Marrying the Enemy (10 page)

That tough guys didn’t break down alongside their mothers when their fathers were sentenced to prison?

That tough guys emotionally closed off deliberately to prevent the inevitable pain of trusting when the mums they adored absconded without saying goodbye and didn’t contact them for ten freaking years?

No, he couldn’t say any of those things, so he settled for flippant.

‘Because tough guys always get the girl,’ he said, kissing her to prove it.

And he kept kissing her, through another round of tantric, sensational sex, until they both forgot talking and questions and everything but the unslakable thirst for more.

CHAPTER TEN

R
UBY
set down her pliers, pushed her loupe up and inspected the completed bracelet with a critical eye.

Twisted white gold with ruby and diamond inlays, the bracelet caught the light as she hooked it on her finger and turned it around slowly.

Flawless. Classic. Elegant. Her signature, and she sighed with contentment, rolling her neck from side to side to unkink the knots.

‘Want a massage?’

She jumped as Jax snuck up on her and placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading gently.

‘No, thanks, I’ve got too much work.’ He pressed into her sore spots and she moaned, making a mockery of her refusal. ‘Yeah, right there.’

Her head fell forward as he worked his thumbs into the tight pressure points, relieving her tension.

‘I thought I was a workaholic.’

‘Why, what’s the time?’

‘Midnight.’

She bit back the urge to beg as he stopped and swivelled to face him. ‘When I’m in the zone I lose track of time.’

He nodded at the bracelet. ‘That’s what you were working on?’

‘Yeah.’

He picked it up gently, the bracelet looking ridiculously tiny in the palm of his hand. ‘You’re very talented.’

‘I know.’

‘Modest too.’ He smiled, something he’d done a lot more of since they’d arrived back in Melbourne two days ago. The momentous day she’d given him a key on the proviso he only dropped by when invited.

So far, she’d resisted picking up the phone for a whole thirty-six hours, capitulating a few hours ago when she’d been pacing the showroom, unable to concentrate on work, unable to concentrate on anything bar trying to forget how addictive the sex was with her new husband.

Their wedding night—technically morning after—had been stupendous and she’d deliberately kept him at arm’s length since. No point getting hooked on something when it wasn’t long term.

‘What’s next?’

‘My favourite.’ She slid out a black velvet pouch and tipped the contents into her palm. ‘Pink diamonds.’

‘Rarest diamond in the world.’

She nodded, her breath hitching as he reached out a fingertip to touch them, grazing her palm in the process. The little zap of electricity shouldn’t surprise her, not after what they’d done in and out of the bedroom that morning at the B&B, but it did, the newness of their sexual compatibility a source of delight.

‘I’ve got a series of rings planned. Engagement and eternity.’

His eyes clouded. ‘Speaking of which, you really need to wear one—’

‘I don’t.’ She curled her fingers over the diamonds and funnelled them back into the velvet pouch. ‘If people ask I’ll say you’re having one commissioned.’

His lips thinned with disappointment she didn’t understand. Why would he want to brand her his so possessively when this marriage wouldn’t last?

Rings were for gooey-eyed, blushing brides, not realistic, practical ones. Last thing she wanted to do was wear a fancy engagement ring when she’d be taking it off soon. It was hard enough just wearing the plain gold band for appearances.

‘Why won’t you wear one?’

How could she explain without sounding like a romantic fool?

She’d always envisaged designing her own engagement ring, something spectacular, an exquisitely cut pink diamond flawless in its perfection.

She’d wanted it to be incredibly romantic, wanted the man of her dreams to go to any lengths to make her happy.

Despite their sexual compatibility and mutual business deal, Jax Maroney wasn’t that man.

‘Because when a guy slides an engagement ring onto this finger I want it to mean something.’

She wiggled the ring finger on her left hand and he recoiled as if she’d slapped him.

Ignoring the hurt at inflicting unnecessary pain, she shrugged. ‘Don’t ask if you don’t want the truth.’

