She chewed her bottom lip. “We’ll have to find a way to play the marriage like it’s real. If she suspects anything, she won’t hesitate to call foul.”
“How exactly are we supposed to make this look real?” He turned to look at her rather than the stunning view. “I’m not thrilled about lying for you. Had I known that was part of the job description, I wouldn’t have taken the position.”
Kenzi closed her eyes against reality, not wanting to see the woman in the glass reflection; she didn’t like her much lately, and respecting her became increasingly difficult as the consequences for her actions piled up. Nash was a stand-up guy, as clean-cut as they come. If she hadn’t already been married to him and they’d met in a more normal way, she would have taken a second and possibly third look in his direction. “I know. Everything’s happening faster than I’d anticipated. I thought we’d have a couple weeks—a week at the least—to establish ourselves as a married couple.” She gulped. “I wanted you to meet my dad.”
“Did he …?”
“An hour ago.”
Nash cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up while you’re in the middle of …” He sighed heavily. “It sucks.”
She half laughed, half cried in the face of his honest sympathy, the noise sounding like a strangled bark. She was able to maintain her composure and keep the tears at bay, but only just. “It most definitely sucks.”
He gave her a sorry smile.
She stepped quickly toward the door that led to the bathroom so she could escape into her room for the night. “You’re welcome to change anything you’d like in here. Just put it on my household account.” Nash had a monthly stipend to do with as he pleased. BMB took the money out of her account and put it into Nash’s personal checking once a month. On top of that, he received a large payoff after he’d completed the contractual year of marriage and the divorce went through.
“Why would I do that? This is perfect.”
A genuine smile tugged at her reluctant cheeks. His approval of the bedroom she’d designed made her feel like she was enough in a way few words ever had. She met his gaze and held it for longer than was appropriate. She couldn’t seem to help herself; it was late, she was emotionally drained, and Nash was like an island of calm and strength in the middle of her life’s storm.
“I should go.” She took a tentative step toward her room.
“Um.”
“Yes?” She stopped, feeling all too eager to stay with him and hating that her eagerness came through in such a small word.
“I’m not sure where my suitcase ended up. I went out to the car earlier, but it had been moved.”
“Oh …” She looked around as if she would find it poking out from under the bed. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll send a text to the footman and have him bring it in first thing.”
He sighed and ran his hand down what was quickly becoming a five-a.m. shadow.
“You’re welcome to use anything you need.” She waved her hand behind her, wishing there was some way to lessen the discomfort pushing his shoulders forward and his eyebrows low. “There’s shampoo and soap in the shower already.”
He tugged at his shirt collar even though it was open, and she got the distinct impression that she’d pushed a level of intimacy with him too far too fast. How was she to know what was too far? It wasn’t like there were lines in the sand, and Pamela hadn’t given them a marriage manual. What they both needed was some time and space apart from one another.
She hurried to leave. “I’m sleeping in tomorrow, but you’re welcome to anything you can find in the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I may sleep late too.”
She ducked out just as quickly as she could, ready to fall into bed, though she no longer felt like sobbing herself to sleep. She changed quickly, choosing a pair of long slumber pants and a matching oversized tee. For a brief moment, she wondered what Nash would think of her pajamas. With a quick nip at the budding thought, she clicked off the light and fell into her pillows, intent on making her mind a blank slate and escaping into slumber as quickly as possible.
