“The
biggest issue, apart from our elopement and hasty marriage, is the money thing,
right?”
“That’s
the only issue.”
Emma
was startled. “That’s pathetic.”
“What
do you mean?”
Standing
up, Emma moved to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “Oh Mason. If my
daughter were getting married, I’d be concerned that she marry for the right
reasons. I’d want to know that they knew each other well enough to choose each
other, and that they knew what they were getting into with a marriage. But most
of all, I’d want to know that they loved each other. That’s all that matters -
everything else falls in line if love is there.”
“Well,
that’s fairly unrealistic in this day and age. But what’s your point?”
“If
she’s only worried about money, she’s forgetting the more important piece of
marriage - love and respect. She should be concerned that we love each other.”
“You
have a very romantic view of relationships, don’t you?”
“Well
of course. Haven’t you ever been in love, Mason?”
“You
have got to be kidding me.”
Emma
looked at him somberly. “I’m not kidding. Mason, you worry me.”
“I
worry YOU? I think it should be the other way around. What the hell have people
been feeding you to make you think that romantic love exists? In the end, it’s
all about what we can do for each other.”
“Sex,
money, and power? Aw geez. You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Very.”
She
sighed and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Then we’re about
the most mismatched couple in the galaxy.” Taking a deep breath, she continued.
“I don’t know, Mason. Maybe that’s all true in your world, but not in mine. My
parents married for love - there was no money or power dynamics at play in
their relationship. And no, I’m NOT speaking of my parents and sex in the same
sentence. My grandparents - same thing. And same for most of my friends. I’m
sorry you don’t see that in your circle of friends, Mason, I really am. And I’m
mostly sorry that your parents didn’t model that kind of a relationship for
you. But I believe in love, and that’s what I’m going to hold out for.”
Mason
pushed himself up to a standing position, looking down at Emma with disbelief.
“I hate to point this out, but you married for something quite different from
love.”
“Yeah.
I did. But that wouldn’t have been my first choice,” she answered quietly.
“I
think you’ll find that our relationship is every bit as successful as these
others, where couples married for ‘love’.”
“We’re
done in three years,” Emma pointed out. “Nobody else I know has a time limit on
their marriage.”
Mason
shrugged. “Maybe they should. Maybe serial monogamy is a better deal than
people think.”
Emma
knew that it was a losing battle to fight this with Mason. She would never
convince him that love existed, or that it formed a strong basis for marriage.
Unless he ever felt it himself, he’d never believe in it. How sad, she thought.
But it was an important truth for her to remember - he wasn’t interested in a
real relationship. And since she didn't have power or money to rival his, the
only thing that he would see her providing in any relationship they formed was
sex. So she needed to be very careful that they steered clear of each other.
Physically, yes, but on her part, emotionally as well.
Mason
was just looking at her, watching the emotions crossing her face and wondering
how she could possibly be as good of a lawyer as she was when she was so easy
to read. He saw the frustration, the sadness, the resignation that their
relationship would never be more than it was. And for just a moment, he felt a
twinge of sadness too. But just a twinge, and just for a moment. While the
thought of a short-term relationship with her had crossed his mind, even from
when he had first laid eyes on her, he realized that he might need to back way
off. He had no interest at all in emotional involvement, and this woman had ‘emotional
involvement’ written all over her.
“I’d
better get back to work,” she said at last. “What time should I be ready on
Saturday?”
“7:00
will be fine. It’s not far.”
Pushing
herself away from the desk, she walked around to her chair. “Anything else, Mason?”
she asked.
“No.”
“Don’t
worry about Saturday night. We’ll pull it off,” she said quietly.
“I’m
not worried, Emma. If anyone can disarm my mother, it’s you.”
Emma
watched him go, her eyes wary. She knew that she had thrown him with her talk
of love. But there was no way that she could or would let him think that she
would ever get involved with anyone if she didn’t love them. And that included
her hot, sexy, and oh-so emotionless husband.
Emma
dressed carefully for the occasion, slipping into a sleeveless, long sage green
dress that fit her figure beautifully. It was conservative in the front, cut
just under her neckline, but it dipped lower in the back and draped softly to
her feet. She had added a pair of taupe-colored sandals with heels, and was carrying
a matching evening bag. Her jewelry was simple – a thin gold chain with a
single pearl hanging from a pendant, and matching earrings. She was just
slipping her earrings in when there was a knock on her door. She opened it and
glanced up at Mason, who looked stunningly handsome in his tuxedo. His frame
filled out the jacket in a way that made her catch her breath.
“Wow.
You look wonderful,” she said softly. “There’s just something about a man in a
black tux...”
He
smiled politely. “Thank you. And you look beautiful.”
“Thanks.
I think that might be more of a compliment if you didn’t sound so surprised,”
she grinned.
“You’re
a lovely woman, Emma.”
The
serious tone of his voice surprised her, but when Emma looked up at Mason, his
expression was neutral.
“Thank
you, Mason. That’s nice of you to say.”
“I’ve
had the car sent around. We’re using a driver this evening since the parking
situation around the venue is less than ideal. Do you need more time?”
“No.
Chaos is crated, and I’m ready whenever you are.”
Mason
looked over at the crate where Chaos was looking balefully up at him. “He’s
rather manipulative, isn’t he?”
Emma
laughed. “OH yeah. He’s fine. He got treats and a walk and he just got in from
a romp in the yard. As soon as we leave, he’ll settle right in for a nap.”
“I’ll
meet you downstairs, then,” he said, with one last glance at the dog.