‘I always prefer the truth,’ he said, his tone low and ominous. ‘So here’s a healthy dose of it. I need people to believe this marriage is real and if you think for one second they’d think the best jeweller in town wouldn’t wear an engagement ring, you’re dreaming.’

He picked up her left hand and rubbed his thumb over the shiny new gold band. ‘I’ve kept my part of the deal and stopped undercutting Seaborn Mine prices. Now it’s your turn to keep yours.’

She ignored the sliver of heat working its way from her finger and up her arm. This wasn’t the time to get turned on. This was the time to make a stand against a man used to getting his own way. Though she wouldn’t mind if he bossed her around in the bedroom...

She eased her hand out of his, relieved yet disappointed when he let her go.

‘You’ll have your grand entrance into society at the end of this week with our reception. What more do you want?’

For a long, insane moment, she wished he’d say ‘you’.

He had that effect on her. In a short space of time, and though she barely knew him, he’d wormed his way under her skin.

Like a prickly burr.

His hand twitched, as if he were reaching for her again, before it remained by his side.

‘I want to take my business places it has never been and your cronies can give me that. So go ahead, set up your social shindigs, but you better make our marriage look convincing because if there’s one thing I do know it’s those parasites watch every step you take.’

His bitterness chilled her. She should leave it alone, his obvious distaste against people who’d shunned him because of his dad. But the bleakness in his eyes cut through her curiosity and called to her on some deeper level.

‘How bad was it? When your dad went to prison?’

He stiffened, his face a practised mask of impassivity. Nothing moved, bar the pulse at the base of his throat, the sensitive spot she’d discovered during their marathon session at the B&B.

‘Bad enough.’

Two words devoid of emotion but fraught with unspoken need for approval.

‘Want to talk about it?’

Her fingertips brushed his and he jerked back, sending her short-lived hopes for some kind of connection beyond the physical plummeting.

‘No.’

He spun on his heel and headed for the door, where he paused to fix her with a frigid glare.

‘Don’t try to get too close to me. I’ve already told you I’m not that kind of guy.’

As she watched his fast-retreating back, for some inexplicable reason, she wished he were.

* * *

When the elite of Melbourne threw a function, they headed to the Palladium at Crown Casino. Ruby had been to many balls there so it seemed fitting for a grand wedding reception.

People would be shocked by her secret wedding so she wanted to go the whole way and stun the blinkers off them. A hard task but one she was willing to try.

Jax hadn’t bugged her for details. In fact, he’d barely spoken to her all week since she’d made the mistake of trying to bond with him on a deeper level.

He’d pulled all-nighters at work, refusing her one-off offer for supper, and to her annoyance she’d missed him.

Impossible, when she barely knew him. Though he’d only used the key she’d given him once, the night he’d backtracked, a small part of her kept hoping he’d ignore her stipulation and drop by unannounced.

How could one infuriating, obnoxious hotshot inveigle his way into her life in such a short space of time?

She’d kept busy, designing settings for her precious pink diamonds and organising the party of the year. Due to the lateness, every invitation had been delivered express post with strict RSVP instructions of one day.

Opal had been a trooper handling those while Ruby perpetuated the mystique, ignoring phone calls from curious acquaintances, deliberately hiding away in the workshop or apartment if they dropped by.

Thankfully, her circle didn’t need an excuse to party and they’d lapped up the mystery, attending in droves tonight.

She had a feeling that the moment she unveiled the reason for the party—or walked in on his arm, more to the point—they’d be abuzz for weeks.

In a way, Jax got the easy end of this deal, a behind-the-scenes move easily made. She had the monumentally tough job of publicly convincing people he was the love of her life.

What had she been thinking?

Her gaze fell on the delicate pearl and white gold bracelet clasping her wrist and she knew.

She’d been thinking about Sapphie, about Seaborn’s, about her mum and about herself being able to create many more gorgeous pieces like this one.

