“Can I talk to you inside?”
“Excuse us,” Alex said to the still gaping workers, confidence and command radiating from every part of him.
He threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me inside. I didn't stop to consider what my workers would think about the little show Alex had just put on. I just needed to make Alex understand why this would not work. I would handle the workers later.
"Whatever you're cooking is burning," he said, untangling himself from me once in the kitchen.
I rushed to the stove, flustered than I would have liked to admit, and moved the pan off the heat. Bracing my hands on the counter, I dropped my head, searching for the right thing to say.
"I hope you don't mind, but I transferred the money to cover your bills. I didn't see any point in waiting any longer."
“Is that what the workers were so excited about?” I asked, still not facing him.
"I assumed so. Although I think they are more excited about the bonus you gave them for their hard work and loyalty."
I spun around then, only to find Alex closer than I had expected. He stood less than a foot away from me, leaning against the counter with his hip. His bare chest was more distracting than I remembered from the night before.
“What are you talking about? We never talked about any bonuses,” I said, folding my arms in agitation.
"I think you will find that any employee of Fredericksons is handsomely rewarded for their efforts. And your workers are well overdue for a raise. So, I took care of it.” He shrugged the words off like they didn’t mean an entire person’s livelihood had just been changed by his decisions.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I told him earnestly.
"You don't have to say anything. This is part of being my wife. My responsibility is to take care of you and all your ventures."
I turned to the stove, pretending to be preoccupied with the eggs, but his words captured my attention. He had mentioned last night that part of the deal would be that my farm would be taken care of, but I had not realized it would mean what is happening right now. I couldn't take this money away from my workers and their families now. I couldn't ask them to give me another week of arduous work and then eventually be out of a job. I couldn't back out of marrying him.
"They're watching us again," he said as he stepped behind me, his arms tucked around me again.
If I was not careful, this could be an embrace I could get used to.
“Breakfast is ready,” I told him, changing the subject, trying to act casually.
He chuckled, and with his cheek pressed against mine, I felt it rather than heard it.
"I thought that we could grab a quick bite in town. We have an appointment with the judge from the next town this afternoon. If we leave now, we will have time to get breakfast and a new dress for you."
“I don’t need a new dress, but the rest sounds great.”
“You don’t want something new to wear to our wedding?”
His question made my heart skip a beat. If this had been a real wedding, I would have wanted a big white gown and a fancy ceremony with hours of dancing to follow. Because this was a business deal framed as a marriage, I didn't see the point. I shrugged out of his grasp and went to my room.
“I am sure I have a dress that will work. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”
Alex growled, his hands tugging his hair out of place, sending a wave of heat through me.
“I am getting you a new dress, Agotia. You are to be my wife. You need to wear more than just anything to our wedding. These are the pictures that will be sent to the American media. They have to look believable, and no one would believe we got married in jeans and sweaters."
His pointed look at the cream-colored sweater I had pulled out told me that he was done arguing about this. I sighed, relenting. It was his money to spend anyways; who was I to stop him if this was what he wanted to do?
“Fine. A new dress. Is this suitable enough to wear into the shops?” I asked, an edge to my voice.
He only grinned before telling me that it was.
Thirty minutes later, with much huffing on my end, we were speeding through town in his luxury car. I slunk down further into the leather seats, hoping to avoid eye contact with any curious passersby. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being bought and that these people I had known my entire life would think the same thing. I was not the kind of woman who reveled in fancy cars and new dresses every week. I was the kind of woman who was covered in dirt from the farm more often than not. I felt sorely out of place here.
"You're hiding again," Alex commented as he took in my hunkered-down posture.
