did not hold back and seconds later,
the men were rolling around the floor, cursing and swearing and knocking
over the furniture.
 
 Chapter Thirty-Five
Arial
Arial reached down to pull the plug out and allow the soapy bubbles
to swirl down the drain. She stepped out of the tub and reached for one of
the impossibly soft bath towels stacked on the rail above the bath. Some
things were far too easy to get used to and luxuriously long baths were one
of them.
She hadn’t been able to get the conversation with Matthew out of her
head. She liked the man but she didn’t exactly trust him. Matthew did not
try to hide the fact that he did not hold a high opinion of his cousin (a
feeling that Carson returned) but her guess was that jealously lay at the root
of the men’s dislike for one another. Matthew was jealous of Carson’s place
in the family line and Carson was jealous that Matthew had more freedom
than he did. Matthew’s father would certainly never order him to marry a
woman before the month was out. There was no reason for him to do that.
Still, what he’d said about Gabriella and Carson was disturbing. She
remembered Gabriella from the wedding. The woman was stunning, even if
some of her assets were obviously plastic, and Arial had noticed the way
she looked at Carson on their wedding day. Because the events of that day
were so overwhelming, Arial had made sure she took a few minutes here
and there just to sit quietly and observe. She had seen numerous women
casting envious glances in her direction, and several more looking hungrily
at Carson. Beautiful Gabriella had sent the hungriest glance of all – and
more than once.
Arial finished drying herself and wrapped the towel around her. She
wrapped another towel around her hair and was about to walk through to
the bedroom to get changed when she heard a loud thump and shouts
coming from one of the other rooms. Frowning, she hurried to the door and
poked her head out into the corridor. She knew Carson was working in his
study so what was all the noise about?
The shouts were louder out here and as she stepped into the corridor,
she heard another heavy item of furniture crash to the floor. She held her
towel around her and hurried down toward the study. Was that Matthew’s
voice she could hear? Why were they fighting? They were supposedly two
adult men who knew better than to get involved in a fistfight with one
another.
She reached the doorway and gasped. Carson and Matthew were
rolling around the floor with their fists flying. A couple of chairs lay
overturned and papers from the desk lay in scattered disarray in front of the
filing cabinet. “Stop!! What’s happening? Why are you fighting?”
The men were so involved in their punching and swearing that they
didn’t hear her. She took another step into the room, making sure to avoid
the flailing limbs and kicking feet. She opened her mouth and shouted at the
top of her voice, “Stop! Stop right now!”
Matthew, who was currently on the bottom of the ruckus while
Carson pinned him down, dumbly turned his head to look at her. It took
Carson a few seconds before her voice sank in and then he too turned to
stare at her. “Uh. Hi, Arial.”
“Look at the pair of you! You’re acting like children! Get up and talk
through your disagreement like two mature adults. I’m ashamed of you
both.”
Carson rolled off his cousin and pushed himself to his feet. Arial
could see now that his lip was bleeding and he had the beginnings of a
bruise on his cheek. Matthew groaned and rolled over onto his hands and
knees before slowly rising. He had a cut above one eyebrow and a bruiser
of a black eye. He tried to grin at Arial but he didn’t quite manage it.
“Why are you fighting?”
“Matthew told me about how he’s been talking to you and spreading
rumors about me. I won’t stand for it and I needed to get it through his thick
head in the only way that he understands.” Carson touched his finger to his
lip and winced.
“He was giving me some cousinly advice. Don’t try to make more of
it than what it is, Carson. You’re starting to make a habit of it and it’s
becoming annoying.” Why hadn’t Carson come to see her about this instead
of starting a brawl with his cousin?
Matthew blinked groggily. Blood from the cut on his brow was now
trickling down his face, making its way across his cheek and onto his chin.
Arial hastily unwrapped the towel from around her head and passed it to
him. “You’re covered in blood. Use this.”
“What do you mean, I’m starting to make a habit of it?” Carson had
turned his anger on Arial now. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”
 “Your nose is bleeding. It’s going to drop on the floor.” Without
stopping to think, she pulled the towel from around her body and handed it
to him. She wasn’t ashamed of her body and he was her husband. He would
get to see it soon enough anyway. She would leave these two ridiculous
men to clean themselves up and she would go back to her room to dress.
Both men gasped in unison as she stood bare-skin naked in front of
them. Matthew’s eyes were as big as dinner plates from behind the towel
that he’d scrunched up to his cheek but it was Carson’s expression that
caught her attention. A combination of admiration, astonishment, and lust
had turned his handsome face into a cartoon caricature that would have
made her laugh if the situation wasn’t so messy.
“Arial! Cover yourself up!” Looking horrified, Carson finally found
his voice. He thrust the towel back at her in a clumsy attempt to hide her
body from Matthew’s view. “Go and get yourself dressed while I deal with
this idiot. I never expected his very first glimpse of a naked woman to be of
my own wife!”
“Take that back, Carrie!” Matthew shouted. “Don’t you dare try to put
me down in front of her!”
After that, it all happened too quickly for anyone to stop it. Dropping
the towel to the floor, Matthew pulled his hand back with unexpected force
and inadvertently caught Arial on the side of the head as she stepped up to
prevent the men’s argument from descending into yet another brawl. She
felt the powerful force of the blow on the side of her head and then
everything went black.
 
 Chapter Thirty-Six
Carson
It should never have happened. He blamed himself. He should have
walked away from Matthew and not allowed his taunts to get to him. He
should have learned from his past mistakes. Now Arial was hurt and it was
all his fault.
He bent over her now, anxious to see if she was feeling ok. They were
in the back of one of the cars while the driver did his best to get them to the
hospital without breaking any traffic regulations and she was laying across
the seat with her head in his lap. Matthew hadn’t meant to hit her, he knew
that, but that didn’t change the fact that his cousin had knocked the poor girl
unconscious. Carson had hurriedly covered her beautiful, naked body with
one of the towels while Matthew, who could not stop apologizing, called for
a driver to bring the car around to their private entrance. There was no need
to get the older DuMondes involved. Matthew had then run down to Arial’s
bedroom to grab her robe. At this point, and much to Carson’s relief, Arial
had opened her eyes and faintly asked what had happened. She seemed
puzzled that she was naked and she had no recollection of the few minutes
immediately preceding the blow to her head.
“Arial? How are you feeling?” He stroked her hair back off her face,
taking care not to touch the side of her head where Matthew’s flying and
badly aimed fist had landed. This girl had his emotions in a turmoil. She’d
snatched the breath from his lungs when she pulled her towel off. Yes, he’d
known that her body would be exquisite beneath her clothes but she was
perfection. A true Venus. And she hadn’t batted an eyelid when it came to
revealing herself. Maybe she wasn’t so uptight after all. Maybe their
problems in the bedroom and their failure to progress in that area were
because of him. Perhaps she wasn’t attracted to him. That thought stung
more than it should have.
“Hmmm?” She stared up at him with those unbelievable baby blues
and his heart tugged and wrenched. He couldn’t bear it if anything bad
happened to her.
