I sipped a cup of tea, watching the snow fall and the car continue to idle, wondering what was going through his head right now. Whether he was going through the same myriad of emotions I was.
Somehow, I sincerely doubted it.
When my mom had told me that Douglas Westwood had offered one of his sons in marriage in exchange for the two board seats I was entitled to upon my own marriage, I think I went blind. Everything had gotten hazy and dark, and when I’d come to, I’d still been standing there, watching her excitedly explain why this was the answer to all our problems.
How Douglas had found out about those seats, I would probably never know, but it was a good guess Mom had come right out and told him. She might not have had much time or respect for them back in the day, but we were living in a very different time now.
Back when it’d been time for the board to appoint a new CEO, either me or Andrew, Mom, Colin, and I had pored over every Thayer document we’d been able to get our hands on. If it hadn’t been in one of the boxes the authorities had carried out like ants stocking up on paper to feed on for a decade of winters, we’d read through it.
Mom had been desperate to find a way to use her votes to appoint me, but it had been useless. Without the support of the board, we just hadn’t been able to gain the majority.
Now, however, wewouldhave that majority vote, allowing me to finally step in and take over. Although the part that had made Mom even more excited had been, “The Westwood money would start funneling into our accounts immediately. This is perfect, Jane. It saves us all.”
“Who?” I vaguely remembered asking, and that was all I’d said during the entire conversation, because my future had been decided and I knew it.
Arranged marriages were rare in our family but not unheard of. We still had deep marriage traditions though, even if it wasn’t necessarily all about arrangements. The most important of those traditions, of course, was marrying for the benefit of the family estate at large.
Rejecting this offer would effectively seal my family’s fate—and definitely would not benefit us. Sliding a ring on my finger and filing joint taxes with a man I barely knew, but badly wanted to hate even though I didn’t have any reason to?
Do I even have boundaries to cross anymore?I almost snorted out loud at the thought.No, I don’t think I do.
As I refocused on the window, I realized the car had turned off. The lights weren’t on anymore and the steam that had been coming from the exhaust was gone.
I didn’t move from my perch in the foyer as I watched Alex walk up the snowy steps, looking just as worn and conflicted as I was, which made me feel a little better.
If he’d seemed all smug and cocky about it, I didn’t know how I would’ve been able to go through with it, but he didn’t want this just as much as I didn’t want it. Somehow, his suffering made the pill a little easier to swallow. At least we would be suffering together.
I lifted my chin, trying to breathe through the realization that if this happened—and it was probably going to—I would be hiswifesoon. That man out there with the snow lightly dusting his rich brown hair and the shoulders of his gray, wool coat was going to be myhusband.
On the other hand, it was just a marriage. The Westwoods were known for their unorthodox arrangements in that arena. This shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise to him. That family was obsessively protective of their wealth, their legacy, and their traditions.
Although, after what had happened to our family just because my father had royally fucked up, maybe arranged marriages weren’t such a crazy idea after all. They still had their wealth, their legacy, and their traditions. We had a brownstone, social anxiety, and a weekly food budget.
Alex’s breath came out in puffs of white mist. He knocked on the door, then eased back on his heels and slid his hands into his pockets as he waited. Part of me wanted to leave him out there for a little while, at least make him work for it that much, but when I saw a visible shiver run through him, I remembered how he’d stopped when I’d been freezing on the sidewalk and I reluctantly rose.
My feet felt like they’d been encased in concrete on my way to the front door, the death march from Star Wars playing through my mind like a bad joke. I closed my fingers around the doorknob, unable to remember how to turn it for a moment, but once I did, I let the door swing open and found myself facing my future husband for the very first time since we’d both found out we were betrothed.
Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve been flung back in time to nineteenth century England?
For a long minute, neither of us said anything. We just stared at each other, those piercing green eyes so intense today that they almost stole my breath, but then I steeled myself, opening the door wide enough for him to pass through.
“Come on in,” I said quietly. “It’s freaking freezing outside today.”
“Thanks.” He brushed past me neatly, without touching any part of me at all, and yet, I was so aware of his sudden proximity and the scent of him that I nearly fainted. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
Has his voice always been that gentle? That gravelly?Twenty-four hours ago, I’d been sure that I’d heard his voice echo through my mind so often, I would have been able to pick it out of a lineup blindfolded, but it seemed so different now that it was almost unfamiliar.
I glanced at him, noticing the knot at the back of his jaw as he waited for my answer. “Sure. Follow me.”
Spinning on my heels and trying not to be embarrassed by the fact that I was wearing fluffy slippers, I led him upstairs to my bedroom. After waving him in ahead of me, I shut the door behind us and leaned against it, the space suddenly seeming so much smaller with him in it.
He really did have a larger than life presence.What did Colin call it? Oh. Right. That I-can-run-a-small-country energy. Yeah. He’s definitely got that.
At first, Alex made a visible, concerted effort not to look around. He kept his coat on and his hands in his pockets, just standing between my bed and the dresser like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, but then being in my space seemed to get the better of him and those green eyes finally broke away from mine to dart around the room.
I watched him carefully, curious about how he’d react and what he’d do. Somehow, though, Alex always managed to surprise me.
Instead of a mocking smirk about me still living in my childhood bedroom or the girly, floral comforter, a faint, but almost fond smile ghosted across his lips and he drifted to my bookshelf. Silently, he picked up a few books and slid his thumb across the well-used spines. He examined a few knickknacks I’d picked up on my travels before my world had imploded, then gently put it all back down again in precisely the places where he’d found them.