She could do this.

She had to.

If she failed and Jax walked away, taking his precious deal with him... No, didn’t bear contemplating.

‘Ready to head down?’

Jax stepped from the penthouse villa’s bathroom and her heart skittered, slid and landed with an embarrassing thud against her chest wall.

One word sprung to mind as she stared at her husband.
Divine.

He’d slicked back his hair, bringing those mesmerising dark eyes into focus, the crisp whiteness of the dress shirt beneath his tux accentuating his tan.

When he strutted into that ballroom in a few minutes, he’d have half the room convinced of his pedigree: the female half.

‘Sure, let’s do this,’ she said, smoothing down her indigo satin floor-length Grecian dress, hoping her palms wouldn’t leave streaks.

Yeah, she was sweating that much.

He stalked across the room towards her, the Melbourne skyline glittering in the background through the floor-to-ceiling windows. But the sparkle of city lights and the sky-high view couldn’t detract from the beauty of her husband pausing to snap a rose from a bunch in a vase and hand it to her with a flourish.

‘Nice move.’

She raised it to her nose and inhaled, the sweet smell reminiscent of the damask rose perfume her mum had favoured.

That was when the enormity of what she was doing hit. She’d be lying to her mum’s friends, people who’d respected and revered her, people who trusted her to live up to her mum’s memory.

Oh, hell.

‘Hey.’ He tipped her chin up with a fingertip and she blinked before the tears burning the backs of her eyes could fall. ‘I saw that in a movie once, and thought you’d go for that sort of thing, not cry over it.’

‘Why would I go for it? Because I have ovaries?’

He winced like a typical guy at the mention of women’s bits. ‘Because I think you’re a closet romantic.’

The great thing about his sweeping assumptions, they’d distracted her from the urge to bawl.

‘Why’d you think that?’

He released her chin and stepped back, waving at her gown. ‘You like fancy clothes and fancy jewellery.’

He tapped the side of his nose, the first time she’d seen mischief in his eyes. ‘And I’ve seen your stash.’

‘Of?’

‘Chick-flick DVDs.’ He held his hand over his head. ‘This high.’

‘When?’

‘That first night you invited me up to your apartment? You were too busy flaying me alive to notice I was doing reconnaissance.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘James Bond, eat your heart out.’

He chuckled. ‘Hey, I’m not the one who can sit through that lot of sappy nonsense. You must be a romantic.’

She laughed and it relieved the tension, the sadness draining out of her.

Sapphie had promised Mum to keep the company alive.

Mum was gone.

She would’ve understood Ruby perpetuating a marriage myth for the greater good.

She snapped her fingers. ‘Ah, so that’s what you’ve been doing at the office every night.’

Confused, he raised an eyebrow.

She jabbed a finger at his chest. ‘You’ve been working your way through my collection via Netflix. Let me guess, your favourite’s the one where they meet online and hook up—’

‘Marriage hasn’t changed my opinion.’ He snagged her hand and yanked her flush against him. ‘You still talk too much.’

He stifled any further protests she might have been contemplating by crushing his mouth to hers and kissing her until she forgot where she was, who she was or why she was here.

Several minutes later, with his bow tie askew and the satin bow on one of her shoulders under serious threat of unravelling, they broke apart. Chests heaving, breathing ragged, bodies straining.

She touched a hand to her mouth and her ruined lipstick. ‘People are waiting downstairs.’

‘Screw them.’

He backed her up against the door, slid a hand under her skirt and proceeded to do the same to her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

J
AX
froze on the threshold of the Palladium.

Clammy fingers of foreboding strummed the back of his neck.

Ice trickled through his veins.

Indecision, potent and savage, strangled his resolve to stride into the ballroom and make people stand up and notice Jax Maroney was back and there wasn’t one damn thing they could do about it.

Well and good to have resolve, but acting on it with hundreds of curious, judgemental eyes locked on him? Tougher than he’d expected.