“Can you remember anything?”
“I remember having a bath… I don’t remember anything after that.
Did I slip and fall?”
 “Uh, yeah.” It might be best if he allowed her to think that. It would
save him from having to admit that he was fighting with Matthew. It would
also save having to answer too many tricky questions in the ER. Matthew
hadn’t meant to hurt her and he was cut up about the entire thing, making
Carson promise to text him as soon as he knew that Arial was going to be
ok. “The floor was wet and you slipped.”
“Oh.” She snuggled into him and his heart turned over in his chest.
This was weird. His heart didn’t usually do odd things like this. Perhaps he
was the one who needed to see a doctor.
It seemed to take forever to get to the hospital. On one hand, Carson
wanted to get there fast to get Arial the treatment she needed but on the
other hand, he could happily sit in the back of the car all day with her
cuddled up to him like this. He talked to her softly, telling her to stay
awake. She’d frightened him when she lost consciousness back at the house
and he didn’t want to go through that terror again.
When they reached the hospital, Carson scooped Arial up in his arms
and carried her through the entrance doors despite her protests that she was
able to walk in on her own. As soon as Carson gave his name at the desk,
the couple were ushered into a private, curtained cubicle to wait for the
doctor instead of having to ward off the inquisitive stares of other patients
in the waiting room. Sometimes it was extraordinarily worthwhile to be a
DuMonde. Wealth brought its own undoubted privileges.
Carson pulled a chair up close to the bed after laying Arial down on
the thin hospital mattress. He reached for her hand, needing to touch her.
“Does it hurt?”
“It’s not too bad. It’s throbbing a bit but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I
should have watched where I was putting my feet.” She pulled a face. Her
skin was too pale and it concerned him. He needed to see some color in
those lovely cheeks again. Where was the damned doctor?
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this. I know you have a lot of
work to get on with.”
“Don’t be silly! You’re not an inconvenience. I just want you to get
well.” He gently loosened her hand from his and stood up to pull back the
curtain. “I’m going to go and check where the doctor is. Someone needs to
take a look at you as soon as possible. Head injuries aren’t be trifled with.”
He strode across the gleaming white floor to the nurses’ station, determined
to find someone to help. He didn’t care how much it cost or how many
strings he needed to pull with the DuMonde name – someone needed to see
Arial immediately.
The young nurse behind the desk looked flustered when she saw
Carson bearing down on her. “Uh, Mr. DuMonde. The doctor does know
that you’re waiting. Dr. Edmonds will be with you shortly.”
“Dr. Edmonds is right here.” A tall, willowy blonde woman wearing
red-framed glasses and a white coat stepped calmly out of a nearby room.
“What’s the problem?”
The words rushed out of Carson’s mouth in a stuttering rush as his
fear for Arial took over. He knew he sounded nothing like a poised and self-
controlled DuMonde should appear in public but right now he didn’t care.
“It’s my wife. She slipped and fell, hitting her head and knocking herself
unconscious. You have to look at her. I won’t be able to go on if anything
happens to her.”
Dr. Edmonds looked over her glasses at Carson. He could see
immediately that she didn’t recognize him. To her, he was just another
concerned husband hoping to get his wife to the front of the queue. “I’ll be
with her in a few minutes. Why don’t you go down to the vending machine
and get yourself a cup of coffee while you wait? I find coffee always helps
at times like this although unfortunately your wife can’t indulge until we’ve
finished examining her.”
And for probably the first time in his life, Carson obediently did as
she requested without offering up any argument or demanding that she drop
everything she was doing to act on the whim of a DuMonde.
 
 Chapter Thirty-Seven
Arial
She felt so stupid. What was she thinking, dripping water all over the
floor and then standing in it? She needed to be more careful. She lifted her
hand now and winced as she probed with her fingers at the tender spot on
her head. Yes, she had a headache but hopefully it would turn out to be
nothing more than that.
She looked over at the curtain as footsteps approached but they
passed by without stopping. Carson was being so adorably attentive and
caring! She’d seen a new side to him today and she liked what she saw.
Maybe he was starting to develop feelings for her. The thought made her
warm inside.
“Mrs. DuMonde?” The curtain was whipped back by an efficient
doctor with short, blonde hair and red-framed spectacles. “I’m Dr.
Edmonds. I hear you’ve been knocking yourself around.”
“Unfortunately, yes. I slipped over after when I climbed out of the
bath but I can’t remember anything about it.”
Dr. Edmonds lifted Arial’s wrist to check her pulse and then she lifted
her eyelids one at time and peered into her eyes. “We’ll send you for a scan
to make sure everything is as it should be. It’s always better to be safe than
sorry with head injuries. How are you feeling? Are you nauseous? Dizzy?”
“No, nothing like that. My head hurts but that’s only to be expected.”
Dr. Edmonds picked up the chart on a clipboard from the end of
Arial’s bed and wrote something on it. “Your husband is distraught. He
obviously loves you very much.”
Arial blinked, thinking she must have misheard the doctor. “Are you
talking about Carson? I’m married to Carson DuMonde.”
“Yes, that’s the man.” Dr. Edmonds hooked the chart back into place.
“I’ve sent him down to the vending machine to get a coffee in an attempt to
calm him down. I’ve found that men need something else to think about
when they’re worried about their loved ones. Not all of them cope well
when faced with the uncertainty of a hospital visit.”
He obviously loves you very much. … worried about their loved ones.
The astonishing words swarmed around her brain like a cloud of confused
bees.
 “The orderly will be along soon to take you through for a scan. I’ll
talk to you again once I’ve had a chance to evaluate the results.” Dr.
Edmonds gave her a brisk smile and then she was gone, leaving Arial to
stare in confusion at the ceiling. Carson was in love with her? When had
that happened and why hadn’t he said anything to her? She vowed to pay
close attention to his words and actions without revealing what the doctor
had told her.
Carson stepped back around the curtains shortly after the doctor left,
with a takeaway coffee in his hand and his eyes dark with worry. “Has the
doctor been in? I saw her walking away. Do I need to go and talk to her?”
“No. She’s sending me for a scan and she’s coming back to talk to us
after she’s seen the results.” She watched as he pulled his chair close again
and sat down with his elbows leaning on the bed and his face near to hers.
While she couldn’t honestly say that he looked like a man in love, he did
look like a man who wanted the best for her. “That coffee sure smells
good.”
He grimaced an apology. “Dr. Edmonds said you can’t have anything
until they’ve finished examining you. I can drink it outside if the smell is
going to drive you crazy.”
“No, stay here. I want you to stay with me.”
He grinned at her and she smiled back, her eyes locked on his. Do you
love me, Carson DuMonde? Or are you worried about the adverse publicity
for the family if my injury turns out to be something dire?  She suddenly
noticed an odd red mark on his face. “What’s wrong with your face?”
“Uh…”
An orderly stepped into the cubicle and Arial reluctantly broke eye
contact with her husband. She had so many unanswered questions about
their relationship but this was not the time to ask them.
