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Lucas had the balls to laugh at his predicament. “Yeah, but does a rock star know over a hundred ways to kill with his bare hands? He’s the best I’ve got. What’s better than a ninja nanny?”

“I’m not sure that helps.”

“He’s been married nearly ten years. Besides that, he’s a professional. My guys don’t fuck around, or they don’t have a job.”

“That helps. Got any gardener ninjas or cooking ninjas? Maybe a hot-maid ninja? I could use some of those.”

Lucas rose. “I’ll see what I can do.” He headed for the door.

“One more thing.”

Lucas turned back. “Yeah?”

Cal came around the desk. “Will you stand up with me at my wedding?”

“Yeah, man.” Lucas held out his hand, and Cal shook it. “I’d be glad to.”

Cal clapped him on the back. “That means you’re in charge of the bachelor party. Make it good. And by good I mean poker and booze.”

“I thought for a minute you were going to say strippers.”

“Only if you’ve got a ninja stripper on your payroll.”

“I’ll look around for one.”

Cal showed his friend out, then went back to barely noticing the view outside his window. Lucy filled his thoughts. Those photos… Goddamn. He’d never get those images out of his head, the cuts, the bruises, the bite marks, and other damage he couldn’t tell how it had been caused. He scrubbed his hands over his face. She’d lived through hell and had somehow gotten away. She’d run to him when she had no one else.

He would do anything for her, but the thing she needed from him most was to be safe. In that, he wouldn’t let her down.

CHAPTER SIX

Lucy stared at her reflection in the dressing-room mirror, hardly recognizing herself. The hairstylist had rolled and twisted her hair into a half-up, half-tumbling-down style that was both chaste and scandalous. The makeup artist had done something to her skin that made it glow and had even managed to cover her scar so that both of her shoulders appeared smooth and flawless. The last thing she wanted today was a reminder of the damage her last marriage had done to both her body and heart. Kevin had been drunk when he’d burned her or else he’d never have left so permanent a mark.

Her silk wedding dress was also a contradiction with a strapless, sweetheart neckline, flowered belt, and A-line skirt. It left some parts exposed and others chastely covered. She felt…beautiful. For the first time in seventeen long months she wasn’t worried about repercussions for a skirt that was too short or for makeup that was too garish.

She hoped Cal liked the way she looked.

“Here.” Mi handed her the pearl earrings she’d given Lucy as a wedding gift. They perfectly matched the string of pearls Cal had gotten Lucy as his gift.

“Are you sure you want to marry him?” Mi asked. “You have other options, you know.”

No. She didn’t. She didn’t have any options, but she wasn’t about to confess this to Mi after keeping what Kevin had done to her a secret for so long. The shame of it was always there, always hovering over her. Speaking of it was more than she could face because if she said the words, the enormity of everything she’d been through would come crashing down over her.

“I know this is going to sound a little crazy,” Lucy said. “But I want to marry him.”

She did, she realized. The doubts were there, hovering in the background, ghosts from her previous marriage. She mentally flicked them away. Cal wasn’t Kevin. She knew this. She was doing the right thing for both her and Poppy.

“That does sound crazy. Are you very sure? You and Poppy deserve the best.”

“And you don’t think Cal is the best?”

“I don’t think Cal has a full grasp on what’s happening here. He’s about to become a husband and a father all on the same day. This isn’t a merger or acquisition, this is a family.”

“I know you don’t like him—”

“With good reason. He cheated on you. With his secretary. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. Are you sure you can trust him? Are you sure you want to?”

“Honestly? No. But this isn’t what it was before. We’re not involved that way. I’m walking into this with wider eyes. Every time I start to soften towards him, the image of him bending his honey over his desk pops up, and my heart hardens all over again. Besides, you and Lucas have enough changes to deal with without taking in a homeless friend and her daughter.” Lucy rubbed her friend’s gently swollen belly. “Are you going to tell me what you’re having, or are you and Lucas keeping it a secret?”

“It’s a boy.”

