The CEO's Contract Bride Read online

  “Oh, God. That was awful,” she whispered, her voice shook like the last dry autumn leaves clinging to a branch.

  “Yeah. It was.”

  Gwen pushed away from the toilet bowl and sank back on her heels. Declan grabbed a glass from the vanity, splashed cool tap water into it and handed it to her. Its velvet caress soothed as it slid down her tortured throat.

  “Thanks. I’ll be okay, now.” She stood up and handed him the glass.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I have to be, don’t I?” She stepped over to the basin and grabbed her toothbrush and paste. Her hands only trembled a little as she squeezed paste from the tube. Her heart hammered a little less frantically in her chest now. In the mirror she met Declan’s eyes. “What about you? That can’t have been easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But it can’t be undone. They expect to catch up with us at some time.”

  “We have to put them off. Wait until it’s over then let them know with a letter.”

  “Is that what you really want to do?”

  Gwen couldn’t meet his cold stare any longer. Was that what she wanted? If the truth be told she really didn’t know anymore. All she wanted was some guarantee that the pain would stop sometime soon. That the heartbreak would end. And that could only happen once he was out of her life for good. She lifted her eyes to meet his again. “Yes.”

  He didn’t answer but somehow something in his eyes died a little at her response. With no more than a nod he turned and left the room.

  Declan paced the floor of his room like a caged tiger. Each step on this crooked road brought new trials. It should have been easy—get married, stay married for six months, then get a divorce. But every minute of every day reminded him of the futility of loving someone who couldn’t love him back. In some ways losing Renata had been easier than this. At least it was final. Learning to cope with her loss, learning to live with the grief, that had grown into something manageable. But this? This was sheer torture.

  Declan ripped his tie from his neck and cast it across the room. Across the hall he heard Gwen’s bedroom door gently close. Just a few metres, that’s all it was, only a few steps and he could be across the hall and at her door, in her room—in her arms. It was as close as that, yet farther away than the dark side of the moon.

  During the next few weeks they barely saw one another. To Gwen’s relief, Declan was tied up in long, hard hours supervising the completion of the outstanding Cavaliere Developments contracts. Staggered over the next few months they’d free up his crews so that once the title to the Sellers building came through he’d be in a position to eventually bring everyone together to work on the ambitious project. The deadline to get the display apartment finished and ready to market was hellish, but Gwen knew he’d get there. If there was one thing Declan Knight excelled at it was getting what he wanted.

  While he worked flat out at the office and on various commissioned sites around New Zealand, Gwen laboured at home. She’d organised a contractor to complete installation of the shower in the bathroom while she finished the floor and walls. At his suggestion she’d also decided to convert the dressing room off the master bedroom into an en suite bathroom. That way there’d be even less chance of catching Declan in a state of undress.

  Deep inside her body tightened as she unwillingly remembered the last time she’d seen him so. How his eyes had glittered as he’d looked up at her, how his powerful body had trembled beneath her touch—hers to command. Their lovemaking had been incendiary the first time, eight years ago—driven by grief and the desperate need to seek solace by losing themselves in one another—but the second…She sighed. That had been different altogether.

  For the first time in years, Gwen had wanted to reach out to someone. To be a part of someone else on a scale she’d never dreamed could exist between herself and another person. The painful irony that it had been Declan wasn’t lost on her. It seemed as though if she was going to make a mistake, she was destined to make it with him.

  Gwen took a deep breath. She’d drawn on old reserves and shored up the walls around her heart—putting the past behind her again. To keep busy she worked hard, adding the finishing touches to the bathroom and putting toiletries and accessories back where they belonged. Her hand lingered on Declan’s robe as she hung it up on the hook behind the door. A hint of his cologne wafted past to torment her senses. She pulled her hand back as if burned. God, she was such a weak fool.

  Once everything was done she looked back upon the room. Sunlight refracted through the large stained-glass window set into the windowframe, sending jewel-like colours scattering over the polished wooden floor. The claw-footed bath had been professionally resurfaced and the new shower stall in the corner of the room looked as though it was meant to be there.

  It was bittersweet success to have finished the main bathroom. Satisfying because she’d completed it on her own, yet disappointing for exactly the same reason. She brushed furiously at the tears that hovered in her eyes, as they seemed to do so often lately. Stop being so overemotional, Gwen growled at her reflection in the rimu-framed bathroom mirror. It was ridiculous to be weepy over having exactly what she wanted. By the time this ridiculous farce of a marriage was over, her house would be complete and, best of all, completely hers. That was all that mattered now. That and completing the terms of her contract with Cavaliere Developments.

  Twelve

  Gwen stood up from the chair and stretched her back to work out the kinks. She’d been at it for hours but finally she’d completed her check of the inventory of furnishings stored in the Sellers Hotel’s gloomy basement. Sourcing other period furnishings to match would be a challenge, but where necessary she had a short list of craftsmen who could replicate many of the fixtures. A thrill of excitement surged through her. Her whole career she’d waited for an opportunity like this—a chance to showcase her talents and bring the beauty of yesteryear to functional life again.

