My vision blurred.This was it.This was the moment when everyone would know I didn't belong in Nash's world.When they'd see me for exactly what I was: a desperate woman with nothing to show for herself except some money by way of her wealthy husband.
"Clara."Nash gently took his phone back, forcing me to look at him."This doesn't matter.None of this matters."
"It's all true," I whispered."Everything she wrote."
"So what?You worked hard.You survived.You took care of your daughter.There's nothing to be ashamed of."
"The comments—"
"Are from people who don't matter."His hand cupped my face."They don’t know you.I know you.And nothing in that article changes how I feel about—" He stopped abruptly, his jaw tightening as he glanced toward Trojan in the front seat."About what we're doing."
What we’re doing.Code forthis marriage of convenience.
I nodded, trying to pull myself together.The photos were out there.The story was public.There was no going back.
This was my first big media test, and I’d survive it.But as Nash gazed down at me, concern and tenderness on his face, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the bigger test.
Making it through this marriage with my heart in one piece.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NASH
NASH
The drive down Highway 1 in California was something out of a dream.
To my right, Clara sat with her face pressed nearly against the window, gasping every time we rounded another curve that revealed more of the dramatic Pacific Ocean coastline with cliffs dropping hundreds of feet.In the backseat, Mia was equally entranced, squealing whenever her mommy did, like the cutest little echo.
"Just look at the color of that water!”Clara exclaimed.“And the cypress trees are growing out of therocks.”
"Trees pretty!”Mia agreed.
I glanced over, but I was more interested in watching her face light up than looking at the Big Sur scenery.We'd been on the road for a half hour since leaving the Monterey airport, and she hadn't stopped marveling at every vista, every wildflower, every glimpse of untamed nature.
"I can’t tell what’s more exciting for you,” I mused."The private jet or that tree.”
She laughed, swatting me on the arm.But she paused, considering the question.“The plane was cool, but trees growing out of rock is next level.”
“I knew you’d say that,” I said as I shifted the gears of the rental BMW.This honeymoon scratched a lot of itches beyond escaping the tension of recent work drama.I liked open roads and stick shift.A lot.Clara’s gaze drifted down to my forearm after I’d shifted.
“Sorry, what did you say?”she asked, gaze stuck on my forearm.
It was nice to be ogled by my wife.My wife.I still couldn’t believe it.
“I think the question was how long you’ve been a fan of a man who drives stick shift.”I couldn’t fight the grin, downshifting so that I could glimpse those hooded eyes again.
“Why do you make it look so sexy?”she asked quietly.
“I’m just driving.”
She shook her head, looking back out the window.“I can’t focus on that.There’s too much out here to look at right now.You’re going to need to put your forearms away.”
“I’ll store them in the trunk if that’s better for you,” I said.
“Please.”
“Okay, at the next rest stop,” I teased, revving the car.