“Mrs. DuMonde? I’m Alfie and I’m here to take you down for your
scan. No, don’t get up. The bed is coming with us.” The young man gave
Carson a reassuring smile. “You can come too if you like. It might get a
little boring waiting here and she might be gone for a while. You’ll have to
wait outside the room while the scan is in progress but you can stay with
her for the remainder of the time.”
Carson jumped up and moved the chair out of the way so the orderly
could get to the bed. “I’ll definitely be coming. I don’t plan on letting her
out of my sight for any longer than necessary. I need to know that she’s
going to be ok.”
“Well, she’s in the best place to get that dealt with.” The orderly
pulled up the guardrails at the side of the bed and released the brake.
“Follow me. We’ll be heading to the elevators and then up to the third floor.
There are chairs and magazines outside the room to keep you occupied
while the technician does what he needs to do.” He lowered his voice, his
eyes gleaming merrily as he attempted to lighten the mood with a little
humor. “The magazines are all out of date but I have it on good authority
that Megan and Harry’s upcoming wedding is going to be an exciting
occasion.”
Carson leaned across to squeeze Arial’s bare foot through the thin
sheet as the orderly trundled her past. She stared up at the lights on the
ceiling as they moved quickly through the corridors. She was acutely aware
of Carson keeping pace at the side of the bed. While she was sorry that the
accident had happened, she was not sorry about the chain reaction it had set
in motion. Without the accident, she would not have had a glimpse of
Carson’s true feelings, the ones he’d kept so carefully hidden up until now.
He obviously loves you very much. She could not remember any other
occasion where a simple sentence had thrilled her more.
 
 Chapter Thirty-Eight
Carson
He wouldn’t even begin to attempt to explain the depth of his relief
that Arial was doing ok and that the doctors did not expect her injury to
have any ongoing repercussions. They had ended up spending hours at the
hospital but he didn’t mind. He was not going to leave the facility until he
knew for sure that Arial did not have a permanent injury.
It was well after dark but the time the driver dropped them home. The
house was lit up downstairs in the area where Martha and Terence lived but
there were only a few lights on upstairs, no doubt switched on by the maids
before they retired for the night. Arial said she was fine to walk inside to
their private elevator but Carson insisted on carrying her up to her bedroom.
He said he would not rest easy until he had tucked her up into bed himself
and made sure she was settled for the night.
It was difficult for him to leave her there alone but she said she was
tired and just wanted to sleep. She looked so tiny in that huge bed with her
face almost the same color as the sheets. He dropped a light kiss on her
forehead, ensured she had everything she needed, and tiptoed out. He was
back at her door at 2am, peeking in on her like an anxious parent with a
newborn babe, but her soft snores had reassured him that she was doing
exactly what she was supposed to be doing.
Matthew turned up first thing in the morning to offer yet more
apologies but Carson curtly sent him away. He didn’t tell his cousin that
Arial believed she’d fallen in the bathroom, although he didn’t purposely
omit that information. It just never crossed his mind to tell him.
Arial was lively and cheerful over breakfast, which made Carson feel
a lot better. He told her that he’d canceled his appointments and was
working from home all day so he could be near if she needed anything. She
said she was happy to spend the day quietly and would probably rest in the
library. Satisfied that she was only a short distance away from where he was
working, Carson returned to his study. The maids had righted the furniture
and cleared away any reminders of his fight with Matthew, a situation that
now embarrassed him to his core. He swore to himself that he would
display greater maturity from now on and if Matthew goaded him, he would
merely turn and walk away. He was a married man, he was the heir to the
DuMonde fortune, and it was time for him to grow up and treat those roles
with the respect they deserved.
He tried to phone Gabriella to beg off their lunch date but it went
straight to voice mail. He left a message apologizing for the late notice and
ended with a vague comment about ‘catching up some other time’. Not that
he intended to do so. Arial’s accident had given him the wakeup call he so
sorely needed. Flirtations with other women were now out of the question.
From this day onward, he would strive to win his lovely wife’s heart and he
would not give up until he’d achieved his goal.
He checked on Arial at mid-morning and smiled to see that she’d
fallen asleep in her chair in the sun. He walked softly across the room to
gaze down at her, amazed all over again by how much he cared for this
woman. How had she managed to sneak her way into his heart without him
noticing? He’d started to believe he was incapable of loving just one
woman but it seemed events had conspired to prove him wrong. He stooped
to gently kiss her lips, touching her mouth with his own with the lightness
of a feather so that he didn’t wake her. He left her to her peaceful dreaming
and walked out of the library, intent on summoning one of the maids to
bring him a coffee before returning to work. Strangely enough, he was more
focused on work now and he had been for several weeks. His carefree
playboy lifestyle had suddenly paled and he would never have thought that
such an occurrence could ever present itself. It seemed marriage had
changed him – and for the better. Perhaps Terence wasn’t blowing smoke
out his ass when he ordered his errant son to find a bride. He might’ve
known something that Carson was unable to comprehend at the time.
He was about to walk back to the study to call for a maid when he
heard the elevator doors open. He turned, expecting to see Martha or
perhaps Matthew again. Both of them had indicated that they would come
up sometime during the morning to check on Arial. However, the person
who stepped out of the elevator was the last person he’d expected to see. It
was neither Martha nor Matthew. Certainly neither of them had ever worn a
dress that hugged every delectably outrageous curve of their body, nor did
they have long, tanned legs and feathery blonde hair.
“Gabriella! What are you doing here?”
She tossed her head and stalked toward him, her eyes glued on his.
“Your father let me in. I told him I had something for you and he said I
would be able to find you in your study.” She stopped in front of him and
pushed her dewy lips into a seductive pout. “Don’t you want to know what
it is that I have for you?”
He could probably guess what it was that she was offering. It didn’t
take a genius to work that out. However, he definitely wasn’t interested.  
“Are you going to show me around?” she purred. “I’ve never been in
your private residence before.”
“Now isn’t really a good time…”
“Nonsense. Anytime is a good time for a good time.” She walked
away from him, making sure her hips told a story of their own.
“Wait…”
She’d reached the study now and stepped inside without asking for
his permission. “Is there where all your hard work gets done? I do enjoy a
bit of hard work. Emphasis on the hard, of course.”
He followed her into the room. “I meant what I said. This isn’t a good
time. My wife had an accident yesterday and I don’t want to disturb her
while she’s resting.”
Gabriella wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her
voluptuous body up against his. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on disturbing
her. The more privacy we have the better.”
 
 Chapter Thirty-Nine
Arial
Arial opened her eyes and for a moment or two, she did not know
where she was. The sun where it fell through the window was warm on her
arms and she could hear the soft murmur of a woman’s voice in the
distance. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head while
everything slowly came back to her. She was in the library, surrounded by
shelves of books and the usual quiet hush that permeated this room. She
remembered coming in here now. She was reading a book about a
lighthouse and she’d kicked off her shoes to make herself more comfortable
in this big, squishy chair. She must have fallen asleep in the drowsy comfort
of the morning sun.