‘You’ll be fine.’ Ruby squeezed his hand, sensing his wavering, her intuition scaring him as much as the crowd.

No matter how many times he pushed her away, no matter how hard he tried to keep his distance, he kept coming back for more, drawn to her in a way that defied explanation.

He didn’t want to get close to her. Didn’t want to see the admiration in her eyes when he’d walked out of the bathroom earlier, didn’t want to see the tears when he’d given her the rose on an impulse, didn’t want her asking probing questions or being sensitive or trying to understand him.

He didn’t want to
feel
.

Anything.

Why couldn’t she leave him alone? Why did she have to keep digging, chipping away at his defences like a fanatical miner intent on finding gold?

When he didn’t speak, the corners of her mouth pinched with worry.

‘What’s wrong?’

Everything,
he wanted to yell.

You, these people, my lousy dad, my sneaky mum, marrying you.

Everything was wrong but he’d suck it up, as he’d done before during the tough times in his life, and get on with it.

‘Nothing.’ He squared his shoulders, gripped her hand tighter. ‘Let’s give the performance of our lives.’

And they did. For the next few hours, he forced polite smiles, shook hands and waxed lyrical about everything from garden parties to the Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival.

People who’d shunned him years earlier and who’d avoided him at the Seaborn launch put on their game face and pretended to like him.

All for the sake of the stoic woman by his side.

Ruby didn’t leave him for a second, holding his hand through every introduction. She didn’t allow a lull in the conversation. She charmed her way around intrusive questions, distracting people with her natural vivacity. She deflected potentially disastrous comments with a sunny smile and quick wit that made people laugh rather than bristle.

Simply, she slayed the crowd.

And him.

The sex they’d had before coming down had been designed to distract and might have taken the edge off his perpetual hunger for her, but watching her smile and squeeze his hand or slide an arm around his waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world made him believe in the fairy tale too.

As they waltzed to ‘The Way You Look Tonight’, her tantalising body pressed close, he almost forgot why they’d married in the first place.

‘You’re awfully tense still,’ she murmured, resting her hand against his chest, directly over his impermeable heart.

‘Wouldn’t you be, surrounded by piranhas waiting for you to falter?’

‘Not really.’ She patted his chest and he could’ve sworn his heart squirmed beneath her touch. ‘I don’t buy into all this phoney nonsense. Never have.’

‘That’s because you’ve grown up surrounded by it and they accept you for who you are.’

She didn’t break step as he waltzed her around the floor, easing back to look him in the eye.

‘Maybe if you lightened up, people wouldn’t be so intimidated by you?’

What did she mean by that? Melbourne’s elite avoided him for one reason and one reason only: his shoddy pedigree. What did they expect—he’d pinch their millions as Denver had?

‘I’ve schmoozed tonight.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, with a glint of menace and the hint of a glower.’ Her fingertip traced a line across his forehead. ‘Right here.’

‘Tough. What they see is what they get.’

He turned his head slightly to the left, bringing the base of her wrist in tantalising contact with his lips. Her breath hitched as he kissed the tender skin there, his tongue tracing slow circles against her pulse point. It had been her undoing that morning they’d woken in the same bed at the B&B, and had the same effect on her now. Her skin tingled. Her muscles slackened. Her legs wanted to fall open.

‘Hey, you two, get a room.’

Otto Smit, a long-term Seaborn family friend and Sapphire’s occasional date for social engagements, according to Ruby, sidled up to them. Jax had met him earlier and, while the guy seemed nice enough, he knew he had been sizing him up all evening.

Ruby waved him away. ‘Buzz off, squirt.’

Otto feigned outrage. ‘Squirt? I’m taller than you, pipsqueak.’

‘Maybe I’m not talking about height—’

Jax stifled a chuckle as Otto puffed up in fake outrage before turning to him.

‘Hope you don’t mind, I’m cutting in for a dance with your beautiful bride.’

