On The Dotted Line (9 page)

Holy
Hell, she fed the dog from her mouth like a baby bird. He wasn’t sure if he was
disgusted or captivated.

His
mother pushed her plate away. One thing was certain. His marriage would be
amazing for his mother’s diet she always complained about.

“I
know. I thought when he didn’t’ come home last night he would be surprising us
with a formal engagement.” His mother reached for his father’s scotch.

“Well,
instead you got the whole thing taken care of at once.” Willow picked up a few
lettuce leaves, shoved them in her mouth and allowed the dog to lick her
fingers. “Well, as you can imagine I am exhausted from getting married and all,
so I’m going to head on up to bed and let you celebrate Dolph’s birthday. Nan
will need the kitchen in a bit.”

Without
any warning, Willow stood, causing his father and him to stand as well.

“Please
stay here with us, I’m sure there’s cake.” He winced.

“You
really have a thing for cake. Maybe you should have had a wedding.” She walked
around the table, handed the dog to Nan and without another glance at anyone in
the room, left.

He
caught Nan’s gaze from across the table. She lifted her eyebrows and then
turned her attention to her salad.

“Well,
we do have cake.” His mother pressed her palm to her cheek. “Perhaps we can
have one of the staff take your wife up a plate.”

“I’ll
do it.” Damn everything. He drank down the rest of his flavorless water. Willow
knew what she signed up for. They had a contract and she included a dog. Still,
he more than blindsided her, he sort of slapped her in the face.

The
house of Van Ayers was a lot like living in a fancy hotel. Since walking away
from the dinner gone wrong, various members of the staff had knocked. First
someone brought her dinner, a scrumptious chicken dish with some sort of rich
sauce she wanted to lick off the plate. The second person arrived with her
drink, or drinks, including wine, water with the homegrown lemon and a cup of
hot tea. Lastly, the famous cake. The dessert with its layers of chocolate and
strawberry was amazing. She wanted to shove her face in the plate, but even without
Mrs. Van Ayers to watch her manners, she took small bites, wiped her mouth with
the linen napkin and sat back politely.

After
someone came up and took her dishes, another person arrived and presented her
with an extra blanket and towels.

No
wonder Randolph nearly melted down over what he called substandard champagne
the night before. She was surprised one of their beloved staff didn’t pre-chew
his food for him.

Finally
alone, she took her time to study the suite. Their wing, as Randolph called it,
consisted of several rooms including an office for him, a couple of what
appeared to be guest rooms, and an extra bathroom. Even with all the space,
they still put Nan in her own suite of rooms in a different wing of the house.

Their
actual suite consisted of a bedroom area, a sitting area, the largest bathroom
she ever saw, and a closet bigger than most people’s apartments. In fact, the
closet boasted a chair and a couch and a full on changing area. While Randolph’s
clothes filled racks and racks, her scant few items only took up a few inches. All
the furniture appeared to be antique and everything was exceptionally neat, as
if no one truly lived here.

However,
more than anything, the art stood out. While the entire mansion contained
beautiful works, Randolph’s suite boasted incredible masterpieces. His taste skewed
more toward modern pop art with vibrant colors, including a set of paintings of
suited men and women behind desks in corporate jobs but done up as cartoon
characters, and a picture of nothing but multi-colored squares. No wonder he
hung around the gallery.

After
her explorations, she picked up her contract and attempted to seriously read
the pages. A few lines in, she opted to work on crocheting some squares for her
next afghan, and lost herself in the repetitive, calming task.

A
soft knock interrupted her.

“Come
in?” Unsure of the etiquette, she sat back and waited for the next staff
member.

Thus
far, every knock came with an announcement of what she was about to receive.

Instead,
the door opened and Randolph peeked his head inside.

She
ground her teeth together. Her alone time was officially over.

“I
brought you something.” He stepped inside with hand behind his back.

“You’re
giving me plenty.” She put her craft down and lifted the contract.

“Do
you have any questions about it?” He closed the door and held out his peace
offering in the form of a piece of cake.

“Should
I?” She fanned her face with the pages.

He
came forward and held the plate out.