She rose from the chair and went to look for Carson. She loved this
new connection between them and she was eager to see where it went.
Spending time together was an excellent way of exploring their developing
love for one another. And yes, she’d finally admitted it to herself that she
was falling heavily for her handsome man. The doctor’s revelation was a
surprise but her words weren’t the only reason her own emotions had
awoken from their deep sleep. People always said that actions spoke louder
than words and the way Carson had treated her when she was unwell was
incredible – sympathetic, loving, and kind. He’d treated her in the manner
of a man who deeply, genuinely cared for his wife. She was more than
ready to bask in some more of that tender treatment this morning, to
snuggle up close to him as she had in the car on the way to the hospital, and
to feel his loving arms around her.
She padded down the corridor to his study, already anticipating his
smile when she walked through the door. This new level their relationship
had entered was exciting and positive and she couldn’t wait to find out
where it might go next. Well, she had an inkling of where it might go next –
more than an inkling. The next step would mean they would finally share a
bedroom. Now that was exciting.
She could still hear a woman’s voice. Was it one of the maids? Carson
sometimes liked to order a coffee in the middle of the morning. He said it
gave him a boost and the energy to dive back into his work. Maybe she
would order one too and they could sit and enjoy their break together. She
reached the study and was about to walk in when she stopped, shocked into
stillness by what she saw inside the room. Gabriella was in Carson’s arms
with her hands entwined in his hair and her body locked against his. Arial
covered her mouth with her hand and hurriedly backed away before either
of them saw her. Her heart felt as if someone had rudely ripped it from her
chest. Carson’s concern had all been an act, an act good enough to fool both
the doctor and herself.
She turned and ran down the corridor, wanting to put as much
distance between her cheating husband and his paramour as possible. She
punched her hand at the Down button on the elevator, not even sure where
she was going but certain that she wasn’t staying here. The elevator stopped
on the lower level and she stepped out, almost walking straight into
Matthew in her rush to leave the house.
“Hey, steady on there. Whatever it is can wait a few minutes.” He
gazed at her, taking in her disheveled appearance and bare feet. “You do
look as if you’re in a rush.”
“Yes, I need some fresh air.” She went to push past him but he
stopped her.
“I’m glad to see you looking so well. I would never have forgiven
myself if the accident had resulted in any long-lasting effects.”
“What?” She frowned at him, unable to understand his meaning. He
was nowhere near her bathroom when she slipped and fell. Had all the men
in this family lost their minds?
“I’ve never struck a woman in my life. I didn’t see you there and I’m
so, so sorry that I hurt you.”
“What?” He might as well be describing the operation of nuclear
reactors. Nothing he’d said made any sense to her.
A look of confusion settled on his face. “Was the knock to your head
serious? Do you remember what happened yesterday or not?”
“I don’t remember anything after I stepped out of the bath. Carson
said I slipped on the wet floor in the bathroom and hit my head.”
“No, that’s not what happened. I’m not sure why he told you that. You
walked in on Carson and me fighting. We were both bleeding and you
offered us the towels you were wearing, leaving you completely naked.” He
coughed and his eyes dropped to her breasts before darting away again. “I
drew my hand back to punch him and mistakenly hit you. You fell down
and cracked your head on the floor.”
 She was about to tell him that he had to come up with a better story
than that when she stopped herself. She did have a faint recollection now of
a fight and of being so angry that she’d pulled her towels off her body
without caring about her nakedness. Why had Carson lied to her?
“Are you sure everything is ok, Arial? Where’s Carson?”
“He’s upstairs. And no, now that you ask, everything is not ok. My
marriage is a joke.” Carson was as much of a playboy as he’d always been
and he would never change. It wasn’t in his character to make such an
enormous change. She’d talked herself into believing in something that
would never happen. Their marriage was nothing more than a business
transaction and she should have known better than to believe it could ever
be anything more than what it was.
She clenched her fists, feeling her nails cutting into her palms while
she valiantly struggled not to cry. “I can’t stay here, Matthew. Is there any
chance you can get me back into the room at the Casino? The one that I
stayed in before the wedding?”
 
 Chapter Forty
Carson
He’d finally managed to get rid of Gabriella. The woman was as
clingy as a damn limpet and she did not like taking no for an answer. He
should never have involved himself with her in the first place. He sighed.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so harsh on her. She wasn’t the one who had
changed – he was.
He ran back up the internal stairs after putting an extremely
disgruntled Gabriella into a car and sending her on her way. He was pleased
that Arial had slept through the other woman’s visit. It might have taken
some explaining and Gabriella was sure to have done everything she could
to make it difficult for him in front of his wife.
He swung around the library doorway with a jovial comment about
sleepyheads and snoozing the day away poised on his lips but the words
never had a chance to leave his mouth. She wasn’t here. Her shoes were
here, casually kicked off and lying beside the chair and her book with its
pages open sat on the seat cushion but Arial was nowhere to be seen.
He walked down the corridor to Arial’s bedroom, thinking she might
have gone there to freshen up. However, the door stood open and one of the
maids was busily making the bed and plumping up the pillows. “Hi, Mandy.
Have you seen Mrs. DuMonde?”
“The elder Mrs. DuMonde?” Mandy hastily righted herself and
smoothed her hands down the front of her smock.
“No, the younger one. Arial. She was up here just a few minutes ago.”
Or was she? For how long had Gabriella taken his attention?
“No, sir. I haven’t seen her today.”
He hastily checked every other room on the second level but he did
not find her. She might have gone down for a stroll in the garden but she
couldn’t have gone far without her shoes. Puzzled now, he ran back down
the stairs and barreled into Terence’s office without knocking first.
Matthew, who was sitting in the visitor chair and Terence looked up and
stared at him.
“Arial. Have you seen her?” He didn’t bother with pleasantries.
Matthew shifted in his seat, turning to face Carson directly. His
expression was sober and serious and Carson instantly knew that he had the
information he needed. “Where is she?” he demanded. “I want to know
where my wife is.”
“Shut the door and pull up a chair,” Terence boomed. “We have things
to discuss.”
Carson remained where he was, standing in the doorway with one
foot outside the door, poised to run to Arial’s side. “Not until I know where
she is.”
Matthew glanced at Terence before replying. “She’s safe. She’s on her
way to the Casino now.”
“The Casino?” Carson stepped into the room and slowly pushed the
door shut behind him. “Why has she gone to the Casino?”
“I thought you’d finally started to grow some brains over the past few
weeks but it seems I was mistaken,” said Terence. His eyes were hard and
fierce beneath the hairy shelter of his brows. “Your marriage appeared to be
steering you in the direction in which I wanted you to go but it was all
smoke and mirrors. You haven’t changed. What were you thinking?”
 “I think we’re looking at a big head/small head type of scenario
here,” put in Matthew.