Jax’s hold on Ruby tightened. For no sane reason he could muster, he didn’t want to let her go even for a second.

However, he had no choice without appearing churlish.

He released her.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve trodden on Otto’s toes too many times to count, in the past. He won’t last longer than two minutes dancing with me.’ She smiled at him and his chest constricted.

‘Take your time,’ he said, his jealousy-tinged-with-
possessiveness aggravating him more than the sight of Otto’s hand resting in the small of Ruby’s back.

Maybe he was overtired, keeping up this pretence? Maybe faking interest in these phoneys was getting to him? Maybe he was foolish enough to buy into his own PR: that this marriage was real and Ruby meant more to him than a means to an end?

Whatever the reason, he felt strangely disoriented, as if his world were spinning slowly but surely out of control.

He edged through the dancing crowd and headed for the main doors. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid.

Like telling his wife this marriage was fast becoming more than one written on paper.

* * *

Ruby watched Jax leave the ballroom, head down, long legs striding, as if he couldn’t wait to escape.

She knew the feeling.

Every second of this evening had been excruciatingly painful.

Sapphie was the company spokesperson for a reason. She could work a room like a pro.

Sucking up to a bunch of air-kissing schmucks didn’t sit well with Ruby but she’d done it.

For Jax.

Sadly, the more time she spent with her errant husband, the more she came to realise she’d probably do this and more for him.

His rigid, immovable act was getting to her.

She wanted to delve beneath his tough-guy exterior, wanted to discover why he was closed off to anything but the superficial.

She couldn’t figure out how they connected so well physically yet he remained distant emotionally. If she asked him, he’d say it was just sex, but he’d be lying.

You couldn’t have the kind of connection they had without feeling
something
.

What she didn’t understand was how he could hold this much power over her when they’d barely seen each other?

They’d had sex a grand total of two times. Well, technically it had been five times on their wedding morning and four in the suite here since they’d checked in early this afternoon.

That old cliché about the quality not the quantity being important? She could totally relate.

They might not be spending as much time together as newlyweds would but the time they were together? Wow. Combustion.

So how could she let one stubborn, annoying, recalcitrant guy worm his way into her heart?

It wasn’t love. She’d fallen in love before, that heady, breathless, tummy-tumbling madness that possessed her on occasion. Nothing heavy, nothing intense, a brief euphoric feeling that faded fast; falling in love as opposed to being in love.

With Jax, she had none of those symptoms. Uh-uh, with Jax, it went deeper, to a part of her that craved him on some innate level she hadn’t known existed before him.

He tapped into a wildness within her, a yearning to be whoever she wanted to be without the constraints of living up to Sapphie’s promise to their mother, the expectations of her company and the responsibilities thrust upon her by her sister.

She’d bet he’d been a bad boy in his younger days. He had that look, of barely restrained power on a tight leash.

‘Something tells me that dreamy look in your eyes isn’t for my dancing prowess.’

She missed a step and trod on Otto’s toes. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’ He swung her around to miss a nearby couple. ‘Would be nice to have a hot chick look that way about me.’

‘Sapphie’s a hot chick.’

An uncharacteristic frown creased Otto’s brow. She’d never seen the guy anything but upbeat. ‘We both know Sapphie sees me as a friend, a convenience. Someone she can trot out when she needs to.’

Ouch.

She patted his shoulder. ‘We’ve practically grown up together. You can’t blame her for relying on you.’

‘I don’t. I just wish...’

Uh-oh. Ruby had no intention of playing go-between for Otto and Sapphie. She’d asked her sister once if there was more than friendship between them, and Sapphie had laughed. Something she could never tell Otto.

‘How’s Sapphie, by the way?’

Glad he’d moved away from the touchy subject of his unrequited love for her sister, Ruby perked up. ‘Great. Getting better every day.’

Rather than Otto’s frown clearing as expected, it deepened. ‘People have been talking.’

Ruby trod on his toes again. ‘Sorry. About what?’