“Your
staff was much quicker than you, but thanks.” It wasn’t lost on her that he
didn’t come running after her after she left. Their marriage was merely a
business deal, nothing more. The passion or whatever she felt before was nothing
but a much needed a release. She reminded herself to keep her distance and get
her job done. It didn’t matter if Stephanie was much more than a hired hand.

“Okay,
hopefully we can share it later.” He put the dish down on the side table,
reached behind his back again and offered her a single pink rose. “Maybe you’ll
accept this little token as my apology.”

“What
are you apologizing for?” She pressed her back into the overly stuffed chair.

He
took a seat on the ottoman in front of her. “I didn’t mean to blindside you
with Stephanie.”

Fine,
he used her word, surely the tactic of a businessman. Still, she wanted to see
his reasoning. “How so?”

“That
is not the way you should have found out about my past relationships. I know it
must be hard.” He reached forward and put his hand on her knee. “I assure you
it’s completely over.”

She
crossed her legs forcing Randolph’s hand off her, but stayed silent.

“I
don’t want you to think I would ever cheat on you.” His voice lowered.

“Randolph,
I need to ask you something.”

“It
was over before I ever thought of marrying you.” Again, he held the rose out to
her.

“Okay,
that wasn’t my question.” She glanced at the flower but didn’t accept the token
of affection which represented a different kind of relationship.

“Ask
me anything.” He placed the flower on the arm of the chair, taking a moment to
balance the blossom before sitting back.

“Let’s
say you didn’t have to get married and you weren’t with anyone, would you have
asked me out on a date?” Whether she would have accepted the date was another
question, but she needed the answer.

His
face went blank. No smile, no frown, nothing. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s
simple.” She tilted her head. “Would you or would you have not asked me out? Would
you have seen me and thought, that is the girl I want to take to dinner, kiss
goodnight, make love to?”

A
slow smile crept on his face. “I think you are beautiful and we are married and
I would love to make love to you again. Last night was nothing short of
spectacular. More than I could have ever dreamed of.” He extended one finger
and traced her kneecap.

At
his touch shivers consumed her. Unfortunately, she was privy to what the man
could do with those fingers, his tongue, and his body. Deep down she knew if he
had ever been nice to her she would have accepted a date with him and kicked
herself later. She slapped his hand away like an unwanted fly. “When you
dreamed, did you dream of me?”

Once
more his face went blank. “We’re married.”

“I
signed a contract as did you,” she corrected.

“You
were upset, but I want you to know Stephanie is over. My mother made it seem
like more than it was.”

“Randolph,
let me make something perfectly clear.”

He
continued staring at her.

“I
could care less about your past relationships, who you loved, who you didn’t.”

“I
didn’t love her.” He held up his hand.

“It
doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “What matters is when you enter into a
business agreement with someone there needs to be full disclosure, something
you did not give me and therefore you made me look like a fool. That’s something
I will not tolerate again.”

“I
don’t want to hurt you. I told you, it’s over.”

“You
can’t hurt me because we are only connected by a contract.” She flicked the
papers. “Don’t think I don’t know it’s completely over, and you will stick by
your fidelity clause if you end up with red, raw palms before this year is out.
For a man to fight as long and hard as you did and almost lose, I have no doubt
it’s over, and I have no doubt you won’t cheat on our fictional relationship.”

“Willow.”
He ran his hand through his hair.

She
almost smiled when his curls bounced right back into position as if they were
trained. Instead, she handed him back the rose.

“Anyone
ever tell you that you would have made a great negotiator?” He took the flower,
put it aside and rubbed his neck.

“Maybe.”
For the most part they called her stubborn, but she would never admit it. “Why
don’t you go take a hot shower for your neck?”

“Incredible.”
He tilted his head toward the cake. “Would you like a few bites?”

“No,
I think I’m going to go say goodnight to Nan.” She got up.

Like
every time she stood, he did as well. “Remember, we’re still married and we
share a bed.”

“It’s
all right here.” She pressed the contract into his chest. “You better hide that
before it’s discovered.” They made a mockery of a sacred pact, turned it into a
business deal, but even on the first day emotions came into play. She didn’t
know how they would fix their mess in a year. Maybe there would be cake.