“Shut up Matthew,” Terence and Carson said in unison. Carson placed
his hands on the back of one of the chairs but he didn’t sit down. His eyes
were on his father. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”
“Why on earth did you bring one of your women into the house? Did
you really think Arial wouldn’t notice? She’s not stupid, unlike her
husband.”
“I didn’t bring Gabriella into the house! You were the one who let her
in, which you had no right to do.”
Terence blinked. “That was her? I thought she was a florist or
something, bringing flowers to brighten up the sick room.”
“It’s highly unlikely that a florist would come to the house without
any flowers.” Carson dropped his head, cursing the laws of bad timing.
“Arial must have seen me with Gabriella.”
“She did. She saw the two of you together and she came to ask me to
send her back to her room at the Casino. She knows she can rely on me to
take care of her,” Matthew crowed.
“What is going on with this Gabriella woman? Don’t you know a
good thing when you see it? Arial is perfect for you and she’s an ideal
addition to the DuMonde family.” Terence exhaled noisily and sat back in
his chair, shaking his head at his son. “I thought I told you not to fuck this
up?”
“I didn’t intentionally fuck it up. Nothing happened with Gabriella. I
told her firmly that she isn’t welcome here and that I’m not interested in any
kind of involvement with her.” He banged the flat of his hand against the
back of the chair. “Dammit! Everything was going so well after we got back
from the hospital.”
Terence sat forward again. His ferocious frown had returned. “Can
you tell me the real reason you were at the hospital? I don’t believe the
bathroom story. Arial isn’t that clumsy.”
“Matthew hit her and knocked her unconscious,” Carson said bluntly.
“What!” Terence roared. He jumped up so quickly that he sent his
chair tumbling to the floor. He grabbed a book from his desk and Carson
could see that he was about to throw it at Matthew’s head. Matthew had
noticed too and he was now cringing in his chair.
“Wait! Dad, calm down. Matthew hit her by accident. We were
engaged in a small, er, altercation and he didn’t see her standing behind
him. She’s fine. She had a scan and they couldn’t find anything remiss.”
Terence leaned his big hands on the middle of the desktop and glared
across at Carson. “Does the press know about this? Will I open my laptop
and find a scandal pasted right across the internet?”
“No, the press don’t know. We entered a private cubicle soon after our
arrival at the hospital and the staff dealt with us very discreetly. We’ll have
to arrange to send a donation in thanks.”
“Well.” Terence stooped to pick up his chair before sitting down
again. “Make sure it stays that way. The press know far too much about us
as it is. Now, what are you going to do about making things right with
Arial?”
 Chapter Forty-One
Arial
She couldn’t get the image out of her mind of her husband locked in a
passionate embrace with the leggy and beautiful Gabriella. The same leggy
and beautiful Gabriella who had attended their wedding! She didn’t know
which one of them she should reserve her greatest anger for, although
Carson was probably winning that particular race by a short distance right
now. He was the one who’d stood beside her in front of their guests and
pledged his vows, not Gabriella. She couldn’t stay at the mansion any
longer. She wouldn’t. What kind of wife waited meekly to one side, turning
a blind eye while her husband invited his hussies into the marital home and
cavorted with them in their own private rooms?
So now she was here, back in her old room at the Casino with no
shoes and no change of clothes. She probably should have thought this
through a little better but she wasn’t in the right frame of mind for logical
thinking when she fled the house. She paced around the room, unable to sit
still. Bethany had warned her to protect her heart. She should have listened.
Suddenly needing to speak to her best friend, Arial pulled her phone
from her pocket and dialed her number. She waited, counting the rings and
hoping the call wouldn’t divert to voice mail.
“Hey Arial. I was just thinking about you.”
Relieved to hear her voice, Arial sank down into the nearest chair.
“You were right.”
“I’m always right,” Bethany teased her before she paused and spoke
again. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Everything. I’m back at my room at the Casino. I’ve
moved out of the mansion and I honestly don’t know what’s next for me.”
She wished she’d never met Carson. She would’ve somehow managed to
find another job and somewhere else to live. The marriage contract was a
stupid idea from the beginning.
“Why? What happened? Hang on, let me put Nico down and I’ll be
back.” She dropped the phone down and Arial heard Nico’s cheerful
burbling in the background. Her own future looked so cold and dark. Why
had Carson pretended to care about her when he was running around with
Gabriella as soon as her back was turned?
 “Ok, I’m here. Tell me everything.”
“I caught him with Gabriella. You must remember her from the
wedding – the blonde with the pneumatic boobs and the self-satisfied look
on her face.”
“The one in the red dress?”
“That’s her. I was having a little snooze in the library because I was
still feeling a bit woozy from the knock to my head…”
“What knock to your head?” Bethany’s voice had changed, becoming
angry and urgent. “He didn’t hit you, did he?”
“Carson didn’t hit me but Matthew did and before you hang up to go
and ring the police, let me explain. I’d just had a bath and I walked in on the
men fighting with each other and I told them to stop.” She hesitated. She
could remember it clearly now as every detail rushed back to her in vivid
color. “They were both bleeding so I gave them the towels I was wearing.”
She giggled, feeling a little embarrassed by her own brazenness. “I stood
there in my birthday suit and told them to grow up.”
Bethany sniggered. “I bet that put an abrupt end to the fighting.”
“Yeah, but not for long. Carson said something provocative to
Matthew and he took another swing at him. Unfortunately, I was caught in
the middle. Carson rushed me into the hospital and they did a few tests but
I’m fine. Oh Bethany, Carson was so tender and attentive. Even the doctor
commented on how much my husband loved me. I really thought we’d
turned a corner in our relationship but then I walked in on him with
Gabriella.”
“Were they in bed together?” Bethany’s voice oozed sympathy.
“No… she had her arms around him and she was gazing up into his
face.”
“And what was he doing?”
“He was looking down at her and he had his hands on her waist. I
didn’t stick around long enough to see anything else.”
“So what if it was innocent? When you said that you caught them
together, I imagined you’d found them in flagrante delicto.”
She hadn’t thought about this. “But if it was innocent, why haven’t I
heard from Carson to explain?”
“Does he know that you’ve left the house?”
“I don’t know.” Now she was wondering if she should have stomped
off without asking questions first.
 “Arial! You need to get this sorted out. Michael told me that Carson
has been a changed man since marrying you. The two of you have
something worth working on. Don’t throw it all away unless you know the
facts.”
“Michael told you? Michael Cavanaar? Is he the man you’ve been
dating? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bethany laughed. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t really go
anywhere. We went out twice and we got on well but there was no major
spark between us. Nothing like you and Carson have. He also drinks too
much for my liking but we parted as friends.”
Arial had only heard one tiny bit of all that Bethany had just said.
“What do you mean, like Carson and I have?”
“Any fool can see that the two of you have a sizzling attraction for
one another. Now tell me, have you taken that damn padlock off your
virginity yet? I guess you must have if you dropped your towel in front of
him.”
“No. We were getting around to it but it hasn’t happened yet.” Arial
walked with the phone over to the window to look out at the city below.