‘Sapphie being sick. You taking over Seaborn’s. The company’s financial troubles.’

‘People should mind their own business.’

He twirled her towards the outskirts of the dance floor, giving them space, and her foreboding increased. ‘They’re also saying that’s the only reason you’d marry a thug like Jax Maroney, for a cash injection to save Seaborn’s.’

She stopped dead and shoved Otto away, not caring what the couples nearby thought. Until she realised alienating an old family friend at her wedding reception wouldn’t stop the rumours, it’d only fuel them.

Snagging his hand, she tugged him towards an empty nook behind a towering marble pillar.

‘What else are they saying? Tell me everything.’

Otto hesitated, before his sigh alerted her to incoming news she wouldn’t like.

‘They’re saying your husband has been trying to set up meetings with a few mining powerbrokers but they’re going to stonewall him at every turn.’ He touched her arm. ‘Just because you’ve married the guy, Ruby, don’t expect people to start liking him.’

He gestured towards the ballroom. ‘People haven’t forgotten his dad was responsible for ruining the lives of several prominent families here. They have long memories—’

‘Jax isn’t his dad,’ she hissed through gritted teeth, her anger rising exponentially with her indignation.

Didn’t these people believe in second chances? In giving anyone the benefit of the doubt? Jax had done nothing wrong, apart from being born Denver Maroney’s son, and he was being persecuted for it.

What if marrying her changed nothing for him? And what if he walked away from their deal, taking her chance at saving Seaborn’s with him?

‘I know, but you can’t expect them to have faith in a guy who rocks into town after being away a decade and expects to do high-end money business, not after what happened with old man Maroney.’

Rage blinded her for a moment and she blinked several times before replying. ‘Maybe not, but I expected them to have faith in
me
. In
my
judgement. I married Jax whether they like it or not and if they trust the Seaborn name, they’d better start trusting him too.’

Leaving Otto gaping, she whirled around and almost sprinted for the door. Where she caught sight of Jax hovering, an outsider at his own wedding.

Damn these people for their narrow-minded bigotry.

‘What’s wrong?’ He snagged her arm as she attempted to brush past, needing some air before she marched back into the ballroom and kicked some snobby butt.

She glanced into his face, expecting anger or concern. What she saw affected her far more. Stoicism.

He knew what she’d be facing, the judgements they’d both have to conquer, but rather than upsetting him, he accepted it.

She’d be damned if she would.

She slid her hand into his and tugged him back towards the ballroom. ‘I’ll tell you later. For now, we do what newlyweds do at their reception. We party.’

* * *

They cut the cake, made brief speeches, danced some more, before skipping the goodbye circle and making a fast exit.

Five hours after they’d first strolled into the Palladium ballroom, they left, hand in hand.

And Jax still hadn’t lost the glower.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the lifts. ‘We pulled it off. So tell me why you look like we failed?’

‘It’s nothing—’

‘Like hell.’

She stepped into his personal space, toe to toe. ‘Let me put it this way. If you don’t tell me right this very second, there won’t be much happening beyond sleeping in that decadent penthouse.’

The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘You certainly drive a hard bargain.’

‘Cut the small talk and spill.’

He sighed, his reluctance obvious in the rigid neck muscles, the clenched jaw, the shadowed glance.

‘I won’t judge you, I’m just here for you,’ she said, cupping his cheek, stroking the worry lines bracketing his mouth.

Then a wonderful thing happened. He visibly sagged, the tension draining as he opened and closed his mouth several times before clearing his throat.

‘We didn’t fool anyone.’

So the guy was perceptive as well as smart, gorgeous and the rest.

‘They only just learned we’re married. Give it time—’

‘This’ll never work.’

Her blood chilled at the finality in his tone, as if he’d given up before they’d even begun.

‘Never would’ve picked you for a quitter,’ she said, daring him to fight back, fervently wishing he wouldn’t walk away from all this.