Lucy threw her hands up and hugged her friend. “I’m so thrilled for you. For both of you. But my Lord is that going to be a big baby. Lucas is such a big guy.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. And whatever you do, don’t remind Lucas. He’s freaking out about it.”

The wedding planner popped her head in the door. “Five minutes!” Then she popped back out again.

“Okay, this is it,” Lucy said. “How do I look?”

Tears appeared in Mi’s eyes. “Really beautiful. He’s a lucky man, even if he doesn’t know it.”

“Don’t cry. You’ll make me cry and my mascara will run.”

Mi dabbed at her eyes. “Let’s go get you hitched.”

*****

Lucy carried her daughter unescorted up the aisle to Cal. He stood so tall and straight in his black tuxedo under the wisteria-draped gazebo. Lucas stood to his left and Mi and the minister to his right. The way Cal stared at Lucy nearly stopped her in her tracks, then made her want to run up the aisle toward him. Her cheeks heated under his gaze. She almost forgot this wasn’t a real marriage. She needed to remember this was a business arrangement and nothing more.

And she could do that…when she wasn’t looking at him. If she glanced at Mi or the minister or stared just past Cal’s shoulder, she could remember that none of this was real. It was all for show. But then her gaze would be drawn to his and she’d be sucked into its tractor beam, imagining that this was the wedding she’d always wanted to the man she’d dreamed of with their future stretched out before them.

But it wasn’t.

She repeated after the minister. Listened while Cal pledged his life and love to her. Held out her hand for Cal to place the thin platinum band on her finger. Put her ring on Cal’s finger. Said “I do.” Heard Cal say it too. And then he lifted her veil. She stared up at him, and the panic hit her sideways. She struggled to keep her feet planted and not run back down the aisle. He leaned toward her, and she closed her eyes, going to that empty place in her head where no one and nothing could touch her.

He kissed her briefly and that was it. It was over, and he was holding her hand, leading her back down the aisle. She’d done it. She was married. All that was left was the party, and then she’d be alone with Cal. Her husband.

Accepting the well wishes of the guests was easy. She’d pasted on enough fake smiles as one of the faces of
Pleasure at Home
that it came automatically. Sam had taken Poppy, so she could carry out her duties as Mrs. Cal Sellers. Cal stood at her side, frequently touching her—on the small of her back, across her shoulders, around her waist—branding her as his.

She tried not to think about tonight even as their guests reminded her with good-natured winks and elbows to the side. Would Cal expect there to be a true wedding night, especially after creating the option agreement? Everything he’d said and done told her he wouldn’t, but he was a man. A man who went through women the way most went through socks.

She suddenly felt self-conscious, tugging at the top of her dress. What had she been thinking, wearing something so revealing? Even if the dress had made her feel more beautiful than she’d felt in months, maybe years.

The last guest passed through the receiving line, leaving Lucy alone with Cal.

“How about some champagne?” he asked.

Alcohol. “I’d love some.”

He took her hand and led her toward the head table set up at the front of the room. On the way, he snagged two flutes of champagne and handed one to her. She had to concentrate on not downing the entire glass at once. It had occurred to her more than once that if this wedding had taken place seventeen months ago, she would’ve been the happiest bride who ever wore Vera Wang. But now she stood beside her handsome husband surrounded by mostly strangers and wished that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. Or else that she could drown herself and her memories of her previous marriage in enough champagne that she’d be too sick to think about what came next.

Cal watched Lucy out of the corner of his eye. She was so pale her blue eyes were nearly black. And she gulped the hundred-dollar-a-bottle champagne like it was air and she was under water…drowning. When she drained it, he handed her a glass of water. She was not getting drunk tonight. She was going to be completely sober for their first night as husband and wife. To ensure that, he excused himself and gave a whispered order to the head waiter that his wife was to only be given alcohol-free beverages.

When he returned, Lucy gave him her stage smile, her gaze passing over him as though he was part of the scenery. He’d had just about enough of Lucy trying to endure what should’ve been a fun evening.

“You know what I think?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“I think we need to test out your swaying skills.”

“What?”