Emma
blew Chaos a kiss, then checked her reflection in the mirror. This was as good
as it got, she thought. Her makeup looked natural, her hair was tamed, and she
had run the lint roller over her dress. The only thing that she needed to deal
with before she headed downstairs was the overwhelming attraction she was
feeling for Mason. Because, God help her, the sight of that man in a tux was
breathtaking.
She
knew that she hid her emotions fairly well – not as well as Mason, but that
might be because he had no emotions, she thought. So she was pretty sure that
he didn’t know that he was affecting her this way, and she needed to be sure
that her attraction stayed hidden. Because the one thing she’d learned in the
past six weeks was that the man was ruthless. If he thought that he could have
a sexual relationship with her, and still maintain the agreement they had, he
would jump at the chance. Not because she was anything special, she reasoned,
but because she had demanded his celibacy. A bone-headed move on her part in
some ways, since she was quite sure that the man had a very active sex drive.
Which meant that she’d have to be doubly careful, since he may want to sleep with
her just to have a warm body next to him. Emma was under no illusions that
Mason could be interested in her. She was, quite simply, not his type.
So.
Tonight. She would go to the charity event. She would do her best to separate
herself from his side after 30 minutes or so, and she would not look over at
him. At all. Ever. Even if he was absolutely the hottest man in the room. She
would talk to the society matrons and charm the older gentlemen as best she
could. And she would refuse to be intimidated by his family. That was her plan.
Chaos
looked up at her skeptically. “I know,” she said firmly. “But if I have a plan,
it makes it easier for me to revert to that when the evening goes to hell. And
we’ll be walking tonight when I get home, so be prepared,” she warned.
Mason
was waiting for her in the foyer. To the man’s credit, he did not check his
watch as Emma descended the stairs, but instead just watched her as she walked
down, concentrating carefully on putting one foot in front of the other so she
didn’t trip.
“You’ll
be the loveliest woman there tonight, Emma,” Mason said as he offered her his
arm.
She
smiled up at him. “If you’re trying to brace me for meeting your mother, a
glass of wine would probably be better preparation. Or a few shots of tequila.”
“You
will want a clear mind when you spar with my mother,” Mason warned.
Emma
sighed loudly. “Maybe. Though sparring with her drunk might be more fun.”
Mason
laughed. “You’ll be fine.”
“Said
the spider to the fly…. No, I know I will be. I don’t really have anything to
lose with her, and I’m not going to pretend to be anything I’m not.”
“Including
madly in love with me.”
“Including
that.”
The
initial buzz around their entry died fairly quickly as Mason’s friends and
acquaintances came up to greet them and to be introduced to Emma. She was
growing used to the surprised looks on their faces when they met her, and just
smiled politely as many of them pointed out how different she was from Mason’s
usual women. She couldn’t figure out if it was a compliment or not.
After
some time, Emma decided that her plan needed action. She had been hanging
beside Mason for too long, and she needed some breathing room. He was a lot to
take in – an amazing combination of gorgeous male, entertaining conversation,
and good manners. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be thinking that she was
head-over-heels in love with the guy by the end of the evening. And given his
lack of a heart, predatory crocodilian nature, and overall businesslike
attitude toward their marriage, that would be a complete and total disaster.
So
she excused herself from Mason’s side, and headed directly to the ladies’ room
to buy herself her freedom. When she emerged, she plucked a glass of champagne
from a passing waiter’s tray, and sauntered over to one of the open windows
that looked out on the skyline of the city. It was a beautiful view, she
thought, just as she felt someone come up to stand beside her.
Emma
knew immediately who the tall, elegant woman next to her was. So this is where
Mason had gotten his noble features from, as well as his regal bearing. The
woman positively radiated aristocracy. But her expression was rigid, and Emma
could sense the displeasure emanating from her like heat from a brush fire.
Reminding herself that she didn't really need the woman to approve of her, and
that her loyalty in this situation was first to herself and then to Mason, she
turned to face the paragon of discontent that was Mrs. Parker.
‘So
you’re Mason’s latest.” The woman fired off her initial parry, managing to both
look down her nose at Emma and to give the appearance that she was ignoring her
completely.
“I’m
Emma Jameson, Mrs. Parker. It’s nice to meet you.” She would probably lose at
trading insults, she knew, but she could hold her own at well-mannered and
gracious. At the end of the day, she needed to be able to live with herself.
“Mason
tells me that he was fool enough to marry you,” the woman sniffed.
Emma
laughed to herself. Mason had warned her that his mother would be difficult,
but he may have understated the situation. Still, Emma felt like she’d been
thrust into a period movie - and that she was cast as the servant girl in the
presence of royalty. Ah well. She really wasn’t intimidated, and laughing
seemed preferable to crying or getting angry.
“Well,
if
he
put it that way, we’re already in trouble,” Emma smiled. “But yes,
we married about six weeks ago. I’ve been urging him to have you and your daughter
over one evening for dinner. I think I’ve almost worn him down.”
If
the woman lifted her nose any further, she would drown in a rainstorm, Emma
thought. “I do not need my son’s gold-digging wife to invite me to his home,”
the woman said with a loud harrumph.
“Of
course not,” Emma responded evenly. “Though having the invitation of your son
might come in handy,” she added.
“That
will come.”
“I’m
sure it will.” Emma took a sip of her champagne, and looked around the room,
hoping for some escape hatch to open up in front of her. Nothing seemed to be
forthcoming, so she sighed and prepared herself for another incoming volley.
She didn’t need to wait long.