  Her planning stages for the job were complete. Soon the physical work, the part she loved the most, could begin in earnest. Her own team of experts awaited her confirmation so they could swarm over the showcase apartment ready to work their magic. The hotel itself had harked back to a time when ceilings were high, rooms were spacious and suites were plentiful. Previous renovations to increase room numbers over the years had been done as cost effectively as possible, in most cases simply partitioning rooms. This meant the reconstruction had been minimal, and Declan’s crews worked in shifts around the clock to get the rebuild done. Before long the showcase apartment would be laid open to her ministrations. She couldn’t wait.

  Everything was on schedule. It should have delighted her to know that within two months she’d be a free woman. The bank had called this week to confirm the money Steve had stolen from her had been deposited back on her account this week. Her heart gave a little twist. That would mean that Declan’s money was back in his control, too. Would he still insist their marriage spin out for the full six months now that they had their money? With the board’s approval for the job he could raise any number of loans if he needed to. A shiver ran down her back.

  She flicked a glance at her watch. Damn, she was running late. In keeping with their façade she’d arranged a birthday celebration at home for Declan. If she didn’t hurry she wouldn’t have everything ready on time.

  The party was going well. They’d been extremely lucky with the weather, and despite the recent cold snap the day had dawned bright and clear. Guests spilled out through the French doors in the dining room and onto the deck. Conversations hummed all around, including many exclamations over Gwen’s successful work on the house. If she hadn’t been contracted to the Sellers job she’d probably have work coming out of her ears based on tonight alone.

  She tried to relax the knot of tension in her stomach. Nerves, she told herself. Just nerves. It was the first party she’d hosted as Declan’s wife and would, no doubt, be the last. It had to be perfect. Satisfied at last that everyone was wel
l catered to, Gwen picked up a glass of chilled chardonnay and drifted outside to join their guests in enjoying the final strains of evening light before the crispness of the autumn night air could force them indoors.

  Declan knew the minute Gwen came outside to join the crowd. He watched as she sank gracefully into one of the wicker chairs on the deck, the smile on her face as she greeted someone not quite reaching her eyes. Living together was hell on his senses, and he’d all but managed to convince himself that his feelings for her were under control, until he’d heard the news from his bank that the money Crenshaw had squirreled away overseas was now back where it belonged.

  They didn’t have to keep this up any longer. Life could revert to normal. He’d already pegged out the apartment he’d have for his own in the Sellers building. He could move back in with Mason until it was finished and get this over with even faster. The thought should’ve made him feel better, but it didn’t.

  He should’ve known better than to let his emotions take over. Emotions he’d controlled since the day his mother died and left him in charge of his younger brothers. Had he ever really let himself grieve for her? He couldn’t remember. For so long he’d been the one to take charge. To make sure everyone’s needs were met. It was easier to be busy than to think. Way easier. Now it was time to take charge again.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the guest he’d been talking with. “I need to see my wife.” He cut through the chatting throng of guests to catch up at Gwen’s side just as his father sat next to her.

  “So when are you two going to grace me with some grandchildren to spoil? Huh?” Tony Knight leaned forward to plant a kiss on each of Gwen’s pale cheeks.

  Pale? Yes, she was paler than normal. Declan made a mental note to talk to her about enlisting another contractor to help out here at the house. She pushed herself too hard. He’d known it for ages yet had done nothing about it. With her work at home and what she was already doing at the hotel she’d spread herself too thin—and it was his fault.

  “I…” At his father’s blustering comment Gwen seemed lost for words.

  It was time he interceded. “Hey, Dad. We’ve only been married four months and you want us to have kids?”

  Tony winked slowly at his son and gave him a gentle punch on the arm. “You enjoy your honeymoon, son. The hard work comes soon enough.” Then with a hearty laugh at his own joke he wandered off.

  “We’re going to get a lot of that,” Declan commented, watching his father looking more relaxed and happier than he’d seen him in years.

  “Only for as long as we’re married.” Gwen’s blunt reply left subtlety to the wind. It was obvious she couldn’t wait to get out of the arrangement.

  Declan looked at her assessingly. Up close the ravages of her hard work showed more plainly on her face. She looked tired and unhappy. The knowledge that he was responsible for all that twisted like a knife in his gut. He couldn’t stand it any longer. There was only one thing he could do.

  The honourable thing.

  Finding Connor in the crowd was easy. His baby brother stood head and shoulders above most people. He rose from his chair and made a beeline for him.

  “You okay, big bro’?” Connor passed him an icy-cold beer. “With a face like that you won’t need to blow out your candles, you can just scare them away.”

  “Lay off, Connor,” he growled in response.

  “Ouch, testy!” Connor took a sip of his drink. “So, what gives? If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re having trouble with your beautiful wife.”

  “What do you mean, if you didn’t know better?”

  “Cut me some slack, Dec. I drew up the agreement, remember? You guys have a deal.”

  Yeah, they had a deal. But they’d irrevocably broken one of the conditions, and his life had been in the sewer since. “Maybe it’s old age creeping up on me.” Declan smiled with a rueful twist to his lips.

  “Happens to the best of us, some sooner than others.” Connor grinned back.