Where was Carson now? Had he come looking for her once he discovered
she was gone?
“Let your wise friend tell you a little secret. When you see Carson
again, which should be sooner rather than later, make sure the two of you
get some time alone. Talk through this misunderstanding, because I’m sure
that’s all that it is, and then for God’s sake fuck the man!”
Arial snorted. “You always were good at telling it like it is. Should I
phone him?”
“No, and don’t answer his calls. Let him come to you. You want him
to ride in on his fiery steed to rescue the maiden fair. Although if everything
goes well, you won’t be a maiden by the end of it.”
Arial struggled to speak through her giggles. “I feel so much better
now. What would I do without you?”
“You’d be a gibbering wreck. Oh, that’s Nico squawking. It’s time for
his bottle and I have to go. You know what men are like when they’re
hungry. Talk soon, ok?”
 
 Chapter Forty-Two
Carson
Damn that Gabriella! If she hadn’t barged into the house and kissed
him and groped him as if he wanted it as much as she did, none of this
would have ever happened. He’d tried calling Arial several times now but
she refused to pick up her phone. He’d considered going down to the
Casino to confront her in person but he’d quickly decided against it. He
would give her time to cool down first and hopefully reach the same
conclusion as he had. She should have asked him what was going on rather
than storming off like she did.
The entire situation would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous. Not so
long ago, he had mistaken Arial’s brother Steve for her boyfriend, and now
Arial had mistakenly imagined a relationship between him and Gabriel
when there was none. They really needed to work on their communication
skills, which was exactly what they would do as soon as this latest mess
was behind them. From this moment on, communication was the key. It had
to be if he wanted this marriage to work and he now knew he wanted it to
work more than anything else in this world.
He walked listlessly around the rooms of the upper level, unable to
settle to anything. Was she terribly upset? Was she lying on her bed
weeping? Did she hate him? Finally, unable to bear not knowing for one
moment longer, he called the Casino and asked to be put through to Darius.
“Hey boss.”
“Hi Darius. I’m not sure if you know yet, but my wife has checked
back into the room she was using before our marriage.”
“Here?” The man sounded confused.
“Yes. It’s a temporary issue. However, I would like you to keep an
eye on her for me. Make sure she’s comfortable and that she has everything
she needs. If she seems upset, you must call me immediately. Is that clear?”
“Clear as glass.”
“Have you seen her?” he asked hopefully, even though Darius had
already indicated he didn’t know she was there. He just wanted someone to
tell him that she was ok.
“No, but I’ll be on the look out now that I know she’s here. You can
count on it.”
 “Thanks. Phone me anytime.” He hung up from the call and
continued pacing around his study. Patience wasn’t one of his strong suits
and not knowing what she was up to was killing him.
He heard heavy steps in the corridor outside the study and he stuck
his head out to see who it was. Matthew walked toward him, looking wary
and unsure of his welcome. “Do you have a minute?”
“What do you want now? Have you come to gloat about my
misfortune?”
“No… Can we talk?”
Carson hesitated in the doorway before sighing and walking back into
the room. “If we have to.”
“I’ve come to apologize. I should have done it long ago.”
Carson frowned at him from the other side of the desk. “For what?
For sending my wife to hospital?”
Matthew’s face flushed a deep red. “You know I’m sorry about that. I
apologized to Arial and she accepted my apology.”
“I wish you’d checked with me before you arranged to transport her
to the Casino. This is all a huge misunderstanding and a few pointed
questions could have cleared it up before it got to this stage.” He felt
defeated now. The mansion didn’t feel the same without Arial here. Darius
hadn’t called him yet either, and it was a full twenty minutes since their
phone conversation. Was she barricaded in her room, too distraught to
leave?
“She needed my help and I was more than willing to lend her a hand.
To be honest, I believed her when she said she’d seen you and Gabriella
together. You don’t exactly have a great reputation when it comes to
women.”
“I know. I worked hard for that reputation and now it has come back
to haunt me.” He raked his hand through his hair, picturing Arial’s sweet
face and her gorgeous body that he would probably never have the chance
to explore now that he’d ruined everything.
“So… about my apology.”
“What? Oh yeah. What are you apologizing for?”
Matthew pulled himself up to his full height, giving the moment a
certain amount of dignity. “I want to apologize for my lack of cousinly
respect. I don’t know what happened between us to bring about such
animosity but there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be supportive of each
other. I’m not sure that we can ever call each other the best of friends, but
we can certainly act in a friendlier manner.”
Carson narrowed his eyes. “Did Terence put you up to this?”
“No, Uncle Terence knows nothing about it. You know he’s never
understood why we can’t get along.” Matthew walked up to the edge of the
desk and held out his hand. “Can we call a truce on this long-standing feud?
I still have no idea what started it but it’s probably high time that we ended
it. As Arial so rightly told us, we’re supposed to be a pair of grown men and
we certainly haven’t been acting that way.”
Carson stared down at his cousin’s outstretched hand. The mature,
manly thing to do would be to accept Matthew’s apology. Old Carson
would have told him to get out but old Carson no longer existed. He clasped
Matthew’s hand and shook it firmly. “Apology accepted, although I’m
surprised that you don’t remember how the feud started.”
Matthew released his hand and looked at him quizzically. “Because
you always were a spoiled little brat?”
“No! I mean, I’m not denying that I was spoiled. As the only child of
Terence and Martha DuMonde that was inevitable. Can’t you remember
what happened in the sandpit when we were three? You broke my tip
truck.” He knew it sounded petty but heck, it still rankled even after all
these years.
Matthew threw his head back and laughed. “Are you serious? I wish
you’d told me before now. I would’ve gone out and bought you a hundred
little plastic tip trucks to make up for it.”
Carson grinned. “There’s still time. It’s never too late to make amends
and I quite like the idea of lining my bookshelf with one hundred toy
trucks.”
 
 Chapter Forty-Three
Arial
The four walls were closing in on her. Ignoring Bethany’s advice,
she’d turned her phone on again and she couldn’t stop checking for the call
from Carson that never came. She had to get out of here before she went
mad. Darius had been up earlier, politely knocking at her door to ask if she
needed anything, and she’d sent him down to the Casino boutique in the
lobby to buy her a pair of sandals. She was going to order some room
service for dinner but instead she would go the Casino and put a few coins
in the machine before dining in the restaurant. Being around other people
would help.
Darius lifted his hand in acknowledgement as she walked into the
Casino. She went directly over to the bar to see him. “How would you like
to serve a lady a drink?”
“One of my famous cocktails?”
She laughed. “It’s probably not a good idea. In the mood that I’m in,
I’d end up inhaling the entire drink in two seconds flat. I’ll have a white
wine, please.”
She carried her drink over to a bank of poker machines and was about
to sit down when a man appeared beside her. She looked up to see Michael
Cavenaar grinning down at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and he reeked of
alcohol.
“Hello, beautiful lady. Looks as if it’s my lucky night.”
“Hello, Michael.”