* * * *

Bed.

Randolph
stared at his four-poster mahogany bed.

Up
until the moment he brought his new wife to his family home, his bed was his
biggest nemesis. He narrowed his eyes at the seemingly benign piece of
furniture. Most would call it a place of rest and comfort. He called it a
nightmare where the moment he laid down every thought entered his mind,
taunting him awake. With Willow’s words still fresh in his mind, he didn’t see
any dreams of her or otherwise happening any time soon. On a night like tonight
he wouldn’t have even tried, he would have left and let loose some of his pent
up energy in a more creative way than having sex.

The
bathroom door opened and the jingle bell of one pampered pet’s collar and the
light humming of his spouse interrupted his glaring.

“It’s
11:45, we made it.” In a long flowing light blue nightgown Willow seemed to
float around the room they would share for the next 364 days. “Are you going to
get in bed?”

“Ladies
first.” He motioned toward the oversized deceptive mound of feathers and
stuffing inviting his wife into his bed to sleep.

“Big,
beautiful boys first.” Willow raised her voice as if she were talking to a
baby, bent down and plopped the living powder puff up on his sleeping area.

“The
dog can’t sleep in the bed.” He had never seen a dog that looked like Jeb. Unlike
the name which should be given to a big, burly animal, Willow’s pet weighed at
most four pounds and he was convinced most of the weight was from a copious
amount of white fur. If his mother caught the animal on her million thread
count sheets, she might faint. Suddenly, he wanted the dog in the bed. “Doesn’t
he sleep in Nan’s room?”

“Jeb
and I are a set.” She crossed her arms. “We sleep in the same place.”

They
both stopped and watched as the fluffy thing walked around practically sinking
into the comforter. The animal went around in a circle, once, twice, a third
and a fourth time and at last, curled up basically blending into the bedding.

He
supposed aside from every other item that entered his mind as soon as he
entered the bed, he could add fear of killing an almost canine to the list. One
wrong turn and they would have a dead dog. “Is he comfortable? Does he need
anything else, perhaps a silk pillow?”

“He’s
low maintenance.” She pulled back the blankets and slipped between the sheets.

“I
don’t know why I don’t believe you.” He took his side of the bed and stared up
at the ceiling.

“Did
you ever have a pet?” She leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer.

Not
sure what she could have put there he glanced over to find her with one of her salve
bottles. At least she used her own product. “No, I never had a pet.”

“That’s
really a shame.” She opened the bottle, poured some lotion into her hand and
rubbed it into her arms.

The
scent of roses and lavender filled the air and he caught himself staring at
her. “Why is it a shame?”

“A
pet is its own kind of love. It is also good for balance and calms the spirit.”
She moved to her other arm. “If you had a pet what kind of pet would you have
wanted?”

Well,
at least she was speaking to him, but the conversation had no depth or emotion.
He might as well tell her what he did on his summer vacation. “I don’t know. I
suppose you can’t say I don’t have a pet anymore.” He lifted his head to ensure
his pet remained as far away from him as possible.

“Just
like the ring and the house, Nan and the pet are only on loan.” She laughed and
ran her hands down her neck to her chest.

“I
need to go to the office tomorrow.” It wasn’t lost on him that her things were
alive. “Should I turn off the light?”

“If
you like.”

Right
as he went to lean over, she snaked her leg out from under the comforter to
apply her lotion. Her nightgown rode all the way up to her upper thigh and he
knew his wife didn’t wear anything else under her pajamas.

He
froze and took some time to take in the graceful curves only a woman possessed.
Only last night he sampled all the goodness she displayed. Maybe she wasn’t his
usual type, but she was a beauty. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask her out,
he simply never thought about the possibility. Though his mind was spent, his
body could use a little relief. “Willow?”

She
tended to her other leg. “I thought you were going to turn off the light.”

“Do
you like the light on or off?” His mouth watering at how her hands ran over skin,
he turned on his side toward her. Maybe she said those things before because
she wanted him to ask her out. Well, he gave her the whole package. He put a
ring on it, literally. The woman might say it was only a contract, but it was
what went unsaid that really spoke volumes.