  “While we’re on the subject, what would happen if we rescind the agreement?” Declan pitched the question with as casual an air as he could muster.

  Connor looked shocked. “Rescind it? You’d have to have a bloody good reason, Dec. The conditions of the trust fund are very specific. Whether you need it now or not, you don’t just throw that kind of money down the drain. We are talking several million here.”

  Declan fixed his gaze on Gwen’s face as she circulated among their guests. “Do it. Let it revert to Dad’s trust.”

  “You know you only get one shot at this under Mum’s terms. Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

  “Yeah.” Declan’s voice hardened. “Never more so.”

  The last of the guests had left by nine and Gwen looked forward to putting herself to bed. Declan’s voice halted her on her way to her room.

  “Gwen? Can you come into the sitting room for a moment? I need to talk to you.”

  A cold prickle of apprehension caressed her neck. The last time he’d needed to talk to her he’d thrown their lovemaking straight back in her face.

  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow, Declan? I’m very tired.”

  He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “I know. Please, this won’t take long.”

  Gwen followed him into the sitting room. As the evening had drawn in and their guests had filtered back indoors someone had lit the fire. The flames licked and danced their way merrily over the split logs, creating a soothing ambience. She avoided using this room as much as possible, the memories of when they’d first lit the fire too painful to dwell on.

  Declan stood by the mantel, a deeply serious expression throwing the planes of his face into stark relief. He gestured to her to sit down. As she did, Gwen felt her heartbeat pick up a few notches. He took a bunch of papers from the top of the mantelpiece and held them in his hand. Was it her imagination or did she see the typed sheets shake? No, there it was again. Unease crept icily through her veins, freezing her in her seat.

  “I thought it would be easy, you know?” Declan’s onyx gaze sought hers. She felt trapped but nothing could induce her to move. She knew to the soles of her feet she had to hear what he needed to say. “Being married to you, in name only. Hell, I kidded myself I could do it, no matter what had happened between us. No matter how much I despised both of us for what happened when Renata died.” A cynical twist pulled briefly at his lips. “I was wrong.”

  He turned and held the papers towards the fire.

  “What are you doing?” Gwen cried as a finger of flame caressed one corner before the paper turned black and began to burn.

  “I’m destroying our agreement. You’re free, Gwen.”

  “But you can’t do that! What about your trust fund?” Gwen shot to her feet.

  “The hell with the trust fund.” He dropped the fiercely burning sheets into the fireplace and pulled the antique screen in front.

  “Why?” She blinked furiously at the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. Rejected again? How many ways could he hurt her? She thought she was stronger than this. After all, wasn’t it what she wanted? All or nothing? Except he was giving her nothing and it cut into her like shards of a broken mirror. “Is it that now you’ve got your money back you don’t need the fund? You don’t need me?”

  “Don’t worry about your job. That’s still safe, if you want it. And if you don’t, I’ll still honour the salary I was paying you until you get set up again.”

  “I don’t care about the job, Declan. Why are you doing this?”

  Declan turned and put both hands on the mantelpiece and dropped his head between his shoulders. “I can’t do it anymore, Gwen. It’s tearing me apart. I know what it’s like living with losing someone you’ve loved. Trying to come to terms with it every day that you’ll never see them, never hold them again. It killed me inside and now I’m doing it to you, too. You have your freedom. I’m moving out tonight.”

  Freedom? Moving out? What the hell was he o
n about? “That doesn’t explain anything. Why are you pushing me away?” Her throat closed, thickened with emotion. Darn it, why couldn’t she control the unsteadiness in her voice?

  “I’m not pushing you, Gwen.” He turned and faced her again. “Don’t you understand, you’re free of me. Connor will start proceedings on Monday.”

  If he’d ripped out her heart he couldn’t have caused her more pain. With agonising clarity Gwen suddenly knew what she’d been fighting for years. She loved Declan Knight. She always had. Agreeing to marry someone like Steve had been denial of the truth, denial of the fact that she was worth more. Worth the love of a man who’d put her first before anything else, and she’d have to do everything in her power to make sure she held on to it—to him.

  “No, you can’t. We have a deal.”

  A log on the fire hissed loudly as sap bubbled from a crack in the wood.

  “I’ve already given Connor my instructions.”

  “Then tell him to stop.” Gwen bunched her hands into fists. Somehow she had to get through to Declan, to convince him to give her another chance.

  “C’mon, Gwen. You know you don’t want to be married to me. You’re still in love with Steve Crenshaw. It was his name you cried in your sleep after we made love.”

  She’d hurt more than his male pride with what she’d done, and the knowledge gave her one tiny ember of hope. In that short speech he’d told her everything. The ember flared into something larger, giving her the courage and the impetus to press forward.

  “That upset you?”

  “Damn right it upset me.”

  Good, he was starting to look angry. Anything was better than the noble martyred expression he’d worn before. Anger she could deal with. Anger was real. Anger could be defused.

  “Why?” she prodded.

  “Any man would be insulted if the woman he’d just had sex with called him by another man’s name.”

  “And you were insulted?”

  “Insulted? No. I was devastated.”