He looked confused now but she could see he didn’t recognize her.
He cocked his head to one side. “Are you a mind reader?”
“Uh, weren’t you at our wedding?”
“Was I?” He peered at her and she could see the puzzle pieces sliding
around behind his eyes but failing to click together.
“The DuMonde wedding. I’m married to your best friend Carson, an
important point that you seem to have forgotten.” She shoved her left hand
in front of his face to give him a close up of her wedding ring. There was no
engagement ring yet but Carson said it was coming and she was happy with
his suggestion. They both knew that their so-called engagement was too
much of a whirlwind to treat it as a normal engagement and she preferred to
wait until their love was open and real before accepting his ring – if that
moment ever came. At that stage, she would happily wear an engagement
ring that illustrated the true depth of that love. Sadly enough, she was no
longer sure they would ever reach that impossible summit.
Michael grabbed her hand as if to push it away but instead he pulled it
up to his mouth and kissed her fingertips.
“Ewwww!” She snatched her hand back and had to force herself not
to run to the bathroom to scrub it clean or better yet, slap his smug cheek.
However, she’d never slapped anyone in her life before and while it looked
good in the movies she doubted whether it would play out so well in real
life. “What are you doing?”
He leaned closer. His breath smelled of rum and pepper jack cheese.
“You’d have to be blind not to notice the connection between us.”
“Jeepers, Michael. How much have you had to drink? You’d have to
be dead and buried not to notice that I’m not interested in you.”
“I know the circumstances surrounding your farce of a marriage,”
Michael slurred. “I also know that you haven’t let him fuck you yet.”
The urge to slap him instantly got stronger. Why would a palm that
had never struck anyone on the face in the past itch to lay a ringing slap
across that complacent cheek? “Don’t be vulgar.” She felt like a stitched-up
maiden aunt as soon as she said it. But isn’t that what you are, Arial? You’ve
never had sex. You’re an anomaly, an outlier. You don’t fit into this modern
idea of how the world should be.
“Bethany. Your friend is Bethany.” He seemed pleased with himself
for remembering this. “We dated a couple of times.”
“I know. She told me.” She sat down on the stool and dropped a
couple of coins into the machine, hoping he’d get the hint and go away.
“Why isn’t your devoted husband with you now?” Michael stood
close behind her, pressing himself against her back. She turned around to
glare at him. “Do you mind?”
He didn’t move. “No, I don’t mind. In fact, I like it a lot.”
“Don’t be such a creep.” She scrambled off the stool and picked up
her wine glass. “You should go and sober up. Learn some manners while
you at it. I’m sure Carson won’t be impressed to hear that his best friend
was hitting on his wife.”
“If he really wanted you he wouldn’t allow you to be sitting in here
on your own while he’s out with Gabriella.”
 Arial stopped walking and spun around. “He’s out with Gabriella?”
Michael seemed to be having difficulty seeing her. “That’s what
Gabriella told me.”
“When? This afternoon? Or earlier?”
Michael waved his hand around, although his gesturing didn’t make
much sense. “Some time. I don’t know when.”
Arial looked at him uncertainly for a few seconds longer before
walking back to take a seat up at the bar. Darius frowned at her. “What’s
up? You don’t look happy.”
“No, I’m not happy.” She sipped glumly at her wine before centering
the glass in the middle of a gilt-edged coaster etched with the Casino motto.
Dumonde Casino, A Place Where Your Fortune Can Change For The Better
In An Instant. Her fortunes were on a rapid downward incline at present and
she was just waiting for the sickening crash once she reached the bottom of
that incline. Yes, Michael was appallingly drunk but what if there was some
truth in what he’d just said?
“Can I do anything to help?”
She gave Darius a faint smile. “No, but thank you for offering. I have
to work this out for myself.”
He nodded solemnly before turning away. She watched as he picked
up the receiver on the desk phone and punched in a number. She sighed and
spun around on her chair to look out across the bright, glittering lights of
the Casino. Carson hadn’t come looking for her. He clearly didn’t care, or at
least he didn’t care while he had the beautiful Gabriella to distract him.
Soon she would have to make a decision about the future of her marriage
but it wouldn’t be tonight. She was too dejected for any major decision
making tonight.
 
 Chapter Forty-Four
Carson
Darius’s phone call had shaken him, sending his thoughts reeling and
laying all of his emotions bare. He cared about that girl. He knew that now
without a hint of doubt and he wasn’t going to waste another minute. It
pained him to think of her sitting forlornly at the Casino bar, all alone and
looking miserable. He wasn’t going to allow her any more time to cool
down or get her thoughts together. He needed to be by her side now.
He fidgeted in the back seat of the car all the way into the City,
checking his phone constantly and grumbling about how long it was taking
to get through the traffic. It seemed that everything was conspiring against
him today.
“Sorry about this, sir.” The driver met his eyes in the rear view mirror.
“The traffic is uncommonly busy. I think there’s a concert on at the event
center.”
“Just do your best.” He glared out the window, wishing all the
vehicles would just disappear and leave the road clear.
When they finally reached the Casino, Carson was out the door before
the car came to a complete halt. He ran through the entrance doors, flying
past the startled doorman and racing up to the bar. Darius shook his head as
Carson thumped his hands down on the glossy, varnished wood of the bar
top. “Where is she?”
“She finished her drink and retired to her bedroom. She said she was
going to eat in the restaurant but she changed her mind. She said she might
order from room service later if her appetite returns.”
“Carson!” Michael lurched up behind him and clapped a heavy hand
on his shoulder. “I was just talking about you.”
“You’re drunk.” Carson shrugged his friend’s hand off. “Michael,
you’re a mess.”
The man leaned closer, as if sharing an important secret. “Might have
had a few too many.”
“More than a few. Darius, bring him a coffee and then order him a car
to take him home.”
“Nah, nah. I don’t want a coffee. I was thinking of going to the strip
club.” He hiccupped loudly. “You should come. Bring Gabriella.”
 “Why would I bring Gabriella?” He placed his hands on Michael’s
shoulders and shoved him down onto a stool. “Sit there and have a coffee.
It’s for your own good.”
“Gabriella said you and her have a thing,” Michael slurred.
“No, we don’t have any kind of thing.”
Michael laid his arms across the bar in an attempt to keep himself
upright. “That wasn’t what I told your wife.”
“What?” Carson grabbed him by the lapels and forced him to look at
him. “When did you talk to Arial?”
Michael tried to shrug but failed, almost tipping himself off his stool
in the process. “A minute ago? An hour ago? A day ago? Does it matter?”
Carson turned away without another word and marched across to the
elevators. He punched the button and waited impatiently for the car to
descend. He was not going to leave here without Arial. He needed his wife
by his side. There was no way he would allow her to stay here tonight. She
was coming home with him, where she belonged.
The elevator finally arrived and he rode up to the level where her
room was located. He hurried down the wide carpeted hallway and knocked
on her door. “Arial? It’s me. Let me in. There’s been a huge
misunderstanding and I need to clear it up.”