He held out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

She stared at it as if it would strike her, then slowly placed her hand in his. He drew her up and out onto the crowded dance floor. Holding her close, but not as close as he’d like, he danced with his wife for the first time. After a few moments her shoulders relaxed.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he whispered in her ear.

She shook her head.

“You are. Absolutely stunning. I don’t think there’s a set of eyes that hasn’t been on you since you came up the aisle.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’s true. You’re beautiful, darlin’. More beautiful than I deserve, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Thank you for marrying me.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “That was our deal.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful.” She didn’t respond so he pressed on. “I think we’re going to get along very well.” Still nothing. “You know if we swayed like this every day, we might end up trying some of those options.”

“Wouldn’t you like that.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d like it too. If memory serves, you especially liked number six. The first time we tried it you made this sound that reminded me of—”

She slapped his chest. “Ssh! Keep your voice down.”

“That’s exactly what I said the first time we tried it. We were in the bathroom at that bistro downtown that you were crazy about—”

“Cal Sellers, if you say another word…”

“You’ll what? Do number sixty-four to me? Cuz I might be into some of that with you, darlin’.”

“Have you memorized the entire agreement?” She sounded scandalized and kind of turned on too.

“Just my favorite numbers. Tell me about some of yours. What are your favorites?”

“This isn’t exactly—”

“This is our wedding, darlin’. And we’re slow dancing to our favorite song—”

“This isn’t my favorite song.”

“It wasn’t mine either until about two minutes ago when you started rubbing your body against mine and calling it ‘dancing’. Feels more like foreplay than dancing to me.”

“Cal!”

“Tell me your top ten favorite options on the option agreement and I’ll stop.”

“No.”

“Top eight.”

“No.”

“Five and I’ll throw in a glass of champagne.”

“Two glasses and a promise that you won’t smash the cake in my face.”

“You have a deal, darlin’.”

“Number two.” A pale pink blush crept up her chest to her neck, making him want to lick its path.

“The binding option. Good choice. Me or you?”

“You.”

“Also an excellent choice. Which others?”

“Seventeen.”

“
Really?
Now I wouldn’t’ve expected that from a woman dressed in virginal white, but who am I to argue?”

“Forty-nine, but I think one of those beds with the head and feet that go up and down would be essential in making it successful.”

“I agree.” Did she even realize how lovely she was, blushing like a nun watching a porno flick? Or how much he wanted to do every option she’d put into their agreement with her…for her?

“Sixty-three.”

He clenched his teeth from groaning out loud. Sixty-three had been one of the few suggestions he’d offered. “I can’t argue with you. One more.”

She was quiet for a long moment, her tongue sweeping once, twice across her bottom lip. This was the one. The one she really wanted to try. He could tell by the way her gaze darted away and the fact that she’d left it for last. That was his Lucy, always thinking of herself last.

“Thirty.”

He did groan then. “Jesus God almighty, darlin’, are you trying to make me embarrass myself right here in front of our friends and family?”

“You’d consider thirty?”

“Consider it? I’ve been dreaming of it practically all my adult life.” He was so looking up number thirty when they got back to the house. Whatever it was, he was going to figure out a way to do it better than anyone had ever done it before. She’d be talking about it to her friends for years to come as the end all be all of sexual fantasies fulfilled.

When they got that far. If they ever got that far. First he had to get her to stop looking at him like he’d turn on her at any moment.

“You’ve never done number thirty?”

“No. And please tell me you have, darlin’, so you can teach it to me and I won’t feel so inept.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to learn it together. Someday,” he added, so she wouldn’t think he had any plans for them other than this moment. “That’s five options, and I now owe you a glass of champagne. Shall we?” He held out his elbow for her to take and led her off the dance floor.

The rest of the night went by in a blur of obligatory socializing and wedding traditions. They danced twice more, but neither compared to their first dance as man and wife. Cal couldn’t wait to get Lucy out of there and all to himself. He’d booked the honeymoon suite at the Ritz-Carlton for their wedding night. He’d also arranged for Sam to take Poppy.

One night. He’d get one night to show her what marriage to him would really be like. One night.