He waited anxiously, wondering what he would do if she refused to
open the door. He could call security of course, and they would bring a key,
but how would he deal with the idea that she didn’t want to see him?
The lock slid across and she pulled the door partway open. Her face
was very pale, almost as pale as it had looked when she lay in the hospital
bed. “What do you want?” she asked softly.
He had to force himself not to shove the door open and sweep her into
his arms. He’d learned in the past that those bullish tactics did not work
with Arial. “Can I come in and talk to you? I don’t really want to have a
conversation in the hallway of my own Casino.”
She pursed her lips before nodding and opening the door wide. “You
can come in.”
He didn’t hesitate. He strode into the room and took her hand before
pushing the door shut, creating a wall of privacy for what he needed to say.
“I’m so sorry but I wish you hadn’t run before asking me what was going
on.”
“Why was Gabriella at our house?”
 He was pleased that she was still allowing him to hold her hand. It felt
very small and dainty within his own. My God, this woman was beautiful.
He would never grow bored of gazing at that face.
A tiny frown formed between her brows. “Carson?”
He took a deep breath. Confession time. “Gabriella invited herself in.
She propositioned me but I refused her.”
“She must have had a reason to believe that she stood a chance with
you.”
He steadily held her gaze. “We have a brief liaison in the past but I
swear to you that I have not been with another woman since we took our
vows.”
She nodded and he hoped that meant she believed him. “Why did you
lie to me about how I received my injury? You even told the doctor that I’d
slipped in the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry about that too.” He swallowed hard. This was more
difficult than he thought it would be when all he wanted to do was kiss her.
“When I realized that you couldn’t remember the fight I decided for my
own selfish reasons to keep it from you.”
“What were the selfish reasons?”
“I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I didn’t want you to know
how immaturely I’d acted. I wanted you to be proud of your husband.”
“I am proud of my husband,” she said quietly, so quietly he could
barely hear her words. Not that it mattered if he heard her or not. His entire
concentration and focus was on that luscious mouth. He knew he could
never tire of kissing it. He would never tire of anything about this woman
and that realization was more exciting than any business deal he’d ever
transacted. He loved her.
 
 Chapter Forty-Five
Arial
She could scarcely believe he was here with her, speaking calmly and
answering each of her questions in turn.
“Gabriella was never interested in me. She was only interested in my
money and what my money could do for her.”
The problem was that she was having as much difficulty as Michael
had experienced earlier in saying what she needed to say. Carson’s
closeness had flustered her and all she could think of was Bethany’s
suggestion that she should take her husband to her bed. Her heart was
fluttering like a butterfly in her chest and her pulse raced. “Evil is the root
of all money.” No, that wasn’t right. She couldn’t remember the words.
Well, she could remember the words but her brain was having difficulty
getting them in the right order.
Carson didn’t let on that he’d heard her misquote. Maybe that was
because he hadn’t noticed it. He was paying a lot of attention to her mouth
but that didn’t mean he was listening to the words that were coming out of
it.
Somehow they’d moved across the room to the bedroom doorway
without her noticing. She laid her hand on his chest to prevent him from
edging her any further into the bedroom. “Wait. I’ve been doing a lot of
thinking over the past few hours and I need you to be honest with me. Is our
marriage real or not?”
“It’s real. It’s as real as any marriage could ever be.” He let go of her
hand and instead wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close and
kissing her as if he really meant it. She sighed against his mouth and gave
herself up to the kiss. It certainly felt real.
They broke apart but he still held her close. She chewed on her lip
while her heart pounded and she tried again to say what she wanted to say.
She had to listen to her heart now. “I’m ready.”
His eyes widened. “For…?”
“Yes.” She said it once and then she said it again, louder and stronger
this time. “Yes. I’m ready to make love with you.”
“Oh, darling.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the
bedroom. His eyes were so filled with warmth and longing that she wanted
to cry. It was crazy and strange and exciting all at once but she knew this
was right. This was exactly what she wanted. She’d promised herself that
the first time she had sex it would be with the husband she loved and
Carson was that man.
He undressed her slowly, taking his time to remove her clothes and
drop sweet kisses onto her skin. His touch was thrilling and she could feel
how damp she was but he took care not to touch her pussy. Soon she grew
impatient and she gently pushed him away. “Take your clothes off. I want to
see you and I want to feel you.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement. His clothes hit the floor
almost as soon as the words had left her mouth and then he was lying
stretched out on the bed beside her. She giggled and reached for his stiff
cock, enjoying the shape and feel of it in her hands. “Is this for me?” she
teased.
“Only for you,” he growled. He rolled over and onto her, positioning
himself above her before ducking his head and sucking on her nipple. She
gasped and gripped his shoulders. She could feel his cock pressing into her
stomach and she instinctively opened her legs wide.
“Not yet.” He kissed a trail of tiny kisses around each breast, stopping
at his leisure to suck each nipple in turn. She forced her hand in between
their two bodies to grab his cock, delighted to feel it pulse beneath her
touch. He groaned against her breast. With her other hand, she seized a
handful of the thick hair on the back of his head and forced him to come
back to her mouth. She tugged at his cock as he kissed her and he groaned
again. “What are you doing to me?”
“Fuck me,” she whispered, turning herself on with her own bold
request. “I want you to fuck me now.”
“Arial…” He kissed her once more before reaching down to rub his
thumb across her clit.
She gasped and involuntarily released his cock. The sensation was
exquisite and she did not want him to stop.
He lifted himself up, balancing on his hands and gazing down at her
while every inch of her skin cried out for more. “Are you sure? We can take
it slower if you want.”
She shook her head firmly. “I don’t want to go slow. I’ve waited for
so long as it is. I need to feel you inside me.” It was not something she’d
ever said before but the moment felt perfect. The sentiment felt perfect.
Carson was perfect.
He put his hand down and touched her again, teasing further ripples
of sensation from her nub and sending them coursing through her body in
waves. “I want to be inside you. There is nothing I want more than that.”
He kept his eyes on her face as he eased himself between her legs.
She felt herself tense but she told herself to relax. There was a push and a
sense of something giving way and then he was inside her. She winced as
she felt a brief pinch of pain and then it was gone. “Are you ok?” he
whispered.
“I’m ok. Don’t stop.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him as
he moved inside her. It felt… nice. She felt utterly connected to him,
warmed by his touch and by the look of love in his eyes.
“I don’t plan on stopping. Not ever. You’re truly mine now, Mrs.
DuMonde and that isn’t ever going to change.” He’d increased the strength
and rhythm of his thrusts while pressing his pelvis against her clit and she
gripped him harder as her body throbbed with pleasure.
“Oh my goodness,” she gasped. “I feel as if I’m falling.”
He grinned. “Let yourself go, darling. Fall as often as you like. I’ll be
right here to catch you every single time.”
The End
 I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this book as much
as I enjoyed writing it.
Please check out my website at
www.hotfromthepen.com for more of my books.
I am also on Bookbub, Instagram
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